on the wall

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The Keith Haring project went well. That was our first Art Ambassador unit of the year (two to go), and after much careful planning (followed by getting the careful plan rejected and making another one; repeat), we had a procedure. I'd show a video to each grade at lunchtime — we were going to show five or ten minutes of video, but I found that two and a half was a perfect length for the kids — then tell them when they go out for recess to stop over at the outside gym wall (not the wall ball wall, though) and add to the drawing I'd started earlier that morning. They drew and drew. It was great.

I was at Sarah's school from before 9:30 until after 1:30. After that, I had to take her to the dentist for a thrilling root canal. (Literally: "thrill" comes from the same root (ow) as "drill.") I was going to go back the next day for a repeat of the playground part, but the rain saved me, and I did homework instead. Anyway, here's a flickr set of the whole thing, with 42 photos and a short movie. My longer movies exceeded the 90-second limit of the service, but I was able to include a walk-past of one wall, anyway.
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home wildlife

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The cat was looking too intently at the kitchen trash can, and trying to put a paw behind it, so I went and moved it. The mouse ran into the dining room. The cat clearly missed this part, and continued to pay attention to the trash can. "The dining room. It's in the dining room! Frances! Kitty kitty kitty! Mouse!"

Frances continued to erode her reputation as a great mouser, so I got a disposable plastic container out with the intent of placing it over the mouse, which was going back and forth in the dining room. As I approached, it made a dash for the front stairs, flying over them all and landing, appropriately enough, on the landing, where it took up a position under a plastic toy with some of the aspects of a cage. I tried seeing if I could kick this aside and nab the wee, sleekit cow'rin' beastie, but the little wretch did the same flying trick and vanished behind the biggest bookcase in the house.

I reported our new resident to Cathy, watching the bookcase much the same way the cat watched the trash can. Up in the kitchen, she was still at it. "It's downstairs," I told her. After a bit, I went out and purchased two mouse traps at Wal-Mart. There were two nearly identical pairs, from the same manufacturer, with the same part number, but slightly different design and packaging. I opted for the one with the enticing words "IT KILLS" printed on the cardboard.

Home again. Frances was vigilantly sniffing around the bookcase. I did a couple of things, then unwrapped the mouse traps and went upstairs with them to get some peanut butter to smear in the little circle marked BAIT. Frances was back at the trash can, so I looked behind it. The mouse ran out, bumping the stove before it turned the corner and ran at the kitchen door, where the cat sat. Frances made a move, which I hoped would be the end of it, but the mouse was apparently untouched. It tried to climb the side of the cupboard. Frances watched. Perhaps she was taking mental notes.

I went back for the container to try that trick again (well, it had worked once, a year or so back). As I bent down for it, the mouse moved back toward the kitchen. Without thinking about it much, I put my foot down on it; not hard, unless you're a mouse. It lay still, and I scooped it into the container. The mouse's sides moved slightly. Some blood appeared. I flung the mouse into some bushes outside and threw the container in the garbage and explained my latest heroic deed to Cathy.

And I'm back to the first entry I ever made on LJ. "I crushed a small animal today." Only that time, it was a dream.

As Sarah said when I told her about it, "Eccch!"
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