There's A Rat Among Us

This is not a humor blog, although from time-to-time you'll find some humor. The story I'm about to tell you is completely true and maybe a little bit funny.

You may recall that on Saturday, Grandad and I undertook the cleaning and de-cluttering of our garage. Like most suburban homes in South Texas, we have a two-car attached garage. We use it primarily for storage and I park my car inside. Before Saturday, there was so much clutter that I could just barely fit my mid-sized SUV in it. Lots of stuff gets stored in the garage including the lawn mower, weed-eater, Christmas trees, outdoor holiday decorations, Grandad's tools, fishing equipment, just to name a few. It also serves as the collection point for anything to be donated or sold. Our bicycles used to be stored there until they were stolen a couple of months ago, when we carelessly left the door open one night.

We used to be really good at cleaning it once a year and making a donation to Goodwill and/or having a garage sale. But in the five years that Grandad was sick, we've not been able to get it done. A lot, and I do mean a lot, of stuff has amassed there. There was so much that we didn't know where to start. We just dove in and started.

We worked for several hours and got a lot done. We filled both our trash can and our recycle bin to the point of overflowing. There were several domestic accidents that mostly included broken glass. There were no injuries, so it was okay.

After 36 years, I have come to realize that I am married to a potential hoarder. If I let him, Grandad would keep EVERYTHING! He comes by it honestly. It took several days and several collection bins the size of 18 wheelers to clean out his Dad's shed.

My Father-In-Law's shed

 I have decided that we've just got to have some rules.

• We now have a plastic cabinet with three large drawers to hold "shop rags." He can keep all the rags that will fit in that cabinet and no more. Any more than that must go into the trash.
• We will only keep a limited number of pieces of plywood. He probably has 15 different scraps of various sizes of plywood leftover from various projects. They have been in the garage for at least ten years without being used. Plywood is readily available and not expensive. We will no longer be storing plywood scraps in our garage.
• Dangerous and poisonous substances that are stored in the garage must be moved to a safe place. We often have little ones here, therefore everything must be moved out of reach of little hands.
• We will get rid of all the stuff that we've been saving to use for nonspecific projects, especially those that have been waiting for several years.

We made a lot of progress, but we only got about halfway done. Sometime around 3 p.m. things went horribly wrong.

We moved a cabinet from one side of the garage to the other and in doing so uncovered a stack of posterboards. I was kind of happy to see them, because some of them were the signs we used for our last garage sale. All we have to do is darken them up a little and I won't have to make new signs. So I picked them us and stacked them to one side and turned back around to see what was on the other posters. I picked up the next one and behind it was a rat ... not a mouse ... a rat ... a big, black rat. It actually hissed at me. I screamed and ran out the garage door into the yard. The rat ran through the kitchen door into the house and ultimately into our bedroom. Grandad attempted unsuccessfully to close the kitchen door, thereby keeping the rat out of the house. Instead, he bumped into two 8 feet long glass shelves that had been destined for the garage sale, causing them to crash and fall onto the concrete floor and explode into millions of pieces.

Grandad pursued the rat into the house where he found it under our bed against the back wall of the house. In a flash of genius (?) Grandad decided that he should just shoot the rat with a pellet gun. I suggested a shotgun, but he thought that would be too messy. Grandad closed and sealed all the doors thereby trapping the rat in the bedroom and went next door to borrow a pellet gun. Meanwhile, I camped on the swing in the front yard.

He returned 20 minutes or so later, with not a pellet gun, but with a bb gun. While I stayed on the swing, he went in and started shooting. He did manage to hit the rat several times, but not enough to kill it. So now we had a bleeding rat in the bedroom. When Grandad came out of the bedroom, the mouse hid. At this point I decided to go buy a rat trap. I made a quick trip to HEB and returned with a very large trap and peanut butter. We set the trap, closed the door, and waited. Nothing happened. Around 7 o'clock, Grandad went and bought sticky traps and placed them around the room, also baited with peanut butter. He spent quite a long time looking for the rat and could not find it. We picked up something for dinner and continued to wait.  Around 9 o'clock I announced that I would be sleeping on the sofa, Grandad said he'd take the recliner. I had Grandad get me a pair of pajamas out of our room and I went to the bathroom on the other side of the house for my shower. Grandad bravely decided to shower in the master bath. While he was in the shower, the rat emerged and got stuck to the sticky trap. More precisely, the mouse's back feet got stuck. His front feet were still on my floor. He was so big that he was dragging the trap around the bedroom.

