Wednesday, December 21, 2011

A Tale of Two Country Mice

This morning I got up at 6:15 and knowing I had a lot to do, decided to get started on my day.  I made my coffee and a bowl of oatmeal and sat down at the dining room table to get some work done.  I was hitting send on an email when I saw a mouse dart next to me along the baseboards and go into a corner behind some bags.  I thought "Great, there are mice in the house (again*.)"  So I go into the kitchen to see if I can see the mouse in the corner or if there's a hole in the baseboards that it went into.  The reason I do this is because I have some poison I could stick in the hole then some stuff to seal the hole.

Now that I am relocated to the kitchen looking into the dining room, I see nothing.  Of course.  And that's when #2 darts out from under the stove and heads toward the refrigerator.  Right. Next. To. My. Foot.  I screamed.  And ran to the living room and called my dad.  He's the only person I knew who would be awake around 7 in the morning so it seemed logical.  And he laughed at me.  I knew he would, but I still needed to talk to someone for I feared I was nearing heart-attack status.  I mean a mouse just ran Right. Next. To. My. Foot. And I was wearing houseshoes.  Like those are going to protect my toes.

So while I'm standing in the big living room talking to my dad mouse #2 runs AT ME.  I am not even kidding.  So I screamed.  And I said "It's running around, it's running around."  My dad (ever the intelligent one) says "Are you talking to me?"  "YES!  Who the heck else would I be talking to?"  Um, for those of you who are confused, I don't make it a habit of talking to mice who are running at me.  So the mice turns and runs into the computer desk (which was slightly funny) and then runs onto the hearth where I quit following it.

At this point, I wrap up the conversation with my dad and go take a shower.  Because if there's one thing I know, if have a heart attack and die due to these mice, I don't want to smell when Britt** gets here for the body.

* For those of you who don't know me in real life, we had a mouse infestation in the garage and house at my grandparents this fall and dealt with it for the better part of a week trying to get cracks and holes sealed and replacing seals along doors.  We thought it was under control.  It is not.

** The people who own the funeral home are friends of the family so yes, we are on a first name basis with them.

P.S. It's over an hour later and my blood pressure is still elevated.  I know this because I normally have low to normal blood pressure and at this moment I can FEEL it pumping through my veins.  I've earned a second dose of caffeine today because I know once I calm down I'm going to be exhausted.

Monday, December 05, 2011

Lots of Love

A couple of years ago my niece grew her hair out and donated it to "Lots" of Love.  That was how she understood us saying Locks of Love.  Those who know me IRL also know that I have been growing my hair out.  What started of as more of something that was a burden (finding someone who can cut my hair the way I like it is hard, especially with the natural wave it enjoys) turned into me also growing my hair out.  My philosphy on this was "Why not?"  I mean let's think about this.  I'm in my early 30s, I am physically well, and I can grow my hair out.  Some child out there is young, not physically well, and has no hair.  Why wouldn't I became the bigger question.  So I grew it.  And grew it.  And grew it some more.  My hair is really think, yet appears thin.  So it was a lot of hair on my head.  And I am not a girly girl, so out came the hot rollers if I needed it to have any body or style.  And for the first time in my life I had long hair.  Wowsers, what a difference long hair is.  Flashback a couple of weeks ago and I decided to go in for a trim.  Just for kicks and giggles I had the lady measure my hair.  When she said it was long enough to donate and I wouldn't be bald as a result, I finally decided it was ok.  And this is what I'll be sending in to "Lots" of Love to help someone who otherwise would not have hair.

Note: If I pull out the curl, it measures over 12 inches.  Wowsers!

Also, there is no after picture.  If you know me IRL you know I don't do well with having my picture made.  So you'll just have to wait until I'm felling "worldly pretty" and then I'll see what I can do.