rodentia

It is no longer early. I was hoping to get some time alone, some quiet, all-to-myself time in this new life in a house of company and children and Kill Bill II, but the computer wouldn't come on. I won't go into detail about my sweetie's role in this tragedy, but trust me, its all his fault. By the time I got it to come up, an hour had passed and I had lost the thread, the inspiration, call it what you will, the fucking muse was pouting and giving up exactly nothing in the way of creative thought. Well fuck her. I'm writing anyway. I never believed in muses. She's the goddamned tooth fairy. Who needs her and her caprice anyway? I'm the writer, goddamn it. And I'll take ten minutes of your precious time to prove it. You can leave your quarters under my pillow.

Come back little Sheba.

I think the Hood to Coast Relay starts today. Run Asia and Annette, Run!!! Subsequent depression be damned. It evades me though -- the notion of depression settling in because you eventually must stop running. The thought of running, unless avidly pursued by someone more dangerous than my stepdaughters.... now that is depressing. But seriously, you go girls! I make light of what I cannot/will not/do not do.

We got a couple of new toys: a miniature cross bow and mouse glue pads. I hope their uses are never combined into some hideous anti-rodent sport hunting. If you've never seen mouse glue pads, they are unique and effective. A little mean-spirited, and those of you with a penchant for tenderness needn't read on, but they work where the usual trap does not. We've been through all manner of poison and humane traps, but the glue thing quite literally stops them in their tracks. I don't like the whining, peeping death part. I don't. But I also just threw away about five bucks worth of shelled walnuts and sliced almonds. Does that justify death? Well, I think it does. In the balance of geologic time, what's a few mice between friends? I don't think I'm making a dent in the mouse population or threatening the future of rodents as a species. I'm just cleaning up my corner, preserving the illusion of human superiority. They were probably here before me and will be here long after I'm gone. Like fleas on a dog, the earth will shake us off and only the rodents and cockroaches will remain, but damnit, I'm taking a few of the little bastards with me on my way out, and using the crossbow seems excessive at this point.

Ah. I've missed my blog.

I read The Case Against George W. Bush by Ron Reagan (Esquire), by visiting the ashabot. It was an erudite indictment, and I loved the distinction between liberals and rationalists. Any thinking person must, by now, acknowlege the fundamental dishonesty of the current administration. President Clinton, speaking on The Daily Show, said something like, "When people think, Democrats win." And I know liberals are not the only thinking people. I don't know that I'm a liberal, but I will align myself with rationalists. I think, therefore I'm pissed.

I was sitting on my porch yesterday and one of the tightrope walking squirrels joined me. Seems she has a nest in the camelia tree. She scurried through the rain with nuts and berries to store for the coming winter. Now, those of you who are actually paying attention to this rant will ask the obvious question: Did I use a squirrel glue pad to stop her? Did I break out the cross bow and pin her to the porch? I did not. But then, she wasn't so rude as to come in the house and steal nuts out of my basket. She settled for what was outside, on the ground. And she has a fuzzy tail.

I know I should use glass jars. I know. This is an old house.