"I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value." - Hermann Hesse
The mice are still a problem. No solutions (that I have the stomach for) are working--the mice don't enter the catch-and-release traps and they aren't touching the poison, either, no matter what goodies I mix in with it. And even though I've long since mouse-proofed every item of food in the kitchen (for all intents and purposes, you may imagine it locked into safes suspended from the ceiling), they still insist on holding squeaky family reunions behind the fridge and using the countertops as one long, joyous chamberpot. I don't know why they're still here. I suspect it's just for the pleasure of witnessing my descent into madness at their capable paws. My hands permanently smell of bleach these days, as does every surface I think they may have touched. I wield my cleaning products like heavy artillery and have a box of matches the size of a bread bin that I'm fully prepared to use to set the kitchen on fire. They appear oblivious to the wild glint in my eye, the desperate hoovering, and the frantic disinfecting, as they cavalierly chatter on, throw parties, and wreak general havoc. But I refuse to give in, to give them the satisfaction of pushing me over the edge. I'm now pulling out the big guns in this war: professional pest control, my own personal mercenaries. At the very least, I'd be thrilled if these experts can plug up all the openings that are allowing the mice in, although I do hope they have some success in mouse-extraction, as well.
I hope they come with a terrifying cat.
In other news, last weekend in Pretty Little Seaside Hastings was chock full of one of my favorite things: Old People Looking in Windows.
I love the way they just get right IN there. Like a shop front is actually an exhibit that calls for full attention and study and conversation. (And really, isn't it?) I can't remember the last time I stopped at a window front and had a nice, long perusal of the wares on display. And yet there's an entire generation that goes nose-against-the-glass, examining the contents. I love it.
I actually went into this shop and got a tea plate and a handful of rusty forks, just because I could. All for a pound! Oh, man. It was great.
Okay, so this one wasn't * technically * taken in Hastings last weekend, but I can't resist putting it up because it totally fits.
Now back to my spring break research...if you have any tips about what Aya and I should do/see in Paris, Luxembourg, or Brussels, please let me know! We're totally winging it here. And anything awesome you recommend I promise to photo to death and then post on here, giving you all the blame. I mean, thanks.
Big hugs and love,