When Avalon and I still shared a home, that home became home to mice as well. They discovered peanut
butter M&M’s in our cupboard and proceeded to dine, nest, and procreate in
our home. We did not welcome this. Perhaps were their toilet habits better it
would be different.
I immediately offered to get mouse blocks to offer them a
last meal. Avalon objected. She insisted that we get live traps and then
set them free elsewhere. Out of love for
her, I agreed to her approach, though skeptical of the outcome. We went to the store and acquired a pair of
live traps that seemed simple enough. We
baited them and set them near the offending cupboard.
The next morning, we had mice in our traps. We did the following morning and the one
after that as well. Avalon collected
them in a box that they could not chew through. She fed the captured ones and threatened to name
them. I sent her to the park to set them
free before we became foster parents to a brood of mice.
I learned a lesson then.
I learned to think before taking the path of death for creatures unwanted
in my home. That has allowed other mice,
bats, snakes, and spiders to received mercy and even respect from me.
That was then. Since
Avalon went walkabout, I have had other encounters with unwanted creatures
wishing to invade my space. Thus far I
have been able to hold onto the good attitude and usher varmints away without
harming them. Avalon and I were talking this
week and I told her that I suspected that I had a mouse. I had ordered a pair of live traps similar to
the ones we used back then. In brief, I
caught the whiskered, wandering sneaker this morning. He was quite frightened and I immediately
took pity on him.
After preparing for my morning prayer time I took the live mouse,
Mr. Delacroix to the nearby park and set him loose. He sat there for a moment squeaking at
me. I could not tell if he was thanking me
or inviting me to tea. After of moment
of pondering that I was probably too dumb to understand him, he scampered off to
a nearby wood.
I was reminded of how beautiful a creation the small brown
mouse is. I was intent on the way in
which they are so confident and frightened all at once. I am also certain that my conversation with
Mr. Delacroix about love and mercy was better received that it would be by most
humans. We will see if he has relatives inhabiting
my abode. I will name them all and
release them there. My goal is to be
a good steward of creation and be kind to a few mice. This also protects them for the mating pair
of Black Racers living in the garage.
Spoken:
“Wee sleeked cur and timorous beastie,
Oh, what a panic’s in thy breastie.
Thou needenenst start away so hasty,
With bickering brattle.
But a mouse is a mouse for all that.”
Smile your little smile take some tea with me awhile.
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder.
Twitch your whiskers. Feel that you're really real.
Another tea-time another day older.
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder.
Twitch your whiskers. Feel that you're really real.
Another tea-time another day older.
Puff warm breath on your tiny hands.
You wish you were a man,
who every day can turn another page.
Behind your glass, you sit and look
at my ever-open book:
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
You wish you were a man,
who every day can turn another page.
Behind your glass, you sit and look
at my ever-open book:
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
Do you wonder if I really care for you?
Am I just the company you keep?
Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill?
Who hides his head, pretending to sleep?
Am I just the company you keep?
Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill?
Who hides his head, pretending to sleep?
Smile your little smile take some tea with me awhile.
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder.
Twitch your whiskers. Feel that you're really real.
Another tea-time another day older.
Brush away that black cloud from your shoulder.
Twitch your whiskers. Feel that you're really real.
Another tea-time another day older.
Smile your little smile take some tea with me awhile.
And every day we'll turn another page.
Behind your glass, we'll sit and look
at our ever-open book:
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
And every day we'll turn another page.
Behind your glass, we'll sit and look
at our ever-open book:
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a homeowner.
He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Contacts for Aramis
Thorn:
Bookings: aramisthorn@aramisthorn.com
To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
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