July 30, 2019

When I last wrote , I said that I’d gotten to the “it-doesn’t-phase-me-anymore stage with critters like chiggers, ticks, ants, and mice. I have finally gotten used to living in the woods.”

Disregard.

This morning around 5 a.m. I walked down our hill to the road leading to the dock where I usually catch sunrise. Even though the chances were slim that there’d even be one today, I wanted to get close to the water. The lake is so still and peaceful in the morning.

It’s still dark at that time of the day and even more so when it’s cloudy, so rather than continue to walk down to the dock, I decided to sit at the picnic table at B67, which was unoccupied and just enjoy the solitude.

I set my coffee cup down and closed my eyes. Early morning sounds, even before the birds start singing, are repetitive and hypnotic. It was easy to meditate a while.

I opened my eyes just in time to see a STRIPED SKUNK amble past me, less than six feet away. Immediately my heart began to race! My just-opened eyes widened and followed it intently, though my head remained fixed. It was hard not to make a sound. I think I may have been paralyzed for a second. 😏

When it left my periphery, I slowly turned my head and watched it walk across the road and disappear into the darkness. I couldn’t believe my reaction. It was a total 180-degrees from only six days ago when I discovered a mouse in the RV at 4 a.m.

It might have been each animal’s rate of movement that was the factor. The mouse—totally surprised by my blood-curdling screams, as was Dave, who tumbled out of bed at the sound—raced under the fridge, into the bathroom, then back out and under the couch. While Dave remained calm and stoic (probably because he’d been rousted out of a deep sleep), I was having a panic attack on the bed, watching the critter race back and forth across the floor. Dave didn’t even flinch when it scampered across his foot, while I nearly passed out at the sight.

At that point, I was morphing into a basket case and I knew I had to get out of the RV. I leashed the pups—who didn’t know what to make of the tiny grey fireball who was running for its life—and left.

While I was gone, Dave had caught the mouse and tossed the little trouble-maker outside after cornering it with a fly swatter and grabbing it with a paper towel. All’s well that ends well, especially after ten minutes of frenzied hysteria.

We’ve caught a few mice inside the RV, which isn’t unusual, all things considered. But Dave’s been away on family matters for a couple of days, and I’ve had to tend to the mousetraps. I find that rubber gloves makes the task doable, though still disgusting.

So I was just kidding myself when I said I had gotten used to living in the woods. Let’s just say I’m getting used to it. There’s never a dull moment.