How I beat the Heebie Jeebies

I've been creeped out since my Scott left to go back to NY last Wednesday morning. I'm out here in, what to me feels like the middle of nowhere and it gets dark. I mean, dark. I'm thankful that this property has a security light that comes on at night and stays on. It helps me to see in the bedroom. You know, 'cause I like a night light.

So, it gets super dark and I'm not in a town. I'm outside a town. I have a few neighbors, but they are a distance away. Its far like this - I wonder if I screamed, would Darren hear me? I've done this before when Scott & I house sat out here. I was alone at night because he worked a third shift. We stayed in the finished basement, which was fine by me. I could hide down there. I learned to sleep with the TV on and the lights on. I tried real hard not to go upstairs because I didn't want anyone too see me through the windows. And I literally had an escape plan. If the killers came down the stairs, I'd hide behind the fireplace (you could walk all the way around it) and then hit the stairs after they went into our room. Plus, I slept with a blow torch and a knife. I shit you not.

A few days after we left that house, it was broken into. They stole the desk that was next to our bed. Scott and his friend tried assuring me that they knew we'd moved out (there was still stuff in the house which the family was getting ready to auction), but I was still beside myself.

Now, I'm out here again and I'm alone. Well, I've got the kids, but at night that's the same as being alone. Bonus of it being 2011 instead of 1997 is I have a cell phone so I can call 911 or Darren from my hiding place if I have to. But anyway, this is supposed to be all about how I stopped being scared.

I was making sure that all the blinds were closed at night because with little light, I can't see out the windows and I didn't want any people wandering the farm fields to see me. I ended up pinning a blanket to the front door because its a lot of glass and the porch light doesn't work. That freaked me out the most. The blanket really helped me loosen up. I'm not running around naked, but I'm better.

And then I had a thought last night - 'What's more likely? Getting killed living where there are few people or in the City That Never Sleeps? Or even on Strong Island?'

That's when I realized how silly I was being.

How can I feel safe as a bug in a rug walking through a NYC subway station at 1 am, or let's say walking the street alone on 10th Avenue at night, or the Lower East Side, or Harlem, or wherever and be scared on a farm? I'm laughing at myself as I write this because even now I still think its less scary to be in any of those other places than here. I think it comes down to it being more familiar to me in a city setting. But knowing that technically its more dangerous in a city than in the country helped me chill out a bit.

However, I'm not in the clear. I just got a text from my brother (we text each other movie quotes) and as I stood up to answer it, I wondered if it was a killer texting me. I really need to make those wards to protect this house. I think I'll get on that tomorrow night!

I'm getting better, but I've just realized I ain't there yet. I think I'll keep the knife on the bedroom window sill tonight. Too bad I lack a blow torch.

The War on Fivel

 

I, 'City Mouse' am now at war with my country cousins. I found mouse sh*t on my counters this morning. 

It completely threw off the timing of all my plans. I had everything mapped out strategically last night before bed. Wake up, fed crazies, color hair, put stuff in the drier, get everyone dressed, head to Indy. Once in Indy, pick up the vacuum I scored on Craig's List (left mine in NY), go to Target for a trash can, Trader Joe's for goodies, and Staples for a router and paper. But noooo... I have to find Fivel's trail on my counters!!!

So ensued a crazed cleaning spree while feeling completely grossed out. And then I had to laugh at myself because not two months ago I considered getting Aidan and Ciaran mice from Petco. What's the difference? 

A cage. A cage where they can poo and not crawl all over my counters. That's the difference.

It's not like I didn't know there were mice around though. I saw one in the basement the other day. It decided to die on its own I think because a few days later I found it keeled over. I really don't think my cat-mouse-trap killed it as there were no visible wounds. Maybe it just decided to kick it instead of get mauled by a cat or caught in a trap? 

