The Mice May Be Winning

 The past month has been busy. House renovation homestretch and growing season acceleration. This is a shot of Capone (our rescue Amstaff) and me taking a quick and quiet break in our field. 

We knew we had mice and voles but we hadn't contemplated how they would impact things. Silly and naive, I know. 

It started with leaving the beach cabin front door unlocked over a weekend that we weren't there. The door blew open and the mice moved in. We discovered them under the sink chewing through anything they could. After two very sleepless nights of chewing and Capone desperately trying to get to them we had to trap them. It turned out to be just one but it felt like an army.

Then, they got into the greenhouse. They dug up and ate half of my vegetable seeds just as they were about to break ground. I just about cried. We blocked every crack and hole we could find and set traps. Two more down.

My very resourceful and pragmatic husband (and newly anointed Farm Manager) had saved the old kitchen cabinets to rehang in the garage for organization. They have been neatly stored in one corner of the garage and this past week was "hang" day. We pulled everything out of the garage. Side note; for not living there we sure have a lot of stuff already.

Essentially, we tore down what appeared to be a mouse condominium when we pulled the cabinets out. I've never seen so much mouse poop nor have I ever cleaned up so much.

Everything is back in, organized and looks great. We continue to set traps. We've caught a mouse, or two, almost every day for two weeks. 

I have a feeling there is an endless supply and this activity of setting traps will just be part of the routine. Sort of like brushing your teeth. But not.

Additionally, I seem to have developed mouse-poo-phobia. Meaning, every small black speck I see I think is poo. I'm working through it.