Mister Whiskers.

Most startling surprise this evening.

I had packed up my garbage. But I was already in my pajamas. So I had firmly decided that I would not be taking it out until tomorrow morning, when it was scheduled to be picked up by the fine gentlemen who visit every Tuesday and Friday mornings.*

I went in my bedroom to start unwinding for the evening.

"Maybe I'll do some knitting?" I said to myself.

But I wanted some lavender tea to go with the knitting of my lavender scarf. Back to the kitchen I went. I flipped on the light and saw something scurry across the floor and under the stove...



This was the crime scene. And the assailant was a mouse. He goes by "Mister Whiskers."

Mice don't creep me out. Rats do, though. And if you have mice, it means you usually don't have rats. Silver lining, I guess.

On to the laptop to email my landlord... I requested an exterminator be arranged to come and fill in the holes around the place. And I immediately took all of the garbage out. For good measure I added the boxes of opened food from the cupboards (cereal and crackers) to the bag. I then vacuumed the entire apartment, followed by a mopping of the place.

There is nothing for the little creatures to snack on now. Hopefully they will stay the hell away until I can get the exterminator in here.

**Having one's garbage picked up twice a week feels "indulgent" to me now. In Toronto, garbage is picked up every other week. No lie. The garbage truck shows up weekly, but one week it's garbage while the next week its recycling. I feel spoiled here.