The Creature Lives

Creature Under the Stairs - 500
Dena & Blair - 0

We are losing the battle, the war, and everything in between.

The Creature Under the Stairs continues to thwart us. This morning it was growling and squealing and doing high-impact cardio under the stairs. Noon seems to be the time it's most active.

I had the Critter Control guy out and while he was very nice, it was a less than satisfactory experience. We walked around the outside of my house and he pointed out places where animals may be getting in and quoted a hefty sum for them to plug the holes up.

"But that's not getting at what's under my stairs," I said.

"It's probably mice," he said. "They won't travel but 10-25 feet from where they nest."

"So how do we get them?" I asked.

"We'll bait under your house and in your attic," he said.

"I thought you said mice don't travel. How will they get to the bait?"

"Oh. Well, yeah."

I took over. "Listen, we have set out baits and traps and whatnot and none of it works. How do we get to those things in the wall?"

He shoved his hat back on his head. "Well like I said, we'll set out bait and stuff."

AARRRGGGHHH!!!

We circled around this conversation and finally he threw something out that we can't drill into plaster walls b/c we may hit a wrong section, and big chunks would have to be removed and I don't know what all. What it comes down to, in my opinion, is that we're stuck with these stupid things under the stairs. Which I refuse to accept. There has to be someone out there who has a solution. People don't just live with things growling under their stairs.

I know one thing. The money I paid this company is good for 30 days worth of work. I'll have them out here every day if I have to. They'll break into my walls if for no other reason than to get me off their backs.

If anyone out there has any suggestions, I'm wide open.

Repeat After Me: "Duuuuhhhh...."

Ever have those moments that just make you want to cringe and hide under the sofa with the loose change and the leftover Lil' Debbie snack cake crumbs?

Ever have those moments on a daily basis?

I'm feeling that way of late. I can't seem to get it together, which is very unlike me. Normally I'm queen of the checklist. Task, do it, check. Task, do it, check. I love an orderly life.

Now my head is I don't know where and it's a major accomplishment if I remember to rinse all the conditioner out of my hair. I can't seem to focus. I have a number of great ideas for books, for promotion, for classes, for new teaching exercises, but none of it is going to be realized if I don't get a grip and just get something done.

Not helping matters is I made an ass of myself yesterday. Not so out of the ordinary or a big deal, but this time I was an ass while on the phone with a pretty big-deal New York agent.

(Oooh...doesn't that sound sweet? Let's write that again, just for fun. I was on the phone yesterday with A NEW YORK AGENT. The only thing that could make that more fun is to be able to say MY New York Agent.)

We'd met at a speech she gave me writer's group back in November, had talked on the phone a few times, and I'd sent her a holiday card for which she was calling to thank me. All good until, for whatever reason, "fake woman" appeared.

Fake woman is apparently some as of yet unrealized part of my personality who feels the need to chortle (I swear to God, I heard myself chortling on the phone to this agent) and laugh wittily at every thing an agent says.

I could hear the little voice inside my head screaming, "Stop it! Shape up! Act human!" and then watched helplessly as I laughed and chortled like a jackass. What's up with that?

Maybe it's the Creature Under the Stairs that's affecting me. It's still there, alive and kicking. In fact, it was chirping happily earlier today as it gnawed on wood and probably some major electrical circuiting. I've got a critter control service coming out tomorrow and I'm going to urge nuking the furry little rodent.

I've had it. I've tried to be humane. I set out bait and release traps. I politely asked it through the walls to take its young and leave. No more Ms. Nice Guy now. It's time for Armageddon. I want the squeals and the chirping and the growling and the pitter-pattering and the gnawing stopped. I told the receptionist who made the appointment to tell the critter contractor to bring a drill and poison. Let's get it on.

I'll leave on a bright note. I've finally learned the rudiments of how to use my cell phone. I am no longer cursing while trying to figure out how if I have a message or not, and I actually received a call on it the other day.

Look out world. Here I come.

