Of mice and women

It's Sunday night and I'm feeling a bit down. I thought of doing a blog on hunter-gatherers in India and Argentina--groups who have suffered much at the hands of us civilized people. Take a look at Tsunami spells hope for India's hunter-gatherers.

But enough of the world's pain. Let's go for levity.

My beloved Sarah loves to ride bike and walk along the road near Plow Creek and pick up the trash people toss out their car windows. Recently when she's been riding bike she's noticed a box from a 24-pack of beer lying in the ditch. Too big to try to carry on her bike.

On Friday she went for a walk with Louise, another woman from Plow Creek. Aha, she thought when they passed the box in the ditch, I'm not on my bike--I can carry the box home and recycle it.

She picked up the box and it seemed to have something in it. She shook it and out tumbled a mouse, almost landing on Louise's foot. I love imagining the screams.

This afternoon I visited with my mother by phone. I told her Sarah's mouse story. She had a mouse story too. When she was a young woman Dad had set a mouse trap on the ledge in the basement stairwell. One day as she was walking down the stairs she noticed that the trap had tipped over. She reached over to turn it upright as as she did she realized there was a live mouse in it, trying to scratch its way out.

She screamed, ran back up stairs, raced into the bedroom, slammed the door, and leaped up on their bed.

My mother is 77, long past her leaping onto bed days, but she and I laughed and laughed at her mouse story.

I feel better now.