Of Mice and Ethics

I have been thinking again lately, and I've decided to give it up. The thinking, that is. At least I'm going to give up my expectations for thinking logically and completely through something. I'm not sure it is possible at this stage in life, with this swirling life. I have ideas in my head to blog about, and if I ever manage to address the idea in a post, it gets mixed up with thoughts of eggs and construction and kid drama. I have more to say about this current inability to expand on a thought, but there are other pressing things to write about. Like the stoves.

Friday, Joe, Finley, and Reanna set out to bake some chocolate chip cookies. They got the dough all mixed up and the first pan in the oven, and a few minutes later, the smoke alarm went off. The cookies were charred. Our first thought was that the timer got messed up. In went the next pan, timer set, and soon, more smoke was pouring out of the stove's vent. After a head scratch, we discovered that the oven's heating element was not turning off. A thermometer showed temps had reached over 600 degrees. We turned the breaker off, and the stove was switched out with one we happened to have in the shop. I was so thankful to have a back-up.

Next morning, I set about baking some apple crisp. The oven preheated, and as I moved closer to put the pan in the oven, the smell hit me like a freight train: mouse pee. Dry-heaving, I opened the windows and turned on the fans, and, as Chris was gone for the day, called our neighbor to please come over when he got home to help me move this stove out of the trailer.

As we sat out in the shop with the stinking and broken stoves later, we joked about selling the mouse pee stove on craigslist. "Works perfectly fine," the ad would say. "Have another, so don't need this one." But then we might end up on an episode of People's Court. There were other options. We could take the broken one back into the house, plug it back in and leave for the day. Then maybe the trailer would burn down, and we could use the insurance money to finish the house. However, it might look suspicious if the insurance adjuster noticed that our valuables were safely out at the time. Oh, well.

In other news, the nights have been cooler, and the mice are trying to make their way in. I heard the telltale scritching sound in the wall yesterday morning, so set up the traps, and -SNAP- caught one in the pantry about midnight. Good-ol' Victor traps. I just wish they were quieter.