So I just really needed to share this today.
As I was making room for all the apple juice we pressed and canned this last weekend and preparing the canning pantry for yesterday’s post, my hand brushed up against a little string hanging down from the upper shelf.
You can see it in the picture above in the upper left.
There’s a big basket holding plastic freezer containers on the shelf, so I couldn’t see, and I just pulled the string to get it out of the way.
It didn’t budge, so I pulled again. And still it wouldn’t move.
Only now it’s starting to dawn on me that it doesn’t really feel like a string. It’s kinda hard.
It couldn’t be…
AAAAARRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH……yes it could.
I can’t tell you how creeped out I was over this dead mouse, cemented to the shelf because it had been there who knows how long (and no, we never smelled anything…weird).
I backed away with my stomach roiling and rushed to the sink to scrub my hands like I had OCD.
I was pretty proud of the fact that I didn’t scream, yell, or make any childish noises, though I did go get my husband to take care of it. I don’t care how that sounds- it’s just a benefit of being married in my book. I can still bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan – as long as he takes care of the mice.
It was hours before my stomach settled.
I kept reliving what the tail felt like as I pulled over and over. OK, it was only a couple of times, but see what my mind makes it into?
Tell me I’m not alone in this.
Or maybe I should know if I am, and get some help.