I like the mountains

Remember that old campfire song? "I like the mountains, I like the rolling hills, I like the firelight, I like the daffodils, I like the fireflies when all the lights are low ... boom de ahdah boom de ahdah boom de ahdah boom boom"

Oh, yes, it's a classic, and I probably misquoted it. But I digress.

We just came back from the mountaintop. Literally. Rocky Mountain National Park. I can sometimes forget how much I miss the mountains until I see them again. I think Chicago is 500 feet above sea level. Not quite a contender for the 12,005 foot peak we stood on this past weekend.

So, until I can do that again, I'll just look at my pictures. If you want the link, you can email me.

Squeaker

You know, mice don't really scare me. I'm not one of those women who dashes for the nearest chair and prances about waiting for someone to shoo away the critter. No, I'm really a bit fascinated by their twitchy little noses, and wonder what in the world they are thinking when digging through our combination seed and fertilizer bag in the garage. Perhaps they are eating the seed and building a nest with the rest. I don't know ... but they are a menace ... so ...

We went to Target to get a "trap" of sorts. We decided on the sticky kind. Now I wonder what were WE thinking? Anyway...

Within one hour of setting the glue out, placing a few crumbs of doggy bone on top, I heard squeaking. Fairly loud squeaking, I might add. Was he calling his family members? Mad? Frustrated?

Okay, so we caught the thing, and now what? The instructions on the back of the package don't ever really show a mouse, they show a person throwing away the glue trap. Do you wait until it is dead to throw it away? Do you throw it away squeaking?

EEeek. Perhaps the old fashioned trip-trap is the way to go. At least it takes away the dilemma of what to do when the mouse is caught. eeewww