Grandad ran to the garage and grabbed a shovel and a box. He had to whack the mouse a couple of times with the shovel to knock him out, because he kept running, with the sticky trap attached. He was approximately 9 inches long, not counting his tail. We both breathed huge sighs of relief. Neither of us was looking forward to sleeping in the living room. But mostly neither of us was happy about sharing our home with a 9 inch rat.

We have now moved the sticky traps to the garage. Hopefully, he doesn't have any brothers or children.

Grandad has taken the day off tomorrow and again on Wednesday to work on finishing the garage and getting it ready to set up for a garage sale on Saturday.

We Have Too Much Stuff

I'm still on my clean out and de-clutter crusade around the house. Today's target was Nick's room, more precisely, Nick's closet.

Nick graduated from high school in May of 2000, then left for college in August. After that he came home for summers, and then he lived at home for about eight months after graduation until he found a job. For the most part, he's been gone for more than ten years now. But the problem is, he never completely moved out. Oh sure, he's married and has a house of his own (which is more than twice as big as ours), but he's never really moved all his stuff. It's like he's trying to keep a foothold here in case he ever needs to come back home.

My question is ... do they every really move out? Don't get me wrong ... he's gone, but his stuff is still here. And by stuff, I mean clothing that he hasn't worn in many years, shoes and boots that he occasionally wears when he comes home to go hunting, college textbooks and notes, photos of his high school friends, the suit we bought him for job hunting, a catalog case from his first job that he can't remember the combination to unlock, notes from a basketball camp he went to in 1996, assorted trophies and medals from high school sports, both high school and college letter jackets, a beautiful onyx chess set that has never been taken out of the box, and a variety of other "stuff."

Now, in all fairness to Nick, we also found a bunch of other stuff that we had just been cramming into his closet for the past ten years or so. I had stored pillows, mattress pads, quilts, blankets, picture frames, books, a picnic basket, stacks of magazines, a bunch of clothes that Grandad has outgrown, a briefcase, several overnight bags and suitcases, boxes of memorabilia from the kid's school years, a pair of lamps I want to rewire, and assorted other "stuff."

In short, even though I've been working on it for months, we still have too much "stuff" all over the house. Next up on the clean out list is my craft closet and then the closet in Katy's room. My goal is to get it done this week and have a garage sale within the next couple of weeks. My real goal is not to end up like those people on Hoarders. None of this stuff is coming back into my house. Anything that doesn't sell goes to Goodwill.

"Anyone who has ever cleaned out a closet and taken stuff to Goodwill knows how liberating it is. You feel lighter, your mind feels clearer." - Cecile Andrews

Discipline & Bitchiness

There are a few things that make me absolutely crazy. Over the years of our marriage, I have tried to identify and minimize these things. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not so much.

In the 36 years we've been married, we have spent countless hours searching for keys. That was easily remedied by hanging a set of hooks that are designated for keys. No one is allowed to put their keys anywhere else. I even had to impose this rule for our adult children and their spouses when they visit. Life is too short to spend it looking for keys.

When our kids were little we once lost a set of keys at my in-laws' house. One of the toddlers had been carrying them around and playing with them. After many hours of searching, they were found inside of a pair of cowboy boots in a bedroom closet. From that day forward, keys were no longer toys for the babies.

Now that the key problem has been successfully solved, there are places in our home that have become "drop spots" for a variety of things. The worst, and the one that's making me crazy right now, is the dining room table. When the kids lived here, we ate dinner at the table every night so it was not a problem. We had to clear it every night before dinner. Now that it's just the two of us, we eat in the living room in front of the television so the table doesn't get cleared regularly. We come in from the garage, through the kitchen, and drop whatever we're carrying on the dining room table. I can't blame it all on Grandad, we both drop stuff there. Here's what is on and around it tonight.

• a stack of t-shirts I picked up Saturday at Goodwill's half price clothing sale (to be upcycled for my Etsy Shop)
• an old non-working VCR that Grandad took out of our bedroom two weeks ago
• two bags of candles from Bath & Body Works sale last weekend
• a Tupperware cake-carrier that's been wating about a month to be returned to storage
• one of my sweaters which needs to go back to the car
• a new jacket that needs to be put away
• a bottle of Tylenol that should be in the medicine cabinet
• a metal repair kit that my son left there when he was home last about three weeks ago
• two baseball caps
• my purse
• the bag that I take to school when I sub
• a couple of empty plastic grocery bags
• a couple of reusable shopping bags that I made last week
• several note pads
• a few receipts that need to be put away
• an e-mail that Grandad printed
• the dirty t-shirt and shorts that Grandad wore to mow the lawn on Saturday
• a folding cooler and a clock that we got last week at our electric co-op's annual meeting
• and, on the floor right next to the table, Grandad's huge Crocs (size 15 shoes are a tripping hazard)

The two pedestal cake plates with covers are the only things that actually belong there. Everything else needs to be put away. We just don't seem to be disciplined enough to do it on a regular basis.

