Where do these things come from?!?

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Okay, these things are being killed; daily! constantly! without mercy! How is this a good idea, strategically speaking, unless there is one big ass marauder being held in the wings for the end-game?

Dang, I am greeted every morning by multiple kills, enemy depletion, bad karma! Before breakfast!

I kinda feel bad, but not as bad as I feel when I don't kill sat least one a day, or when my possessions gets compromised by little sharp, gnawing rodent teeth! I am a reluctant general in this war... Really, if they would just go away with their feces and Hanta virus and germs and nastiness, I would cease and desist.

But, I must soldier on! These are rodents we are talking about! Vermin! Scourge! Black death carriers and evidence of poor housekeeping! Even my chickens know enough to kill them when they appear!

I don't want to have a trap notched with a million kills! I don't want to think about little blind naked mouselings with non-returning parents dying of thirst and hunger!

They are forcing my hand, my cruel, survivalistic, them-against-me hand!

It sometimes sucks to be higher up the food/synaptic chain...

Indiscriminate rodent behavior

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In cleaning the storage area of the barn, I am continuing to unearth treasures from the past and the memories attached to them. In addition to the memories, I am getting a few surprises, too. There has been a lot of mouse damage, some of it heartbreaking.

I am trying to be pragmatic and a grown-up, but, it is not easy when I see holes chewed in a beloved old plaid shirt last worn by my father, dead these past thirty years. Or foul urine staining a tiny baby gown. Or a nest with grain, feces and shredded paper filling a decades old hat, the veil now in tatters. 'These are only things', I tell myself, and silently give thanks for the memories.

When I set off to do this job, I vowed to be ruthless in lightening the load that my family packs around and stores. The bins and tubs and boxes represent the changes in our family, the changes in the children's sizes and interests, and the changes in our living situation. We have gone from soccer practices and parties to snow boarding and mountain climbing. We have gone from having little folks around to having a family consisting of five six-footers. We have gone from a big house with formal dining area in an upscale neighborhood to a farm with free-range chickens.

I was prepared to deal with the off-loading that those changes necessitated. I am not prepared to being forced to throw stuff out based purely on the free operant behavior of rodents. I mean, they don't care where they poop or pee or nest or chew or drop a load of offspring. Yet, the end result of their behavior is my disappointment, at best, or heartbreak, at worst.

Cleaning out and clearing out is not for sissies. It is hot, dirty, nasty work. Work that falls to women most often, have you noticed that?