Dealing With Unwanted Holiday Guests

Earlier today, while my son and daughter were playing in the backyard, I noticed my son's absence, which typically means he's quietly and appropriately occupied, or doing something he should not...

So I walked around the corner of the house and saw him in the low bushes to the side of the house, against the fence. "Black bug," he said. OK, I thought, and asked 'where'; he stood near the fence and said "'der" and pointed to the ground, where I saw a small clump of what looked like black dirt amongst the bushes. As I got closer, I started to realize that there was a definite 'feather' like texture to it, and I assumed it was either a feather or two that was clumped together from the heavy rains we've just had, or perhaps even a small bird that somehow found it's way into that little corner and died.
My first reaction was to direct he and my daughter away from the 'black bug' and divert their attention to other things. As they went about their independent play i started to wonder about how to go about taking care of this, whatever it ended up being, and decided that I'd return during their nap, use a stick or something to pick up whatever was there and put in in the garbage. I also started to wonder if I should be concerned about a dead bird in these days of 'Avian Flu'. A few months back I simply thought this was something caused by drinking expensive imported French bubble water, but the press coverage and articles I've read have made me uncomfortably aware of the concerns, and I was imagining a set of black sedans from the CDC simultaneously screeching to a stop in front of our house. I also imagined that the mention of a dead bird might also concern my wife, who is also wary of any risks or exposure of disease to the kids. But first I'd need to figure out what I was dealing with.

Once the kids were in bed I'd forgotten the situation and had moved onto the need to find some tools still boxed from the move. At some point, for some reason, I remembered, and somewhat dreaded, the need to go inspect and remove my son's discovery. I found a discarded wrapping paper tube, folded it in half in order to use as 'feather chopsticks', and went to do some poking and prodding.

Whatever it was, it was a clump, and next to impossible to make out I still has a sense of it being feather and dirt. Whatever it was, the repeated attempts to lift it failed and I realized that there was pressure against it from the small fence I'd installed up against the brick and larger fence in order to keep the kids out of the side alley and rickety old, splintery tool shed. Whatever this was, it was caught in the space between the fence and brick. It was also starting to get a little creepy, as it was still not clear if it was a bird or who knows what. I also had figured out that if I could not grip/pick it up with the bent paper tube, I might not make it to the garbage without dropping it either, so I grabbed a small box from nearby in which to place it.

It only took a moment's pressure in the opposite direction of the fence to loosen things enough that I could finally lift the object out. As it began to be accessible I could still not figure it out; I saw a couple of twigs and dirt but it was all staying together. In was only when I placed it in the box that I recognized one of the sticks to be a leg, another to be a scaley tail, and with a double take and sickening feeling, recognized the head, nose, and eyes of a rat.

Earlier this week we'd had several days of severe rain; and this had to have been there through much of it, as it was clearly not 'fresh'. I'll leave out the rest of the gruesome details but suffice to say it was difficult to identify even after extracting it. It went straight into the garbage, stuffed and covered, and ready for disposal.

Once recognized, knowing what I'd found was quite disturbing. As much as I knew it would completely revolt my wife, who has a severe disdain for rats as it is, I also knew that telling her was essential. If there was one, there most certainly could be more, and with our kids playing in the yard, the last thing she should be unaware of is that possibility. It was a strong motivation for me in the placement of that fence, not only to prevent the kids from accessing the rickety shed with its wood slivers and cobwebs, but I recalled having also seen that some rat traps had been placed in there prior to our moving in.

And that's the moment that I thought to myself "If that one died out here, what are the odds that another got into the shed and tripped the trap?" With that thought, I pressed aside the brick that was propped against the door to the shed, unlatched it, opened the door, peered in and saw an overturned rat trap resting against the torso of its victim. Two legs extended from beneath it, a white belly was face up and visible below the trap, and had this been any more cartoonish, there's be outstretched arms as well. Yes, there was a second dead rat in the shed.

Having already removed the first, quite unintentionally, I was not interested in taking on another So I sucked it up, went to tell my wife, who was repulsed to the point of near vomiting. And all I could think was 'at least I found it, not her'. I called our new landlord who promptly came to remove it, discuss the situation and plan further actions. They've never had a problem inside the house, only recently discovered a possible concern on the other side of the property and placed the traps with no results prior to our moving in. But they'll be addressing it promptly, we'll have to be a little more cautious and on guard with the kids in the yard, and hopefully this will be the only entry that you might call a rat tale.

