qui courait dans l'herbe...
This French children's song has been my personal soundtrack for the past few days. Sunday evening, I was lying on the canapé watching a movie ("Love Actually" because it's the only Christmas-y movie in the house) when I felt something flutter against my leg. At first, I thought it was just a twitch. Then I felt it again, further up. So I jumped up and moved to the chair and watched. And then I saw something move. It was a mouse, and it was in my blanket. My only consolation is that the blanket was beside me, not over me. I threw a stick of poison in there (which I got from the mayor when I told him there were animals in my walls), and abandoned the movie. I considered throwing open the window, grabbing the blanket and throwing it out, but I just knew that the mouse would escape before I reached the window. How I miss my cats.
I sent Virginie a text and asked if I could borrow Vito the cat (only half joking), and then Laurence and asked if Jules could come tomorrow and put some poison in the attic (I later learned that the square in my ceiling is a faux plafond and not really attic access. Rats! Or should I say mice?). Of course I heard something scrambling above my head as I was texting. Sleep was pretty hard to find that night. And then I realized that the strange dark spots on the floor in the bathroom and kitchen are quite possibly evidence of mice. I haven't seen any tell-tale droppings, but - how can I say this delicately? I think the mice might have the runs.
Monday during our break, Laurence, Mélanie and I went to the store and then to my house to scatter poison pellets in all of the corners. I've also put some in the storage room next door, as well as the junk-ridden former animal stalls. It's now the end of Day 3 of the mouse invasion, I am really impatient for the rat poison to work, so I bought some tapettes today. Great brand name - Lucifer !
While eating my delicious homemade curried zucchini soup this evening, I heard a snap. Immediately, I broke out in a sweat, knowing what I would find when I got up. It was in the bathroom, by the radiator pipes - just as I had suspected. Guess French mice really like peanut butter. Now I need to find some steel wool to plug up the holes. I did manage to save the trap, since I'm apparently going to need quite a few. Nothing like a poor exchange rate to help me get over my aversion to dead mice.
No comments:
Post a Comment