A friend stopped over the other day and the conversation turned toward the miniature sized door I have glued to the bottom side of one of my cabinets. It's what I call a "fairy door" but it doesn't open and there is nothing inside. It's purely for the imagination and probably utterly silly. Lora told me how when she was a little girl there was a hole in a wall of her house where here mother said a mouse lived. It was nothing but a tiny hole. Lora often found herself peering into the darkness hoping to catch a glimpse of the tiny resident, but she never saw him.
The following day I stumbled upon a photograph that took me back to our conversation. It was a real "live" mouse house built into someone's wall. It had a light inside which made the whimsical dwelling serve a double purpose as a nightlight. I found myself intrigued and wondering if maybe I have the perfect spot somewhere in my house for a nightlight "mouse" dwelling. (I'm really just a kid inside...)
Yesterday my bird feeder needed filling and while I was at it, I decided to toss a cupful of peanuts to the blue jays as well. I scooped up a cup of peanuts and when I pulled it out of the bag, an involuntary (and hideous) scream escaped my lips. There on top of my cupful of peanuts lay a still and apparently lifeless mouse. Miraculously, I did not toss the cup or spill anything. Feeling rather foolish, and slightly skittish toward the mouse I was holding, I regained my composure, stepped outside the door into the cold, and tossed the little creature into the snow by his still limp tail. I've since decided to keep my bag of peanuts a little further from the floor and clipped up tight with a bag clip.
I keep saying I'm not afraid of mice, after all, I've had them as pets, but I can't seem to convince myself. I'm stepping a little more gingerly around the birdseed bag.
Wells Memorial Library.
5 hours ago