Glad Tidings of Joy

It's Christmas Eve day, I'm watching the kids play in the backyard while my wife gets things together in preparation for our Christmas Eve and for our drive to Roseville tomorrow am. We'd considered going up today but there are limited accommodations and the bottom line for me is a strong desire for the kids to have a Christmas morning in our new home, in familiar surroundings, and with no distractions from the magic of Santa Claus having visited the night before.



(i just smashed my finger fixing the plastic sink in their playhouse for my daughter. Parenting is loaded w/these moments)



Tonight I'll read them 'The Night Before Christmas'. I'll be one of the few traditions I have to pass down to them. The best part being that I'll be read to them from the very same book that my Father read to my brother and I for the bulk of our childhood. And I'm not talking about a different copy of the same book. It's THE very same copy. My older brother had it and used it to read to his children and passed it down to me once mine were born. The first two years of their lives, we read a few pages but there was minimally interested. This year they're 2+ years old, understand (somewhat) the Santa Claus visit and are excitedly awaiting his visit. The book has been on the mantle, awaiting this evening's annual reading, and they've been pointing to and asking about it in anticipation. Their's on only surpassed by my own. I hope we make it all the way through it this year.



This is one of the first times in many years that I've felt so detached from the holiday season. I guess a new job, moving again, renting while selling a home and all the related tasks and adjustments have kept me from focusing on it beyond the kids. I told my wife last night that I felt sad when reflecting on the many years prior and the excitement we had in what we did for each other. The events of the past year have taken their toll on us and we're both running on empty, short-fused and tense. It'll be one of the things I'll be working on in the coming year, and hopefully by next December the house in EDH will be sold, we'll be unpacked and well settled in, we'll be back in sharp, in sync and doing things for each other again for the holidays.



(My daughter just brought me an imaginary cappuccino. Yum!)



The last thing I have to say, having just looked at the name of this entry, is that it sounds like a product endorsement for several cleansing products. It's not. it's just a title. So have a happy holiday everybody, and be of good Cheer™.

It was 25 Years Ago Today

I'm stunned, and almost at a loss for words, to reflect on the murder of John Lennon having occurred 25 years ago today. I know this date well, it never escapes my thought as it rolls around, that it marks a profound and shocking event. When I went to New York in July 2001 I made the trip to the Dakota and to the 'Strawberry Fields' section of Central Park, at both places pausing to reflect on the man and the impact of that event to me personally. But to think it was really 25 years ago seems as surreal as a plasticine flower.

Lots of people have heard the question 'where were you when....'. I was in my 20's, living in Gilroy and working for Consumers Distributors. I had no car [and yes it was breaking my heart] at the time yet I recall a car ride home, probably borrowed from a roommate at the time, and hearing 'Imagine' playing. I was channel surfing and found it odd that it'd be playing on more than one station. They I heard the announcement. I remember being in a complete state of shock.

Only one or two weekends prior, I'd read a brief interview in 'Parade' or some other Sunday paper supplemental. What remains with me to this day was the buoyant tone of Lennon reflecting on the last 5 years of his life, spent out of the limelight and being focused on parenting and home life. He spoke of having recently hit this creative stride, releasing his new record [Double Fantasy] and really being so completely content and happy in his life. And then it was taken away.

I spent my high school years immersed in the Beatles as a group and as solo artists. I would pride myself on not just knowing the music and lyrics, but the trivial details of time, author, singer, instruments, even track placement on releases and what dates. I was the quintessential 'Shrevie' character played by Daniel Stern in Barry Levinson's 1982 film, "Diner".

When I heard the news, I'd arrived home at the rental in Gilroy. I cried. I felt such an overwhelming sadness, for not only the loss of so influential an artist, but the senselessness of it, the loss of what might have been for the world of music, and mostly for the simple connection to the thoughts he'd express about how happy he was with where his life had gone.

On a cold December eveningI was walking through the Christmas tideWhen a stranger came up and asked meIf I'd heard John Lennon diedAnd the two of us went to this barAnd we stayed to close the placeAnd every song we played that nightWas for the late great Johnny Ace
- Paul Simon: The Late Great Johnny Ace