I don't really have a solution for this other than discipline and bitchiness. I will have to discipline myself not to drop and leave things there or to clear it off every night. And, if Grandad doesn't take the hint, I'll have to get bitchy about it. I'll let you know how it goes.

Life is Good and I'm Taking Control

For the past several years Grams has felt like my life has been out of control. There were a number of things that contributed to that feeling. Here's just a brief recap of the major events of the past few years.

With the assistance of Adult Protective Services, my siblings and I removed our mentally-challenged sister from my mother's home against my mother's wishes. I left a job that I loved after 32 years because the new management and I didn't see eye-to-eye. My mother had to be moved to a nursing home which was followed by a series of falls and several surgeries. My husband got sick, had heart surgery and still didn't improve. Mom slipped into a coma then her kidneys failed and we had to make the decision not to start dialysis. Then the same day I found out my husband had to have lung surgery, my mother died. My husband hat lung surgery the same day we buried Mom, so I didn't even go to the funeral. We spent the next three years searching for a medical solution to my husband's declining health with an endless amount of frustration.

I went from being a working woman who never lifted a finger at home, didn't cook, and had a manicure every two weeks to being responsible for everything, and I mean everything, at home. It would have been so easy to just surrender and fall into a deep depression. But somebody had to keep everything going, so I got out of bed every single day and just kept putting one foot in front of the other and doing what had to be done. Honestly, some days that's all I could do, just put one foot in front of the other and keep going. But it's not in my nature to surrender or quit, so that's what I did. I just kept going as best I could.

I'm happy to report that, once again, life is good! Grandad is finally on the road to wellness. He actually feels good for the first time in years and he's back to his old self which means he's pitching in and helping around the house, marking things off my "honey-do" list, and even joking around. We made it through this dark time with the support of our wonderful kids, a great group of friends, and prayers and support from our extended family and friends.

And some great things have come out of all of this. Grandad and I are closer than we've ever been. We've always been each other's best friends, but we've learned a deeper trust and reliance on each other. My kids have shown me what wonderfully responsible adults they are. I've always known they were great kids, but they and their spouses have been there for us in ways that I never even imagined they would be. When we needed something, I had only to ask and sometimes I didn't even have to ask. They knew what we needed and they just did it. I could not ask for better kids ... they are amazing!

But this tumultuous period has had at least one casualty ... my house. We've always struggled with clutter. Both of us come from a long line of hoarders. When my father-in-law died it took three men and more than one industrial-sized dumpster to clean out his junk. Grandad has inherited that need to hold on to stuff in case you ever need it. And five of us spent three days going through my mother's two-room apartment. Then we ended up just selling almost everything to a junk dealer who hauled it away for us. I too struggle with wanting to "collect" stuff like my mother did.

This means that every closet, drawer and storage area in the house and garage is packed to the fullest. I'm afraid to open some of the doors because I know stuff is going to come tumbling out. Now that our kids are grown and gone, shouldn't we have more closet space? Not so! I've learned that, while they don't want to take all their stuff with them, they don't want me to get rid of it either. The clutter has taken over. I almost feel like I could be on an episode of The Hoarders. Seriously, it's not as bad as all that, but now that I'm feeling more in control of my life in general, I feel the need to take control of the clutter. And, I'm determined that cleaning out my stuff will not be such a huge job for my kids in the future.

Bottom file drawer - before de-cluttering

Starting today, I'm going to de-clutter my house one small space at a time. I'm starting with one drawer of our file cabinet. The bottom drawer is full of old computer software and hardware. Some of it is as old as our very first PC which would make ridiculously old and out of date. For years, we've just tossed old software, cables, and small hardware into this drawer in case we ever need it again. Well, enough is enough, it's time for it to go. I bought a new package of 33 gallon trash bags. I have my recycle bins on standby, I've got my Freecycle account ready to list the stuff that someone else might be able to use, and I've dusted off the shredder and moved it into the area where I'll be working.

