I sat here in the kitchen of our farm home, fiddling on my computer in the quietness of night.  Suddenly from the quiet I heard, skuttle, scratch...then quiet...then skuttle scratchity, then the tiniest squeery-squeery-squeak-squeak breaking the silence and sending shivers through me.  The mice were back.

Earlier today I'd seen one scamper across the floor and under the dishwasher, but it had been several hours, and I'd all but forgotten about them.  Now they were relentless.  Scratching and squeaking and scratching and squeaking...every few minutes pulling me into the pantry to investigate.  Every time looking and searching thoroughly, I found nothing.  I finally assumed they were in the box of paper bags, tried but failed to find a mousetrap, alerted Dan, and returned to the table.

 Sritchy scratchy...no, no.  It's okay.  Dan will handle it later.  Back to work.  squeaky squeak...oy, I hope they don't find food somewhere.  Then it happened.  Aha!  On the counter a mouse had inwittingly revealed himself -- amid the bread, no less!  Now I'd had it.  Forming a standoff with Mr. Mouse in the corner of the counter, behind the bread basket, I stared him down and would not let him escape.  At the same time I picked up the phone and dialed Dan, upstairs in his office, to come down to help immediately.  He did, and with long thick gloves, a rustle and some awful squeaks, he had caught him in his gloved hands.  I rushed to open the door for him, and way out in the snow the mouse went.  Victory!  Back to work.

Ten minutes later: scritchy scratchy scrawl scrawl.  Oh, no!  Is this another one, or the same mouse! On the counter again.  A stand off, a call, a few strategically placed countertop items, a brave husband and some mouse violence that thankfully did not go through the glove, and out again...or perhaps to keep his friend company.

Ten minutes later yet: more scratchig and a flash of brown and a tail runs behind the toaster.  Really?  This is beginning to be routine.  A call, a tussle, but no!  He slipped behind the stove and we lost him in the pantry.  More waiting.

In the pantry the noise stops, then picks up when all is quiet.  I'll leave him be.  Then, Uh-oh.  I can't believe it!  In the breadbasket, crawling around the bread!  It keeps getting worse!  Another call, another tussle, and way way out this time, halfway down the driveway he went, to find a new home in the woods.

Several hours later and no sounds.  Perhaps we threw three mice brothers out, perhaps one very hungry one.  We'll never know.  But it sure was a rush!  Never underestimate the importance and glee of excitement in marriage and home life...even if it does give you the jitters.