It was an eventful weekend here in Trinidad, Colorado. On Friday night we went to a local bar to see a cover band that specializes in Jimi Hendrix guitar solos so excruciatingly long that no amount of beer could make them tolerable (believe me, I tried), Stevie Nicks-style scarves, and, of course, jester hats.
And yesterday I ventured to the church thrift shop, where they apparently have a big problem with people messing the pants.
When I got home from the thrift store I discovered that mice had gone through all my food; I was so upset I nearly messed the pants.
Because there are seven of us living here at the convent, we had to decide by committee how to get rid of the mice. After my glue-trap experience last year (I hid in the bedroom crying while Chris bravely tried to to dispose of a screechy rodent without actually going within five feet of it) I vetoed that option, but was otherwise open to anything. The vegetarian photographer is morally opposed to snap traps but suggested getting a cat. The vegan playwright is allergic to cats but fine with using poison. We settled on humane traps; I think we would have better luck asking the mice to "leave".