I was a bit squeamish about having traps around. I hate to kill anything. But Scott and the in-laws are right - I can't have them in the house. Especially not pooing on my counters. Little f*ckers. I'm opting for the old snap trap things over the glue pads. I just can't with the glue pads. If I have to kill them, I want it over with fast. I don't want them to know what hit them. With glue traps they get stuck there and die slow. I could never handle that. When I worked in the coffee bar on 40th Street in Manhattan, I would be the one laying on the floor of the back room, looking under the appliances and sinks at the struggling mice dying on the glue pads, crying and talking sweet to them. I soon got one the schedule of the Orkin Man and after he laid the glue traps... I'd sneak back there and get rid of them. Don't tell the Brother's Coffee Company. Oh, wait - they went out of business! Nevermind.

I probably invited them though. As I was cleaning the kitchen, I considered that dishes left in the sink overnight here probably isn't a good idea. Nor is leaving anything in a pot on the stove. My days of cleaning up in the morning are over, I think. Now I have to have everything all spic n'span before I can relax for the night. Damn you, Fivel! Get back on that ship for Russia. 

I also had to kill a wasp couple building a nest underneath my awning over the back door. I apologized profusely before I sprayed the killer spray. I dreaded that for days. They were so busy doing their thing, I just put it off and put it off. But then yesterday I got stung by a jackass wasp over at my mother-in-law's pool. Its like a big glass of water to those things and they are pretty unavoidable. It hurt like hell but keeping my arm in the 78 degree water helped. However, today it itches like crazy. I have to reach it with a brush or get Aidan to itch it for me. :) That's the bonus to having  little minions. 

So yeah. I killed the wasps before they could sting my kids. Or me. I guess it was one mother against another. 

Thank the Gods I was a Girl Scout

And not only that I was a Girl Scout, but that I was one of those Girl Scouts that actually went camping. A lot. I know there are ex-Scouts out there and probably current Scouts that never camp. Me on the other hand, I spent a massive chunk of time at Camp Edey. I lived full summers at Edey as a camp counselor in my teens. 1990 staff, I still love you with all my heart!

I think the way I feel about Camp Edey, in Bayport, Long Island is probably how some immigrants feel about their native countries. Its the 'Motherland.' I probably bonded with the place on my inaugural camping trip when I was in first grade; a Brownie would be the technical term. I apparently thought it was a great idea to sleep walk along the edge of the lake on the very first night and scare the shit out of my mother and the rest of the leaders - even the seasoned ones. Poor little me in my pink nightgown ( my mother was yet to be skilled in how to dress for outdoor living) tried to wake up my "buddy" to walk to the bathroom, as per the rules but she wouldn't get up. Seven year old me probably said, "If you won't wake up, buddy, I'll walk there myself!" And I wonder where Aidan gets his 'tude from. I must have fallen asleep standing outside the tent because that's the last thing I remember before my mother picked me up and brought me to the bath house. No, actually I have one fleeting memory of wandering through brush.

Back to my renewed thankfulness of my Girl Scout camping experiences. As of this evening, the bugs are coming out in droves in the house. Oh, and the mice. And let's not forget the bats. Maybe they knew Scott was leaving this morning. Maybe they said to each other, "She's going to be lonely. Let's hang out with her! Introduce her to the locals!" Or maybe it was more sinister like, "Let's freak the newbie out. She ain't seen bugs like us!"

However, I got three words for them - Bug Wax Museum.

Oh, yes. The Bug Wax Museum. I could add mice to that, and bats if they don't stay out of my hair. It's very simple to make actually, and could be useful as a sort of 'warning' to other bugs and rodents that I don't fuck around. In the case you feel this would be either a useful item or a conversation piece for your house, the following items are all you need to create your own Bug Wax Museum.

- large citronella candles
- sturdy paper or foam core
- a marker

You want to get those citronella candles in the buckets. This gives you a decent sized flame plus lots of surface area to give those bugs a good landing pool. Poor things really can't help it, even when scores of their brethren are floating in the hot melted wax, they still can't stay away from the flame. 

All you do is light it up and wait. Before long you'll have your first museum acquisitions. Just fish them out of the wax after they die, maybe with a stick or something and drop them on to your board. You may require extra wax to really adhere them to it, but don't use too much otherwise you'll obscure your art. After that, you can use your marker to individually name them with either their real species names, or get creative and give them people names. Camp Edey style was to go with the latter.

