We've got a mouse in the kitchen. Aside from completely freaking me out, this is a real shame because the little guy is putting a crimp in my baking addiction. I saw him dart out from under the fridge late yesterday afternoon, and now any little noise or movement has me shrieking and heading for higher ground. I'm quite ashamed of myself, really. I'm trying to remind myself that it's just a teeny mouse, and it's not going to crawl up my pantleg (is it???) or anything. Kevin is away on business - why is he always away on business when we get a mouse? - so my dear neighbor Kerry set some traps for me. God bless all the trap-setting neighbors, every one of them.
(Eight-year-old Rachel saw it quite differently. She went huffing past me, looking like she had been crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said "I'm very mad at you! How could you want to kill a little creature that is alive?")
I've got a pantry full of interesting ingredients, and I really want to be in that kitchen, kneading up some delicious bread. The aforementioned baking addiction seems to be bread-specific, with the occasional pizza crust thrown in for good measure. I'm really not a cookies/cakes/pies kind of girl. I'm all about the breads, both quick and not quick. Pumpkin bread makes the house smell amazing. Oatmeal bread is delish sliced and toasted for breakfast. I've even been experimenting with high gluten bread flour in those pizza crusts, and along with a super-hot oven, I think I'm close to unlocking the secrets of a good homemade pizza. And with an amazing pizza parlor four doors down, the homemade version must be quite good to pass around here.
Now if we could just catch that mouse before Rachel gets home from school, I could get busy in the kitchen. Hmmm, would it be too crazy of me to just drag the big stepladder into the kitchen and work up on it? Maybe I'll try that.
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