Archive for December, 2009

The Older Brother, BIL, and myself all went sledding yesterday in the mountains near here.  Oodles of fun, I tell you.  We sledded down awesome slopes and then we packed up and started back to town.

Just on the edge of town is a intensely popular hillside for sledding and it looked like so much fun (even though it was PACKED with people) that we stopped for just a few last good runs.

We only had two sleds, so after I went a few times, I perched myself on the BIL’s truck to watch the guys take the steep slope “just to see what it was like”.  As I watched, these other teens took it first, two of them flew down so fast that it made my head spin.  The third guy took the slope so much faster and his sled appeared to barely touch the ground for the first 200-300 yards.  As he got closer, he didn’t slow down very much at all, but whizzed straight towards the street.

Just then a wee boy, most likely about seven years of age, slid right into the teen’s path.  The boy’s mother ran over and began to drag him out of the way when…


The teen collided with her and her son, knocking them both to the ground.  At first I thought that she knew the teen because she ran over to him first and began yelling at him and looked like she was going to start slugging him.  But I thought maybe she was halfway joking because his face looked like it might be a joke, it was completely incredulous and his entire body was saying “please don’t slug me, haha”.

Then I began to figure out what she was saying: “F*** YOU!!!  F*** YOU!!  YOU COULD HAVE STEERED OR STOPPED!!  F*** YOU!!”  Over and over.  I quickly realized that they did not know each other, as the teen rolled over, jumped up, grabbed his sled and beat it.

I stared and blinked a few times as she then ran over to her son and held him as he cried.  She then began helping him to the street and towards where I guessed their car was parked.  I then noticed that the poor kid was limping, I started to hop out of the truck to go see if I could help when a man that I had noticed before (don’t think that, I noticed him because he looked and talked like Ed Harris and I thought it was funny) ran up, spoke to the woman for a moment and then picked up the little boy and carried him to their van.

I thought for a while that Ed Harris was the boy’s father, but after he helped the boy to the van, he shook hands with the woman and then walked back to the hill to finish sledding with his own boy.  Apparently, he didn’t know her at all but saw that she needed assistance and put his shoulder to the wheel without any hesitation.

What a man, Ed Harris, what a man.

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I am an admittedly sound sleeper once I finally get around to crawling into my bed and so it was all the more startling when I was jerked awake last night by a loud noise near my bed.

I sat up and tried to place the noise in my mind.  My door was shut in order to keep the old dog from padding noisily in and breathing heavily over my body – so slamming door was out.  No one could have entered the room, the noise wasn’t right.

Suddenly, I placed it.  The noise was that of a trap snapping shut.

I should here inform you that my sister’s house is plagued by the occasional mouse, much in the way that houses in my homeland are plagued by the occasional roach or ant.  Either way it’s nasty.

So yes, the sound was identified (much to my horror) as a mouse getting his (or her) neck snapped.  Lovely.

I lay awake staring into the darkness in the general direction of the ceiling trying to decide if I needed to switch the light on.  I debated with myself for about two minutes and then the thought crossed my mind… what if there were more?  What if mice didn’t just travel in ones, but in twos, threes, fours, and fives?!  Oh the horror!  I sat up, switched the light on and carefully examined the room from my bed.

Body in trap by closet.  Check.

Empty traps in various other places.  Check.

No sign of other mice.  Check.

I sighed, turned the light off, and lay down to try to sleep.  This was not easy for me because I am one of those people that once I have thought of something like mice invading my room the thought does not leave me and my mind starts creating phantom sounds and shadows to accompany the thought.

I kept jerking awake the rest of the night, about once every hour to lie in bed and listen for sounds, half of the time I convinced myself that it was nothing and the other half of the time, I had to sit up, switch on the light and search the room (with my eyes) for any other little mouse bodies besides the one near the closet.

The next morning, I informed my sister of what had happened, she offered to dispose of the mouse for me, but we both forgot until after she left.  Not wanting my room to start smelling like a rotten meat factory, I myself donned a pair of rubber gloves and carefully carted the mouse outside where I dumped it on the other side of the fence.  All without touching the actual carcass of said mouse.  I did feel a bit sorry for the little guy, I mean, having your neck snapped by a merciless little wire can’t be the most pleasant way to go.

Then again, how pleasant can we make killing mice?

Once the body was gone, I once again set the trap in the same spot.  As much as I abhor dead mice in my room, live mice are much much worse.

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