Angst

Quote of the Day:  I have cultivated my hysteria with joy and terror. - Charles Baudelaire

How fitting this quote is as I continue my search for a captivating story and an elusive mouse.  I found it in a book called Writers on Writing, or W.O.W. in the section titled "Angst." 

I am now driving around in a van that smells like a peppermint patty on wheels.  My pant legs are tucked securely into my socks as protection from a mouse suddenly appearing at the pedals of my car and crawling up my leg.

My eyes may or may not be burning from the strong dosage of peppermint extract splashed in the van.  My boys may or may not have covered their faces and asked, "What is that smell?"  They did their best to convince me that if they couldn't stand to be in the van more than five minutes, neither could a mouse.  And, a guest passenger might have been screwing up his face in wonder and finally asking, "Why does it smell so much like peppermint in here?"

I got to thinking, what if that little devil is hiding somewhere in the van.  So, I asked my friend JeMA's husband, Jon, if he'd look under my hood.  (It's okay, JeMA approved.) He checked everywhere!  It wasn't in the battery or tucked up under the hood.  He shined his little light under each seat.  He held up something by the tail...no wait...that's not a tail, it's a tea bag.  (Remember, the mint tea bags I threw in there before I got the mint extract.)  He also noticed several dryer sheets stuffed in there...and a few mouse turds on top of a piece of chocolate under the seat that he's leaning on.

Thanks for checking things out, Jon!

 I was in desperate need of a new look and place to relax, so I got my hair done this morning.  JeMA's daughter saw me and exclaimed, "Ooo, I like the raspberry stripes in your hair!"  She's so sweet.  My boys, of course, barely noticed.

But, it put a smile on my face.  And, look! here I am outside in November in Minnesota with just a t-shirt.  It was a glorious day!

One of the characters in my play is based on my hair stylist, Aubrey.  Whenever I'm with her, I'm motivated to finish the play and get a read-through set up.

Thanks, Aubrey, for lifting my spirits, calming my nerves, and giving me inspiration for my play Coffee Shop Confessions.  I think we could collaborate on a sequel, Salon Chair Confessions.  I'm sure you've heard it all!

Journaling Prompt:  Where are you experiencing angst, and how is it coming out in your art?



A Game of Cat and Mouse

Quote of the Day:  Hickory Dickory Dock - traditional Nursery Rhyme

Hickory, dickory dock,

The mouse ran up the clock.

The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,

Hickory, dickory dock.

Those sneaky, little devils will go anywhere!  We've discovered mice and evidence of mice in interesting places.  If you live in and around woods, lakes, fields, the countryside, grass, and the corn is off the fields, and the temps. drop below freezing, you'll get univited guests.  I have boys and a cat named Matilda, but they're more prone to sitting around reading books, or hanging out on the piano bench than out hunting mice.

Get up!  Didn't you hear that scratching sound in the vents?

Oh, I know, Matilda, I'd rather be on the piano bench, too.

Matilda likes mice.  She plays with them by tossing them in the air and chasing them around, maybe giving them a few love taps until they're all played out and run under the couch for a rest.  The rest can turn into a nap they never wake up from.  Then the living room stinks, so I move the couch to vacuum, and WHOA! get a nasty surprise. 

Looks like Miss Matilda is reading the paper and waiting, waiting...

We've had surprises in the bathtub overflow drain (yes!) and most recently suspicious evidence in the van.

A few years back, when Zach was in the tub (around 8 years old), he called me in because he saw something sticking out of the overflow drain.  It was a tail!  Then, a small paw!  I ran out of the bathroom with a shreek!  In the morning, the dad was trying to get rid of the mouse and asked for a tool.  I grabbed the spatula.  The twins were about six-years-old then.  They saw me head upstairs with the spatula and asked if breakfast was ready.  "Not, yet," I said, spatula raised and ready.  "Dad has to kill a mouse first."  They responded, "We're having mice for breakfast?"

  So, when I saw evidence of tiny creatures in the van - ripped up kleenex box and suspicious droppings, I freaked out!  I thought, if a mouse runs out while I'm driving, I'm going to crash.  I looked at the tools I had for this battle - a lightsaber and a cat.  Matilda gave me a one-eyed stare and fell back asleep, so I grabbed the lightsaber, opened all the doors to the van, and poked around in there.  Jab, then - paschew! the lightsaber lit up and made a loud noise.  I jumped.  I jabbed again.  It exploded with a new color and more sound.  I scared myself.  The mouse was probably tucked up under the engine at this point, laughing at me.

It might be gone.  I'm ready to take drastic measures.  I am NOT a mouse taxi.  No way.  No free rides from this chicken, or should I say elephant.  My boys said, "Mom, you're like an elephant."  Hmm, not so sure I like that comparison.  "No, it's because you're afraid of a tiny, little mouse."

So be it.  Mice be gone.  Matilda, wake up!

Go. Create. Inspire!  (then, come over here and help me fight the mice...please.)

Journaling Prompt:  Tell me your mouse tales!