I hate glue traps. (I may be living in rural areas, but I am not a cowgirl. I am a Glamper, raised in the highly sheltered confines of the suburban ecosystem.)
In the saga of Kernut vs. Zombie Rat, the bait, rat, and snap trap had all disappeared, but were replaced with a plethora of poos. (Poos left by the rat, not by me… Just thought I should clarify that.)
In light of subsequent events, this saga will henceforth be called Kernut vs. Critters.
I hate glue traps. Have a I mentioned that before? Maybe once or twice?
Shortly after posting Kernut vs. Critters, part 1, I discovered a massive nest built on top of my RV gas tank. It had branches (complete with leaves), sticks, rags, a large drinking straw, a spoon, and a ball of shredded fibers the size of a cantaloupe. In addition, it was littered with a gazillion acorns and acorn shells.
I can only assume the drinking straw and spoon were used for the finer dining experiences.
Life in an RV includes unwanted critters, more so than with a regular home. It’s a fact of RV life… you’re often in or near beautiful, undeveloped areas, the kind of undeveloped areas where most wild critters live. I’m about ten minutes or less from civilization, but still in a fairly undeveloped area. It’s lovely and peaceful and full of everything from deer to mice, and a few mosquitoes.
I began hearing things “go bump in the night” a few weeks ago: a bump on the underside of the RV, a bump in the front. I wondered what critter had enough body mass to make a thud that reverberated through the chassis. And then Pye started sitting in the well of the driver’s seat, where your feet go, staring at the wall that separates the peddles from the engine.
She began sitting there all. night. long. So, I began searching for evidence of what she heard.
I found rodent foot prints all over the engine, some evidence of chewed insulation and wire covering. (Rat 1, Kernut 0)
I got out the mothballs, covered the area with them. I was unable to get the round mothballs to stay put in the vertical engine, and the rat seemed undeterred by the mothballs in its path. (Rat 2, Kernut 0)
By now you’re all aware of The Great RV Roll-about.
Maybe more so than you’d like.
Hey, it could be worse – this could be another post about my cat.
For those of you living vicariously through my experiences, I thought you’d like a few t-shirts and bumper stickers from places you haven’t yet been.
If you have a shirt that says “I stood on the corner in Winslow, Arizona” or a bumper sticker that says “I’ve been to Purgatory and back… Purgatory Correctional Facility, Utah” people will think you’ve been there.
And that you’re cool. Naturally.
No need to tell them you haven’t been.
Or, if you have been there, now you can get the shirt you forgot to buy.
(SPOILER ALERT: If you plan to see “The Thing?”, as advertised on the many signs along Highway 10 in Arizona, don’t read any further. They make an effort to keep The Thing? a secret until you get inside the third and last building in the little gas station/museum. However, photos of it are widely published on the internet, and the employee I spoke with said it was ok to write this article and include my photos. It’s totally worth the $1 entrance fee!)
If you’ve ever driven around southeastern Arizona, you’ve seen one of the 247 signs advertising “The Thing?”.
The mysterious Thing.
Every mile or so on I-10 there’s a sign:
“The Thing? What is it?”
“Mystery of the desert”
“Don’t miss The Thing?”
“You’re only 16 miles from The Thing?”
“See The Thing?”
247 signs. TWO-HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN signs. In an often barren landscape with little else to look at you are their captive audience.
On my way to Texas, I stopped in Tombstone, Arizona, home of the infamous OK Corral. No longer the dangerous, wild western town for which it’s so well known, it has become an off-the-beaten-path tourist trap stop.
Downtown Tombstone, Arizona… seems a little quiet.
I just heard about this ‘brain-eating amoeba’ and I think I have it.
It sure would explain a lot.
Moments away, people. Moments away.
We’re all on well water at the place I’ve been RV camping for much of the last month. At first, I drank the water (after filtering it) thinking ‘Ooh, well water! This has to be better the city water I’ve been drinking for the last 20 years – the city water that has chromium six in it.’ (Chromium six is the toxic chemical featured in the Erin Brockovich movie.)
Within two days my cat got sick from the well water, so I immediately switched us to bottled water.
NOW everyone is quick to tell me ‘Don’t drink the water!’
Not sure why they didn’t mention that before I discovered it was toxic on my own.
There’s also a lovely creek here.
Hmm… do you think this is where they might be getting the well water?
First, my undying love and gratitude to those of you who purchased items from my “Zombie Life Is Good” store.
You. Guys. Are. Awesome.
(I still can’t believe it’s not really my family buying stuff, but they swear.)
In a burst of creativity, spurred by a plethora of weird match.com men, cling-ons, and utterly dull coffee dates, I made a few new things. I told several I was too busy “working” to go out with them. I was making these t-shirts. Yup, totally busy working.
Criminal profilers say torturing small animals and insects is first act of future serial killers.Just a bit of foreshadowing that probably explains a lot about me now. And probably why I blog.
When we were little, my father taught us how to build small, light-weight paper airplanes. (I’ll skip the details of the airplane construction because I’d rather not contribute to the delinquency of other minors. Unlike my father. Hi Dad! He taught us all the great stuff like shooting, playing poker, and torturing flies by making them pilots.)