I apologize to all those coming to my house on Saturday night, you may or may not have a cold drink and you may see a mouse. You see my fridge is playing night of the living dead and our upstairs neighbour has seen a mouse.
The only time we have seen a mouse or had any inkling that there might be something like a mouse in our house was when we had company over. Thanksgiving dinner and the mouse who we had not seen any signs of, well except our cats doing a weird stalking of the built-in dishwasher, runs out and our friend Carla shouts “Mouse!” Anthony and Tomer went out right away to get some mouse traps and we have not seen any since. Our upstairs neighbour emailed us a day later saying she had caught the mouse. I, being cautious by nature, and well let’s face it a little wigged out, kept the traps out and they are still out.
The only upside I can see right now with regards to Monsieur Mouse, is that Dianthe is not stalking anything in the kitchen. Of course I have not really looked at the traps either to see if the levers are up. I am praying to any and all deities at the moment that this particular mouse keeps to his apartments upstairs. That really isn’t so much to ask, is it?
The Zombie fridge is another story. I told my landlord a few weeks ago that our fridge was about to die. When the 25 year old fridge (well I think so anyway) starts making sounds like a turbo prop airplane, chances are that it is about to die. He sent a polite note to let me know when it died. It died today, several times in fact. I have cleared out the freezer of the slowly melting food and put it in the chest freezer we have downstairs. I have put all the truly perishable fridge items in a Rubbermaid tote on our balcony. Now we just wait until Tuesday somewhere between 12:00 pm and 5:00 pm for them to deliver the fridge and take the other one away.
As Social Distortion would say I’ve got Bad, Bad Luck. It has got to stop sometime . . . right?