My plan was to do a series of sister posts leading up to National Sisters' Day, which is tomorrow. What happened involves two crews of men, each blaming the other for the fact that my internet line was sucked away from my house, across my lawn, and under the road, ending up somewhere in a field. I was 8 days w/o real internet, just the pitiful dribble my phone allows. Still, they're all being really nice to me: no charge for the re-install, and my bill has been reduced for the week I wandered alone in the world.
The upshot is that my last week of sisterly essays couldn't be posted. I'm sure life will go on without them.
As to the mice, I've never had such a problem with them in the summer. Usually we get a few in the fall, when the weather turns cold and they look for a warm spot to spend the winter. This year it's been constant. If I'm quiet in the morning as I sip my coffee, they come out and skitter around the kitchen. If we catch one, two more appear. My house is clean, but it's also a century old and full of little places they can get in that we don't even know about. All the food that's available to them is the cat's kibble, and we try to remember to cover it at night. (Yes, she hates that, but we all have to sacrifice.) The weather is lovely. They could be playing outside. Why are they in here, making my toes curl?
Those are my thoughts after a week without political debates and news of dumb baseball trades. Sisters, good. Mice, bad.