Someone, and I'm not naming names, but it rhymes with mom, only it's not a mom, it's a DAD who's been known to bake a loaf of bread or two now and then, needed a potholder, but did he reach for an appropriate model? It would appear NOT. You call THAT a potholder?? It's appalling, really. Thankfully, the delicious rolls were not adversely affected by the use of an inferior potholder. "What is a potholder?" he stammered, "it's made up of two words: pot and holder. I was not holding a pot, I was...um..." Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge. "And THIS potholder is a work of art, it's far to beautiful to risk ruining..." OK, that's better. All is forgiven. Flattery will get you everywhere.
In other news, I had a mouse on my actual porch, which doubles as Hoops' upstairs apartment, and I have to say, she was pretty useless in capturing said rodent! She was content to chase it around the recycling bin a few times and then put her paw on top of the poor critter, rendering it temporarily squished, but then Hoops got bored (her attention span is gnat-like) and LET THE MOUSE GO! Hello? What happened to the laws of nature?! So I had to take matters into my own hands and trap the now terrified creature under a plastic container. I think I heard an audible sigh of relief. Anything was better than the paw of death, apparently. But now what? I have a co worker who eschewed mouse traps, using a brick instead. Ick. This mousing technique did result, however, in some tasty mouse cookies like these that Pat made for the office.
I slipped a baited mouse trap under the tub to see if the mouse would commit mousie hari kari, but no such luck. It did sample the peanut butter though. In the end, I slid some cardboard under the container and transported Mighty Mouse across the street and let it go in a vacant lot. Destiny will have to run its course. It was really kind of a cute mouse. Hoops looked on with mild interest, but not enough to actually get up off her chaise lounge and help. For this I paid $50 to animal rescue. Sheesh.
Speaking of animals...I paid forward my debt from drafting off the friendly giant cyclist over the weekend. I went for a bike ride this morning before work and happened across a black and a chocolate lab out for an unsupervised romp. They weren't too interested in me or my spinning wheels, so I didn't think much of it. But then on my way back, I saw a lady standing by her van peering up the bike trail yelling at a chocolate lab to come back. The dog (Boomer was his name I believe), however, was employing the selective hearing technique that all pets have, and was trotting happily away from her, basically singing, "la la la, I can't hear you!" He was about a third of a mile away and had paused to sniff a lady out for a walk (she was not amused), so I rode up behind him, climbed off my bike, grabbed his collar and walked him back to his owner. She was very grateful. I asked her about the black lab; he was also hers, but had already come back home on his own. This guy was all wet and muddy, no doubt from playing in the creek where I saw some very large incriminating paw prints.
