Ongoing War

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Just so you know, the war against the mice continues. Traps set daily, mice dead daily.

It's ugly. Little carcasses willy-nilly in my Jenn-aire downdraft cupboard (I will never have a Jenn-Aire again, these things suck! no pun intended). Mouse turds cast about like weed seed in the wind. Blood, death, dramatic poses of rigor mortis.

These little shits are relentless. But, I have noticed that the dead of this war are becoming smaller. Like coaches send in progressively smaller and less competent players as the first string is eliminated, Nature is sending in the B team. And I am annihilating their resources. Day by day, snap by frickin' snap. But they keep coming.

I have disinfected, washed, removed, sterilized, and otherwise dealt with the path of their infestation. I am losing my sense of humor. If ever I had one regarding mice in my home.

This is like a horror show for me, a nightmare come alive. Anyone who knows me gets that I don't do creepy infestation/germs/uncleanliness without major upheaval. I am in a crisis here, trying to keep shit in perspective. Because...big sigh and setting of shoulders here...I am a farm girl. But, for cryin' out loud, I am also a nurse. I love the smell of bleach and alcohol; isopropyl, not ethanol.

I will soldier on. Like Winston Churchill advised, I will never, never, never give up. As I have said before, farm life ain't for sissies.