Our Old House

In the past couple weeks, a few friends and family have insisted that we are not properly documenting this home-making adventure.  I honestly do not know where to begin with the unbelievable stories and projects we’ve undertaken.

In attempts to not only save money, but also to try our hand at the DIY life, Brandon and I have taken on a lot of projects ourselves to make this old house more of a home.  As reflected in previous posts, we have done a lot of our own demo.  We also put in our own cabinets and have done quite a bit of painting.  All of this really has been fun, but things have slowed down since the temperature has dropped. (The Boiler Drama is to be continued… stay tuned).

It seems that as it gets colder outside, our local wildlife are looking for warmth too… Apparently, they are looking for it in our house - probably didn’t get the memo that it’s also frosty in here.

Several weeks ago, lying in bed on a lazy weekend morning, I heard my husband yell “Oh shit, oh shit!” as he headed downstairs to take Stella outside.  What could this mean?  What would cause a grown man to scream such a thing in his own house?  Not a robbery or even some freak injury… there was a squirrel IN our house. (Sidenote:  we have also have raccoons IN our house - ON our table, EATING our pizza but that is neither here nor there).

Brandon, ever the gentleman, leaves the door open… perhaps Mr. Squirrel would see himself out.  While B and Stelle are out, I’m researching our animal control options, which are limited on weekends and this far south.  Twenty minutes later, a chase ensues, and from upstairs I can hear Stella running and sliding all over the hardwood floors and steps.  I hear slamming doors and a few more “Oh shit!”s for good measure.  There is barking and then nothing.  I come downstairs to find furniture out of place, a tiny puddle of squirrel pee, and sooty black footprints everywhere.

It is quiet.  Our guest has been trapped in the basement and our super/overly friendly lab has become an aggressive hunter - gaze fixed on the temporary basement door.

Once again, Brandon tries to convince me that we need a bb gun… he really wanted one after the pizza-eating raccoon thing.  I said no and now he was in “I told you so” mode.  Anyway, we go to Ace, pick up a humane trap, fill it with peanut butter on crackers, leave it in the basement, and try to figure out how this bastard got in.

 

The next day… trap empty, no peanut butter, no crackers, no squirrel.  Poop and pee all over the basement.  Brandon gets smarter with the trap and this time he puts peanuts and cashews inside of a bag so that he’d have to do some moving around to set the trap off.   

For a few days, nothing.  Then another empty trap.  No nuts, bag OUTSIDE of trap, no squirrel.  More poop.  I’m annoyed.  Brandon and Stella declare war.

We reload the trap with treats wrapped in foil.  We also put out four trays of D-Con poison and wait.

WEEKS later… empty trap, empty D-Con tray, smell of rotting animal in the kitchen. We couldn’t locate the exact source of the smell and still haven’t figured out how he got in but we’re assuming he’s gone.  The smell has faded so we’re thinking that he’s past the disgusting, stinking, decomposition stage.  Hopefully he’s drying up and joining the countless other old/dead (?) things in the walls of this house.

M