The critter in my walls

Sophie has discovered a critter in the wall in my bathroom, in the tiny space between the commode and the shower. At least, that’s all I can think because she periodically goes berserk, rushes into the bathroom, and barks furiously at the wall. My calming words come to nothing.

The idea of a critter alarms me for several reasons. Fort Worth, like most cities, has rats all over. We live near a zoo, a park, and a creek. There are chickens right behind me, and I’ve seen rats on the fence, heard them squeaking at night in the trees. I’ve had rats in my belfry, rats in my attic, and, yes, rats in my walls. Two or three times they have died in my walls, an experience not to be forgotten. The stench is awful, and there’s not much you can do except wait for it to go away.

I remember once when the Texas Institute of Letters held their annual meeting in Fort Worth. I invited some that I was close to for brunch the following Sunday morning. The rat probably died Thursday, maybe Wednesday. By Sunday, the odor was in full bloom. And it was in the dining room wall. I served an elegant brunch, if I do say so, and hoped no one said anything. Classy bunch of people, I never heard a comment.

I don’t know this is a rat. Could it be a snake? There is no visible way anything could get from inside the wall to the house, though I intend to call the contractor tomorrow and ask about that. Tonight, I just hope that Sophie sleeps through the night without feeling the need to defend us against that critter.

Jordan and I both went to the doctor today for blood work. On the way home, we stopped at a well-known place that offers take-out food as well as catering. I’d always heard their King Ranch casserole was good, so we bought two—Jordan insisted one would not feed Jacob and anyone else. My opinion: delicious flavor but it was more like King Ranch soup. Should have been served in bowls. Next time, I’ll do it. I make a darn good King Ranch casserole.

My cookbook got a step closer to reality today. With the help of Melinda, production manager for TCU Press, my longtime friend and former employee, who told me where to send the files to have them converted so that I can offer the book on various digital platforms, including Kindle. Wish I understood all that stuff more. But fun note—the person she referred me to has been with that Austin company since the days when I first started at TCU Press—early 1980s. And we did business back then. Company name has changed but still the same outfit. Small world.

And I’m still struggling to save the Alamo—again! Busy day and I’m sleepy.

A Kick in the Pants

Bathroom as it looks today
Not tided up for a picture
Note the wonderful beveled mirror--it stays

Sometimes we need a kick in the pants to jolt us out of our self-absorption. Just got the call I’ve been waiting for—they will start tearing out my bathroom next week. Means I’ll spend the weekend hauling stuff out, sorting and purging, putting what I need in the small half/bath. I’ll have to learn to go to that bath in the middle of the night, adjust my whole pattern. Then, when they tear the kitchen apart, I won’t be able to cook, etc. The contractors, Bundock Construction, have kept this house running for over twenty years, and the assure me we're not doing this for resale value--we're doing it to give me a safe bathroom. Tub goes away, and I'll have a walk-in shower.

We are keeping the built-ins
so typical of a house the age of mine

Suddenly I feel all this will energize me, push me out of my lingering depression over my foot and leg. I spend too much time wondering if I hurt because I don’t walk or I don’t walk because I hurt. I know many have much more severe pain and worse problems than I can even imagine, and I’m looking forward to a doctor’s appointment Monday, hoping for diagnostic as well as therapeutic effects. But meantime, this has given me a great sense of optimism.

Big problem: keeping the dog safely corralled with all the workmen coming in and out of the house—and keeping the house reasonably clean as they cart out tile and spread dust everywhere. It’s going to be an experience and a challenge, just what I need.

Also keeping the wonderful old
medicine chest and
the relatively new sink

I’ve heard that rats don’t like commotion. In fact, I read a post that said to just bang on the ceiling if you hear rats in your attic. I think I have them—again!—because Sophie stands in the hallway and barks at the ceiling. So I’m counting on the construction commotion top chase them away. A side benefit you might say.

I probably won’t get much writing done, but who knows? With all the commotion, I may just retreat to my office, and with the renewed energy, write an entire novel while they redo my bathroom. But how will I get my afternoon nap?

For distraction this afternoon, I had four screaming nine-year-old boys—chaos! They didn’t want snacks, just wanted water, and I left them in the family room (or whatever we’re calling it these days) with frequent trips to check. At one point, Jacob told me, “Juju, we’re having a boy talk.” I asked if that meant I should leave and he said yes. Of course, when Jordan got here, they were starving—ended up eating cheese toast and hot dogs.

Ended the day with a nice supper with Betty at Fixture—we split nachos with brie and cranberry salsa and truffle mac and cheese—an odd combination but good. Because there seemed to be a breeze, we ate outside (much easier on my ears) which was pleasant. Then the rain came, at first gentle and then fairly steady, and everything turned steamy and hot.

They promise a cold front tonight—I thought it was last night.