Posted tagged ‘mouse rides’

“We are always the same age inside.”

January 29, 2013

Today I face the world or both Gracie and I go hungry. A sunny day would have been a nice welcome, but we still have all those clouds and a dampness left over from the little snow we had last night before it started to rain. Slush covers the side roads, and you can see all the tire marks. A mouse woke me up. It wasn’t happy with its accommodation in the have-a-heart trap and was banging and whacking the metal. I fell back to sleep a couple of times, but finally I couldn’t take it any longer. We went for a ride around 7:30: Gracie, the mouse and I. Despite all its complaining, the mouse didn’t want out. It kept moving from side to side in the trap before I finally shook it loose. I wished it well in its new home then I went and got coffee and a bagel. That seemed a perfect reward for an early morning mouse run.

My voice is raspy, and I still sniff and cough, but I feel better. That’s a good thing.

This morning I noticed the obituary of one of my high school classmates, a good guy, a funny guy. I don’t know what happened, but his dying gave me pause. My mind doesn’t ever think of me as old. I am perpetually young. Going up and downstairs is usually a reminder that my parts have aged, but the reminder doesn’t stick. I look in the mirror and see grey hairs, but they don’t mean anything to me. My friends are all around my age, but they still seem young to me. I can’t fathom they are in the their mid to late 60’s. What in the heck does that really mean? I thought my parents were old when they were in their 60’s. My dad passed away in his 60’s. I bet, though, they thought themselves still young just as I do now.

I finally understand that age is relative. I used to think that was what old people said to make themselves feel better, but it’s not. Age isn’t measured in years. It’s measured in the way you live your life. I have a long way to go until I’m old.

“Isn’t ‘not to be bored’ one of the principal goals of life?”

January 28, 2013

Today I got dressed. I don’t really feel any better, but I wanted a change. This whole thing, this cough and cold, is getting ridiculous. I should be well by now kicking my heels in the air and whistling a happy tune, but, instead, I’m expecting the board of health to come by and tack up a notice that this house is quarantined.

Another mouse got a late night ride last night around 10:30. I checked the mileage, and we went 1.5 miles. His homing instinct is only good for a mile so I’m expecting he’ll set up housekeeping in the new neighborhood. No mouse in the trap this morning-the first time in a while, but when I checked it, the mouse had eaten the peanut butter. I didn’t set the trap right last night. The mouse count, though, is slowing down. We’ve made inroads. I’m still hoping the Pied Piper will drop by. I promise to pay him, unlike his last clients.

I started another novel, David Baldacci’s The Forgotten. I finished the Patterson yesterday, Private London, in quick time, probably about the same amount of time it took him to write it. There is a second author, Mark Pearson, and I figure Patterson throws out the plot to the guy who then writes the novel. The book wasn’t very good. The main character was a cliché: the tough guy with all the right words and really great aim who inevitably saves the day.

Of late, I have been easily bored, not something to which I am well-acquainted, but staying in the house limits what I see and do. I check out daytime TV, find nothing and turn it right off. I read for a while then I get tired of reading. I could dust but I don’t even like to dust when I feel good. My sister sent me a red chili wreath for Christmas and some of the peppers fell off in transit. I’m thinking of firing up my glue gun and reattaching those peppers. I think I’m really hard-pressed for some way to pass the time.

Today isn’t the day, but tomorrow I’ll have to go out to fill the larder and get dog food. I’m already excited at the prospect of being out in the world.

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