Mouse by Mouse

(my apologies to Anne Lamott)

I'm trying something new with Cheburashka: going to bed early, to get her to sleep too. If I'm awake, she feels she has to be awake too, like there's a party she's missing. I've been getting up at 5am to get my writing done. It will take a while for me to get used to this, but hopefully it won't take long for Cheb to get used to sleeping earlier and I can get back to my regular schedule.

I do like the quiet. Someone's moved into the apartment above mine, and I swear they're building a theme park up there: the hammering and sawing hasn't stopped in two weeks. They stop at a reasonable hour, but I'm just so curious about what they're doing. Especially since the landlord has already completely renovated it (yep, I had to hear that too).

Yesterday morning, as I sat staring at the computer wondering how to fill up five pages in less than two hours, I heard Babykitty knocking around the pieces of Cheburashka's "people house," the wooden dollhouse she got for her birthday last year. Babykitty will often move the pieces so she can curl up into it, but this time she seemed to just slap them around for no reason. Not needing much of an excuse to not write my essay (5 pages due yesterday, nary a word written), I went over to check it out. I found a mouse curled up on one of the little wooden chairs in a corner of the house; Babykitty couldn't quite reach it with her paw.

I won't go into all the details, but half an hour of writing time was spent on trying to catch the mouse. All I had to trap it was the plastic container I use to block hats. I've seen so many mice in this apartment that they don't scare me (which is why I got Babykitty in the first place), but I did get all squealy when it charged right at me as I tried to corral it into the plastic bucket. Eventually, I caught it. It got out. Babykitty got it. End of story.

So, I was down to an hour of writing time, and I had 5 pages due. Somehow I did it, once I realized it was only supposed to be a rough draft and therefore expected to be crappy. I did not disappoint. I don't have a job, so you'd think I'd have time to get my assignments done. Ha. I need to put myself on a schedule: I'm volunteering as an editorial assistant twice a week at the college literary journal, and that leaves me three days with large blocks of writing time. Hop to it, chicky.

Whoa- that's something my mom would say. I'm channeling her.

Looking for knitting content? Check out the Knitting '04 album. The Noro Iro jacket, sans belt.

Comments

[alison]

Iris, could you possibly put a smaller photo up of your Iro jacket? Because, you know, you worked hard to make it, used expensive wool and all, and, well, we might actually want to be able to SEE IT! I mean, I *think* it looks great, but I want to really seeeee it!

Poor mousie.

[Debra]

I want to see your sweater, too. Here's a secret mother trick. Set the clock ahead, but tell her she can "read" in bed, or listen to a book on tape for a half hour. Tell her she has stay in bed except for fire or flood (bedwetting included). I'm a firm believer in a set bedtime, one of my friends tells her kids, "I have nothing left to give"