Then again, there's the side of me that wants to remain kind. I'm hearing the song from Miss Spider and her Sunny Patch Friends that goes 'Be good to bugs, be good to bugs, be gooooood to bugs!!!"

I saved a spider the other day. And it was pretty creepy looking. Dime sized and fuzzy, it also had green fangs. Yep, green fangs. I looked him up after I caught him in a cup with a plate for a lid - he was the Phidippus Audax, otherwise known as the Bold Jumper. He was harmless as well as relatively small, unlike the one in the kitchen tonight that I trapped under a cup and had Scott deal with. And he was kind of cute, in a spidery kind of way. But still, back off, bro. K?

Something oblong just flew by my head. It was as if it was saying, 'Back off? Back off!? How's this for back off?"

I whacked it with the back of a hair brush. How's that for dead?

Welcome to Indiana. Here's a tornado to kick things off.

Yep. We arrive and the weather gods decide to indoctrinate me and possibly re-indoctrinate Scott with some crazy weather. At least They gave us time to unload the truck.

I should have known there would be something. On the way from New York we got some insane rain coming into Ohio. Top that off with the fact that I hate Ohio (at least I hate the Ohio I see from I-70). We decided to stop at a pet-friendly hotel only to find that almost every hotel was full. I guess all the travelers on I-70 decided to hit the hotels too. But we did find a place and settled all cats and kids by 2 am.

Anyway, back to the tornadoes.Warnings and watches crawled across every local channel on TV and we watched the Doppler radar like they were the Presidential elections (somehow I suspect more people watch the Doppler than the elections, but that's another story). So many counties were lit up with warnings and at one point the county we are in went red too. It wasn't until late in the evening that the first warning sirens went off.

It sort of brought me back to my first days in the Midwest before Scott and I were married. We house sat for his friends parents at the grandparents home, which is actually just across a farm field from here. Scott's mother told me, "If you hear something that sounds like a train, get in the basement." This Long Island girl was horrified. I'm not sure which statement scared me more, that or "If you have to call 911, don't give them the address. Just say Flora Lee's house and they'll find you faster." If I didn't love Scott, I'd have started driving back to NY right then and there. And P.S. I think they'd just recently gotten the 911 option. It was 1996.

So, the sirens go off in the town and my in-laws are saying its for the more southern part of the county. Good ol' Doppler is confirming that, but I put nothing past Mother Nature. I'm then informed that at our new place I probably won't hear the sirens... so I'll need one of those emergency storm radios.

Toto, I don't think we are in New York anymore.

Just before we put the boys to bed, the sirens go off again and it's determined that we should sleep on the main floor in case we have to get to the basement. Poor Aidan was really nervous and it took a while for him to fall asleep. Ciaran on the other hand went right out as he didn't understand as much. Then we lost power. Awesome.

At around 4 am, power returned and in the morning we woke up to a misty day. All in the clear. A few tornadoes touched down about an hour from here and a bad part of the storm had headed for Indy. Everything ended up ok there. Knowing what had happened in Joplin was nerve wracking but the tornadoes in and around Bloomington weren't as devastating.

Driving out to our house that morning, I decided to go a different way than I had been the day or two before. Intuition is an amazing thing because the way I went that morning wasn't really the way I like to go. But I did it anyway, and it avoided me seeing a lot of the damage initially. I didn't actually notice the big tree down in the front part of the property because I was too focused on the drive up the hill. But the big piece of tree lying in the drive caught my attention.

Scott and his father drove up behind me and we moved the branches. Then we got to the top of the hill to find trees snapped at their bases in the windbreak, large branches broken out of trees along the property, the lawn littered with small branches and our neighbor/landlords truck grazed by another tree. Power was still out because power lines were down. Actually the power poles had been snapped at the bases along the road I like to drive in on that I avoided. A barn had its roof peeled open like a giant came along and peeked into see what lived inside. And really, this was nothing. This was nothing compared to what that kind of weather can kick up.

Darren, our neighbor and Scott's friend said it was the worst tree damage that they'd seen up here. He held his arms out as he looked at me and said, "I don't know, Tamrha. Welcome to Indiana!"