(Just as soon as I remember to rinse the conditioner out of my hair).

Hot Showers & Creatures Under the Stairs

I have discovered I really, really, really, really, really like hot showers. I know this because our hot water pipes froze and I've been without hot water for almost 48 hours. Our home was built in 1907 and while it boasts many cool features such as 6 fireplaces, it also has a tendency toward frozen pipes if the temperature dips below, say, 70.

But now the water is back on, I'm clean, dishes are clean, laundry is churning. I do so love modern appliances.

The creature I mentioned in my first post chose not to attack last night, for which I am grateful. I did still hear some snuffling in the walls though. And now I have a new fear to add to my list.

It occurred to me that since the raccoon trap we've set outside is baited with cat food, there's a good chance one of the many roaming neighborhood cats might get trapped inside. So I was hoofing it outside last night in freezing temperatures, checking to make sure "Spike" or "Mr. Jingles" wasn't trapped and freezing, sending the neighbors after me with pitchforks because they think I'm trapping their cats.

If you know me, you know I have a soft spot for animals, cats in particular. In fact, so far this year I've received a cat book, a cat bookmark, and cat Christmas cards. When I opened the card I turned to my husband and announced matter-of-factly, "It's happened. I have become that woman. The one people give cat gifts too." I'm only 34, which seems a bit young to be so stereotyped, but there it is. When my friends are out in stores shopping for me they are saying things like, "Oh just grab her anything with a cat on it and she'll love it." On the one hand, how dare they? On the other, yeah, I pretty much will love it if it has a cat on it.

A ton of work to do today. Working on a story on how to find the best dog trainer for your animal, and just received an assignment with a 48-hour turnaround date to rewrite Web site content.

So off to grab coffee (checking one more time to make sure no trapped cats are present outside), my laptop, and some inspiration.

Cheers.

Welcome

Why a blog? A couple of reasons.

One, I'm a publicity hound. Luuuv the attention.

Two, seems like a good way to scare family members into docile submission. What? You don't like my cooking? Hey, you know what I just remembered? That time you cheated on your college entrance exams. Well anyway, we'll order in pizza, but hang on a minute. There's something I want to post on my blog...

And third, and this, really, is the most important reason for starting this blog, is that there is some huge, monstrous, mutant creature living underneath my stairs making growling noises, my husband is out of town, the cats are hiding, and this blog may very well end up being a testament of my last moments on earth.

The demon-creature showed up several months ago. My husband and I heard scrabbling under the stairs and assumed it was a mouse. Paid a bunch of money for a pest service to come out, the noises stopped for the 2 hours the guy was here, then picked up again as soon as he left. My guess was the mouse had installed some sort of babysitter cam to tell when the coast was clear.

The scrabblings continuted but the thing was inside our walls and we couldn't get to it. We live in an older home with plaster walls, so installing a nail to hang a frame is enough to send piles of plaster tumbling down. I didn't dig on the pest guy's idea of "drilling a hole in your wall and dropping posion down inside."

Now of course I wish I'd listened. Yesterday there was GROWLING and YIPPING and ANGRY CHIRRPING coming from the under the stairs. Once my jumping up and down on top of the stairs and yelling "Go away, go away, go away!" didn't solve the problem, I was out of ideas.

I called a new pest guy who calmly informed me in a polite southern drawl that I mayhap had a rabid squirrel in there.

AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Sobbing, afriad for my cats lives (do rabid squirrels attack? I betcha they do. And if it's a flying rabid squirrel, we're screwed for sure), I called Animal Control. They told me it could be a racoon which while still terrifying, at least doesn't conjure images of a dripping white foam Cujo-squirrel.

Animal Control guy set out racoon traps, baited them with cat food, and left me here to suffer my fate. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to the sound of gnawing behind the wall of my bedroom closet. Nothing like a little wood gnawing to rush you out of bed. And the cats are no help. They won't even scootch over to make room under the bed to let me hide with them.

Until tomorrow (I hope).