It has been interesting moving to New York. What possessed me to think that moving across country again was an outstanding idea? "It'll be fun" falls somewhat short of the mark. We have had so many things happen since my last blog I'm not sure I have time to fit it in here, so here are the high points.
There are a lot of swimming pools in Plano, where it is hot and people love to see their money literally evaporate. This is why the water company charges so much--- to help people evaporate their money via their swimming pools. Rats like water, too. This is very inconvenient for people who like swimming pools but not rats. . . How, you may ask, do I know how much rats like water? My next door neighbor who, coincinentally, owns a swimming pool, was explaining this to me during a hair-raising story about the huge juvenile rat climbing her back screen door! Apparently Mr. Rat or one of his relatives decided it gets a bit cold in the winter and began searching for a nice place to wait out the cold. Like maybe my attic. Only the stinker tried to come in through the chimney and fell into the metal base of our gas fireplace.
The kids came unglued hearing the uncommonly loud, frantic scrabblings of the critter as he tried, unsuccessfully, for simply hours, to escape from his unexpected prison. Did I mention this, of course, happened on a Saturday afternoon? Once we realized the obnoxious guest wouldn't make it out on his own, I called the husband, safely ensconced in Boston, for advice. It went like this.
Me: "There is a bird in our chimney, the R-A-T kind." (This was for the benefit of our autistic son, who can cope with a bird in our chimney but would come unglued about the R-A-T. Thank goodness he wasn't listening, because even though he is in kindergarten, his spelling is e-x-c-e-l-l-e-n-t-.)
Husband: "Have you tried lighting the fireplace?"
Me: "How would you enjoy the sounds and smells of slow roasted rodent?"
Husband: "Don't light the fireplace."
Me: "You are, as always, absolutely right. I won't even think of lighting the fireplace."
Husband: "What happens if you just leave it there?"
Me: "Did you actually want to sell the house when we move? Or shall we rent it out to the Ripley's Believe it or Don't Museum as the house haunted by the most overpowering odor on record to date?"
Husband: "We have to get the sucker out of there."
Me: "Again, you are so right, my brilliant husband. I am open to suggestions as to how to get the sucker out of there before he drives our youngest into an insane asylum with sensory overload."
Husband: "We should call someone."
Me: "I did call someone. That someone is YOU."
This conversation is not noted for it's depth or problem solving venue. I eventually called every exterminator I could find until I located one who, providentially, would come at the drop of a hat because he, too, has a six-year-old son that, even without special needs, would go nuts with a rat in the chimney. Bless his heart!
The exterminators showed up at 8:30 on a Saturday night. Boy were we glad to see them! After dinking around with the chimney, poking through my attic, and thoroughly freaking out our most unwelcome guest, they confirmed that we had a really big BIRD in our chimney. Only he was in between the wall and the flue and we would have to take the fireplace apart inside to get him out.
Two hours later we reached the conclusion that the fireplace cannot be reliably dismantled from the inside. Time to call a bricklayer to take my chimney apart at midnight on a moonless night from outside the house to try to catch a really riled BIRD.
I, brilliant and desperate mother that I was, mentioned that we had just watched Ratatouille about 70 times (thanks again to my youngest) and that it was a shame we couldn't just drop a rope between the wall and the chimney flue and let the sucker climb out. The exterminators said they didn't have a rope. One of my personal passions is to always be prepared for everything, so I helpfully ran out to my car and returned with 30 feet of rope. We then went up to my attic, located a likely spot and appropriate weight, and lowered a rope between the wall and chimney (another 1/2 hour). They then set some traps, just in case my crazy lady idea worked.
As you can imagine, I didn't get to sleep very early. At 1:30 in the morning I swear I heard scrabbling and scrapings right over my head, and a trap snap. Unfortunately, the scrabblings continued. At 2:15, the second trap went off and the attic became surprisingly quiet. At which point, still unable to sleep, I ventured bravely forth, up the rickety ladder, back into the attic with a flashlight and baseball bat.
The biggest rat I ever saw was dead in one of the traps. Eighteen inches from nose to tail. I went back downstairs and fell asleep right away. When I called the exterminators the next morning, they were gratified and surprised that the whole whacked-out stunt had worked. Not as grateful as I was! The nice exterminators gave me all the credit for the idea, but they sure worked their bottoms off to execute the plan. . .and the villain.
Now I live in a neighborhood with almost no swimming pools. A cute herd of deer ran in front of our car last night. And the coyotes were barking at 1:00 a.m. I just saw a red-tailed hawk with a very large rodentish animal yesterday. I don't think these predators will let a rat near the house. One can only hope.
This move has made me realize a couple of important things. Here is the short list.
1. There is never enough time to get rid of all your junk. My advice is to get rid of some every day, don't wait until you have to. Hindsight is 20/20. On the bright side, I actually have a basement in New York. A really full basement.
2. Goals are great. Don't post them on the wall, though, because it is really depressing to see how short of the mark you really are every day. Especially if you are an incurable optimist whose vision is 20/20 only in hindsight.
3. A good truck driver will show you which of your items is really breakable. A bad one will prove it to you!
4. Don't be too attached to your stuff. Yes, you can take it with you. But if you get the driver we got, it will probably be in lots of tiny pieces. Or big pieces.
Well, duty calls. In low, medium, and high voices.
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