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CHUCK HINMAN: I smell a mouse A Chuck Hinman It's Just Me Again short story No. 011. The next previous Chuck Hinman story: Cutting wood in winter Reader comments to CM are appreciated, as are emails directly to Mr. Hinman at: charles.hinman @sbcglobal.net By Chuck Hinman (Contact the author at: charles.hinman @sbcglobal.net) Copyright Chuck Hinman; reprinted with author's permission I SMELL A MOUSE Even though I am old and live at Tallgrass Estates and can't have a garden, never the less, the farmer blood in me reminds me it is time to turn the garden over and order some garden seed catalogs. Shortly after Connie and I were married in 1952, we had an idea it wasn't wise to dish out money each month to rent a house when we could afford to build a house. One of the perks of being a veteran of World War II was that I qualified for 4% Veterans Administration money to build a house. So we bought a building lot in southeast Bartlesville, Oklahoma called Phil-Acres subdivision and built our first house. The subdivision consisted of 10 acres. Ours was the second lot sold in that subdivision. The area quickly developed and now sits next to Washington Park Mall. The first fall and winter we lived there we were surrounded by pasture-like land with tall weeds growing everywhere! We soon discovered the area was infested with field-mice that welcomed us as next door neighbors as well as a respite from oncoming cold weather. The inside of our house was mouse-proof but the garage was a literal play pen for all the mice in the neighborhood. They were probably attracted by our cocker spaniel's (Andy's) food bowl. The mice terrified Connie and they repulsed me so we bought 5 mouse-traps. They filled-up about as fast as we set them out. It wasn't unusual to trap 5 mice each night. There were so many, it was necessary to have mouse funeral services each morning before I went to work. It was brief! No Taps or flag ceremony! Before long it was hard to find a spot in the "mouse cemetery" portion of the yard that hadn't been previously used. Fortunately we were in the country so we weren't subject to ordinances that dictated how many little mouse bodies could be buried in each hole. By the time spring rolled around, we began thinking garden and the first thing that came to mind was where should the garden be located? Wouldn't you know, the ideal spot seemed to be smack-dab in the center of the mouse cemetery. It was perfect -- no other place fit. But first I needed to turn the garden over! Well, everywhere I spaded, there were mouse bodies in different stages of decomposition. I reasoned that even though the idea of growing a garden right in the middle of a mouse cemetery was repulsive, that it, in fact, was probably going to be extremely fertile! So we planted the garden and it was wonderful. The first things to be harvested were wonderful red radishes and leaf lettuce for salads. I'd look at a ruby red radish and just about take a bite ---- and I couldn't do it! I'd try again! Even though it was one of the best gardens we ever had; I never ate a thing out of that garden! It didn't bother Connie! That's OK, but it bothered me when I kissed her! We had the best tomato plants and the prettiest tomatoes but I never put one of them in my mouth. I gave most of the produce away without telling our little secret! That was the last year we had a vegetable garden; we had a nice flower garden but even the pansies appeared to have mouse faces on their pretty blooms! Look at one some time and see if you don't see a pesky little mouse face. Old McDonald had a farm -- E - I, E - I, O --------Written by Chuck Hinman, Tallgrass Estates, July 14, 2005. He began to write his memories for his kids when he was eighty and in 2005 he self-published his book "It's Just Me," a collection of seventy-five of his stories. He has written more than one hundred stories since. This story was posted on 2009-03-15 03:35:56
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences:
Chuck Hinman #089: Cutting wood in winter Chuck Hinman #009: Embarassed on an elevator Chuck Hinman # 120: It's Just Me Again: Time changes things Chuck Hinman. It's Just Me # 374: WASH DAY Chuck Hinman # 069: It's Just Me Again: BOARDING HOUSES Chuck Hinman # 019: It's Just Me Again : 019 : MY FIRST CAR Chuck Hinman: MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOM Chuck Hinman: SNOW ICE CREAM Chuck Hinman: CAREGIVING 101 Chuck Hinman: A MAN NAMED BOB View even more articles in topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences |
 
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