Mice!

It came as no surprise that I have mice living in my attic.  The nice exterminator guy looked in the attic, around the outside of the house, and in the basement.  He found signs of mice in the attic, lots of places they can get in around the house, and no sign in the basement.  He's coming back tomorrow to set traps, silicone caulk the gaps, and install a roof vent screen to keep the little critters out.  He'll come back in one week, reset the traps, and come back in another week.  It's not cheap but it isn't highway robbery either.  He said that I could set traps but I said that I'm not getting up in the attic or on the roof.  I'll pay for that service.

The Downy Woodpecker came to the suet this morning and one of the Red-bellied Nuthatches lit on the perch next to it for just a second.  I thought I captured it but by the time I pressed the shutter it was gone.  Dang it.

The Goldfinches are in their winter drabness.  Come spring these little guys will shed those avocado feathers for bright yellow ones.  I want to know what makes them change.  Is it the light?  The temperature?  Is there a memo?

We had another Bay Lakes Knitting Guild social knit tonight and a whole bunch of people
came.  Hooray!  We had a lovely couple hours catching up on what people have been doing since we stopped having in-person meetings in March.  It was great.  I hope more people come next week again.  The time was just perfect for me to finish Stuck-at-Home Warshrag #6.  Now I have to find something else to knit.  Maybe another preemie hat.

28 October--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

Chapter 5

The next morning when I got to the Seaview, Silas was already there and he was not alone.  He introduced me to his cousin Edward and two other friends, Shaggy and Bo, who were all awaiting promised jobs that were slow in appearing at the Shearwater Resort over on St. Martin.

The boys had finished tearing out everything that Silas and I had agreed needed to go on the first floor and had moved upstairs.  They had rigged a slide out one of the bedroom windows so they could safely throw things onto a pile in the back garden.

When I asked Silas why they hadn’t made the slide end in the dumpster he shook his head at my foolishness.  “You need to go through it all, pull out the boards that can be saved…”  He smiled at the look on my face.  “Yes, Mrs. Rose…”

We said the next words together, “more nail pulling.”  He went on.  “Once we get a couple of these rooms cleared out I will send Shaggy and Bo out to help sort.  You, I will not deprive of the honor of pulling all the nails now that you have gotten so good at it.”  He turned back to the sweaty work of prying off the crumbling plaster and lath that had spent the better part of the last decade growing a bumper crop of mold.

I was glad that he and his helpers were the ones up there in those small rooms breathing in all that dust.  I had bought some masks from the hardware store on the island for them to use but they didn’t seem to think real men used masks.  Maybe I would speak to Johnno or, even better, Silas’ Auntie Anne. She might be able to talk some sense into them with regard to their lungs’ health.  I didn’t want to be an old woman about it but I would hate to hear some day that one of them got lung cancer because of renovating the Seaview.

After a lunch of patties, spicy meat pies like the Cornish pasties that are so popular in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan near my hometown in Wisconsin, two of the boys, Bo and Shaggy, came out and sorted the pile, then helped pull nails.  They agreed that sitting on a stool in the shade wielding a claw hammer was much more comfortable than tearing down walls inside.

The sun was starting to set when Silas and Edward came out and flopped down on the ground.  “We are done,” Silas said.  “Every room has been cleared out and all the bad wood removed.  Some of the walls had not gotten wet lately but I tore out all the plaster because I could see mold when I pried up the trim.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.  “I think I have enough plywood and wallboard in the container to replace it all if we’re careful.  I need to find a man who is a good electrician and another who is a plumber.  I want them to come and go through the Seaview now that it is cleared out and make a plan for rewiring and replumbing the place.”

Four shocked male voices filled the air.  “Why do you want to hire someone besides us?  We can do that work.”

I took a deep breath.  “Are any of you licensed?”  Four heads shook in the negative.  Whew.  “Well, I don’t want to take the chance that one of you might get electrocuted working for me.  A journeyman electrician will have more experience and I won’t be afraid that someone will fry themselves; and I don’t want to turn the Seaview into an indoor fountain from poorly installed pipes either.  I’m happy to give you jobs doing things you’re qualified for but I couldn’t live with myself if any of you got hurt.  Someone I don’t know, that’s a different story.”

They laughed at that last statement.

“Besides don’t you want to be on display so that all those pretty girls who walk by here giggling when they see you can keep seeing you?”  That idea brought some agreement and murmurs of assent.  “I need someone to make this back garden look beautiful, someone to build me some furniture, benches and tables for out here, maybe an arbor.”  I could see the wheels turning in the four heads, imagining themselves the center of a knot of admiring young women.  I stood up, brushed off my legs and bottom.  “I’ll see you all tomorrow.  We can get started planning the garden and maybe use some of this wood we have reclaimed to build it.  I’ll do some internet research tonight and bring some ideas.  You come with ideas too, okay?”

They each assured me that they would spend the night studying my challenge and be here bright and early tomorrow.  It had been another good day, but walking back to Sydans and my solitary supper I really missed Jim.  I thought about the argument Will and I had on my last night at home.

Today's toss was an old Who's Who Among High School Students that we got sucked into buying in 1992 or so when DS made the honor roll the first time.  We got wise and didn't buy any more even though he kept making great grades.   DD did too.  Such great kids who turned into wonderful adults.

I went down to Zambaldi today to see DS and watch him brew some beer.  He was making a special kind with a higher alcohol content and dumped in a bucket full of chipotle pepper flakes.  He swears it won't make the beer too hot and spicy.  I'm reserving judgement.

--Barbara