My new byline will be "if we haven't needed it in the past year, we don't need it." It's going to be tough, but I think the hardest part will be just getting started. Updates will follow ... stay tuned.

Technology or Not Technology

Grams loves books! Anyone who knows Grams even a little bit knows that I am an avid reader. I love to read almost anything.

I remember distinctly the first time I could recognize the words "See Spot run" in my first grade primer Fun With Dick and Jane. To be able to see printed words and to understand what those words meant when I saw them on the printed page was pure magic. I was hooked from the very beginning!

Sometime shortly after my first grade year, sets of World Book, Childcraft and Golden Book Encyclopedias appeared at our house. I suspect that my Aunt Nava bought them because I know that such an investment would probably have been too large of an expense for my parents. I spent many hours poring through these books. I especially loved the Golden Books. They were beautifully illustrated and written for children and I wish I had them today. Childcraft was full of fun experiments and good instructions for hobbies and kept me busy many summers. And for several years those were pretty much my only books. I learned nursery rhymes and fairy tales from reading them over and over again. I used those encyclopedias well into my teens.

In 1964 when my family moved to Corpus Christi I discovered something new to add to my reading enjoyment ... the bookmobile. I knew about libraries, although I don't remember ever going to the library before our move. But to a 10-year-old girl in a new city where I didn't know anyone, the bookmobile was a godsend.

That summer, every other week, the bookmobile would drive up to the recreation center right around the corner from my house and open its doors from 9 a.m. until noon. This was when I got my first library card. Before I could borrow books, my mother had to take me downtown to the big La Retama Public Library and get me a library card. Books became my new best friend! The bookmobile introduced me to The Bobbsey Twins, The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. I learned about adventures with The Island of the Blue Dolphins and The Call of the Wild. I don't recall many of the other books I read that summer, but I do remember being consumed by reading to the point where my mother would occasionally nudge me out the door to go outside and play. I can point to that summer as the beginning of my lifelong love affair with books.

As a teenager I discovered trashy novels. I'm pretty sure I would have been in big trouble if my mother had known what was contained within the pages of Harold Robbins' books, and The Carpetbaggers and A Stone for Danny Fisher which I read around the age of 14. After high school I discovered romance novels. I started with Harlequin Romances but soon advanced to such notorious bodice-rippers as Nora Roberts, Johanna Lindsey and Kathleen E. Woodiwiss.

Although I still occassionally indulge in a trashy romance novel, I like to think my reading has evolved. Thanks to the influence of my son-in-law, who is a high school English teacher with very sophisticated taste in books, and the Book Snobs (my ladies book club), I now read a wide variety of books including bestsellers, classic literature, mysteries, Victorian novels, biographies, almost anything.

I love the tactile nature of holding a book in my hand and leafing through the pages. I like the way books smell. I like the idea that other people have read this exact same book and then passed it on for someone else to enjoy. I love walking into someone's house and looking at the books on their bookshelves. I like to pick up a book that was printed more than a hundred years ago and know that it has been read by generation after generation of people. A big part of the joy of reading is sharing books. There is nothing I enjoy more than reading a book and passing it on to a friend or acquaintance for them to enjoy.

Keeping my nightstand from being buried by books is a constant challenge. I'm not even a "book saver." I don't keep most books, I read them and pass them on or sell them at Half Price Books to get more books. But still it would be very easy to turn into one of those people whose house is defined by stacks of books, magazines and newspapers.

A couple of years ago, my kids gave me an MP3 player and a subscription to Audible.com. Since then I do at least half of my reading by listening to books on my MP3 player while I'm driving. I thoroughly enjoy it and have listened to books that I would probably never get around to sitting down and reading.

For quite some time now I've been looking at and reading reviews of the Kindle and now the new Nook. I must admit I love the idea of instantly downloading books to such a device and of having all my books in one lightweight and easy to carry electronic device. I'm attracted to the idea of less clutter. I've considered asking for one for Christmas or my birthday.

Here is the conundrum. It won't feel like a book; it won't smell like a book; you can't share it like a book; and it won't actually be a book. You can still tell your friends about it and encourage them to read it, but you can't hand it to them and say, "I really enjoyed this and I want to share it with you." I think that's at least half the fun of reading. I'm not quite sold on this new technological approach to books. So, for now at least, I'm sticking with my stacks and bags of actual hard-copy printed books. I'll keep my clutter in order to keep the joy of sharing books with my friends.

I'd be interested to know what you think, especially if you already own an electronic device for books. Should I leap into the 21st century or stay safely ensconced in my clutter?