Togetherness, bathroom style.
I think that’s all that needs to be said.
In fact, I’m not really sure I could say anything because I’m a bit speechless at this amount of brotherly love.
Togetherness, bathroom style.
I think that’s all that needs to be said.
In fact, I’m not really sure I could say anything because I’m a bit speechless at this amount of brotherly love.
We have a rat. I don’t know if it’s a He-Rat or a She-Rat, but it’s a rat and that’s all I care about.

This is what the rat in our garage looks like...not that I could get it to slow down long enough to pose.
Ratty (as my wee beasts have dubbed it) is living in our garage. The house we live in has settled over the years, and the garage doors don’t sit perfectly flat on the ground. That leaves the tiniest of gaps for all forms of small woodland creatures to enter through. Our dog and cat food bins are (conveniently for small woodland creatures) right next to this gap. As is the trash bin and recycling bin. I’m sure it’s a virtual heaven for small woodland creatures.
Going into the garage, we have had chipmunks streak by and run out of the gap to get back to their homes. This I don’t mind so much. Hey, if we’re messy enough to leave a few dog kibbles on the ground after filling their bowls, it’s our fault that we’ve provided a nice dinner to small woodland creatures. It’s a bit like opening a drive-through window at Kibble Bell. They are up at all hours, hunting and foraging. They need the Fourth Meal more than I do.
But the nice thing about the chipmunks is that they have no interest in staying inside. They don’t view our garage as a motel or vacation condo. They come in. They go out. It’s a symbiotic relationship we have going with them.
But not so with Ratty.
It seems Ratty prefers an abode that is always dry, has enough local conveniences and isn’t highly trafficked. It’s like a rat version of a cul-de-sac in the ‘burbs. And Ratty has found that, despite what we see on the nightly news, the real estate market is good.
The problem is…Ratty scares my kids. He’s so nimble and quick that when we come and go through the garage during his roaming hours, he races inches in front of the Beasts’ feet and freaks them out. They have actually tried to go on strike and refused to walk through the garage. If we open the garage doors, they both want to be carried through so Ratty can’t get them. And combined, they weigh roughly 75% of me, so carrying them isn’t much of an option.
We decided last weekend to move Ratty out. We opened both garage doors and started moving some of our (still unpacked after moving here 18 months ago) boxes into the driveway. Sure enough, Ratty didn’t appreciate the racket and made a move. S/he darted this way and that way. Shrieking occurred, but I won’t divulge whether it was the Beasts or The Doc that did most of the shrieking. We had Ratty cornered and were trying to coordinate getting Ratty in a box when…WHOOSH! Ratty twisted and squirmed just enough to race around the corner and around the house.
Ok, s/he’ll find a nice home outside in the bushes now that s/he knows we’ve sent an eviction notice.
Not so much. I guess that a nice house on a cul-de-sac is the kind of real estate that rats don’t give up on so easily. So just a couple of days later, Ratty was seen streaking through the garage again.
Now we’re onto traps. The giant spring-action snapping kind. The kind that really, really, REALLY hurt when they snap you as you try to learn how to set them for the first time. Not that I’m admitting anything like that happened.
I’m a bit torn because I really don’t want to kill Ratty. I’d rather catch Ratty and take him/her to a nice wooded area near a creek. But the only things I saw at the hardware store were poisons and glue traps, which cause slow horribly painful deaths, or the new fancy white “humane” traps which enclose the rat but give you no way to open them. Which means it’s nice and clean for you, but the rat has no way out and will slowly starve. Again, not so nice. If Ratty has to go, I don’t want Ratty to suffer.
Which leads me to my other issue: How do I know for sure that Ratty is a WILD rat and not a domesticated one that someone released and s/he’s only hiding from us because s/he is so scared? I’ve looked all over the internet for pictures of wild rats, and they all seem to be solid dark gray or black. Ratty is not. Ratty is a splotchy mix of white and gray. I’m conflicted. I would hate for someone to hunt down and kill a pet of mine out of ignorance.
At least for the time being, Ratty seems to be doing his/her best to alleviate that concern by an amazing knack at NOT getting trapped. I’ve had traps baited and trapped for days with no success. The bait is either taken without setting off the trap, or the trap has been sprung but there’s no Ratty.
Ratty seems to be smarter than I am. And that, in and of itself, is almost enough to quash any issues I have with using a snap trap. I am evolved. I am higher on the food chain. I will outsmart this rat.
Everyone in our house was sick over the weekend. And the weather started to mellow out and get a little cooler so it was the perfect time for SOUP!
But I wasn’t interested in going out to the store in my flannel jammies to get a canned of overly salty, floppy-sad-stringy-noodled chicken soup. So looked in the freezer, fridge and pantry and decided I was going to whip up something from scratch.
This was the easiest soup to make and man was it good. Even The Doc said he was impressed by how it tasted. (He’s not much of a soup eater.) The Wee Beasts ate it up, veggies and all, so it must have been something special. Here’s the recipe:
Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup (To Cure a Cold)
2 stalks of celery diced (include some of the leaves!)
1 cup diced parsnips
1 cup pre-shredded carrots (or dice some big carrots)
3 green onions, finely diced (or 1/2 cup onion if you don’t have green onions)
4 cloves garlic minced
8-10 cups of chicken broth/stock
A few sprigs of thyme or 1/2 tsp dried thyme
2 bay leaves
About 1/3 tsp red pepper flakes (more if you like the heat and don’t have kidlet tastes to account for)
3 frozen chicken breasts
1 cup orzo pasta
Here’s how you throw it together:
Heat up a couple tablespoons of olive oil over medium high heat in a stock pot, then throw in the veggies minus the garlic. Sprinkle on a bit of salt to help the veggies sweat and release their juices. After 4-5 minutes, when the onion is getting translucent, add in the garlic. Stir it around and let it cook for about a minute to get some of the raw flavor off the garlic but don’t let it burn.
Then pour in all of the chicken broth or stock. If you don’t have 8-10 cups in the pantry, use what you have and make up the rest in plain water. You have enough going on with the veggies to end up with plenty of flavor. I threw in a few sprigs of thyme that I had, but you could use dried or any other herb of your choice. Rosemary would be good. Also add the bay leaves, sprinkle in the red pepper flakes, and you can grind some fresh black pepper in to boost the flavor profile a bit.
Bring the soup up to a low boil and slip the frozen chicken breasts into their hot bath. This basically poaches the chicken, leaving it completely cooked and super moist in about 20 minutes. After 20 minutes, take the chicken out and set it aside to cool for a few minutes. Meanwhile, add in the pasta. While it is cooking, shred or chop the chicken into bite-sized pieces and add it back to the soup pot.
Test the flavor of the broth and adjust with a little more salt or pepper if needed. Then get yourself a big bowl and ladle some of your soup in. Breathe in the steam and just feel yourself starting to get better. Ahhhhh, that’s why chicken soup is good for your soul and for your cold.
Are you feeling better yet? Everyone in our house did. Homemade chicken noodle soup. It’s a good thing.