Taming of the Shrew: Colfax-Style

Mind if I dream about spring for awhile?

Let's imagine islands of retreating snow... puddles everywhere. Buds in the trees and lawns tinged green. Robins.

Let's imagine stepping outside... and realizing that there's no need for a coat.

Nice fantasy, huh? Of course, in reality it's still only February. We're weeks away from March-- and according to Jon, March is the snowiest month of the year. So spring is still just theory--an expectation.

But... it will come. And so I've started thinking about our next garden.

We didn't have a garden, our first spring in Colfax. The first spring was spent learning about what was already here. We knew that the yard was landscaped with flower beds, but we weren't sure how many beds there were, where they were located or even what was planted in them.

So each time the snow melted back enough to reveal a planting-- and each time the bed's shoots transformed into a specific flower-- it was a surprise. I really appreciated the effort of the people who'd lived here before us. So many thoughtfully planted things.

Last year (our second spring in Colfax) we decided to make the place more of our own.

The biggest project, of course, was digging and planting the vegetable garden. We made a few mistakes (the rows were WAY too close together), but overall it was a big success. Most of what we planted made it to harvest.

This year we're going to expand the garden and make adjustments, according to what we learned last year-- like adding more corn (the corn I froze last year was SO good... but it didn't last very long).

Another "project" in development is our little Leila. She'll be two in April, and is becoming more independent (and doing something new) almost every day.

She talks a lot. She says things like "please" and "thank you," but also "NO!" and "don't!" She eats with a spoon and drinks with a cup... but she still likes her "ba". (Though now that she says "thank you" so nicely when I give her the bottle, I'm wondering if maybe it's time for just cup).

Lately she's been spending a lot of time drawing. A favorite topic these days is circles. Emma taught her to do a circle once (she beamed under Emma's praise). Now Leila fills whole pages with circles.

But... back to the theme of "discovery". Not all of our discoveries here in Colfax have been pleasant ones.

Yesterday morning, while reaching down for the cat's dish, I was surprised by a small mouse-like creature scuttling away from the dish.

As I watched, the (shrew?) retreated to the laundry room, but stayed within my sight. I was able to get a good long look at it. It was definitely not a mouse. It's ears were small, it's nose was long, and if it had eyes they were extremely small-- it didn't look like it even had eyes. It's fur was quite dark-- almost black.

What to do? Killing it was out of the question. I'm willing to set mousetraps and that sort of thing, but I have a real problem with squashing bugs, let alone little animals.

It occurred to me to go get our cat. I figured the thing would be gone by the time I got back, but what else was I going to do? I called the cat downstairs and picked her up. The shrew was still there. I placed the cat directly in front of it.

Well. You can see at right what our cat's reaction to the shrew was. Complete indifference! Not only did she not kill it... she didn't even chase it. She hardly seemed to mind that it was drinking her water, though she was A LITTLE PERTURBED that I'd called her downstairs without first filling her dish.

New flash, Cuddles: if there's a rodent in your cat dish, consider yourself FED.

So... bemusement. My very next thought was "I should take a picture of this-!"

I made a second trip upstairs, returned to a still-not-hiding-shrew, and took a couple of pictures. Then I decided to bring out the big guns: Coco.

Coco, our Jack Russell terrier, is usually not allowed downstairs. But since the shrew incident, that policy is changing. Coco loves to chase small animals, and has killed at least one mouse-- more than I can say for Cuddles.

So it was that I carried a confused Coco down the basement steps. The shrew must have known he was in for it. By the time I got Coco downstairs, the shrew was gone.

But. Our story does not end there.

When the kids came home from school, I told them all about my crazy run-in with the shrew... (and Kitty's "F minus" in killer instinct). They were amused. I remarked to Michael, "Well, at least we know that if we were shrunk down to mouse-size, the cat would probably not try to eat us." I could not say the same for Miss Fanny. Sorry, Lulu.

But I digress. Later that same evening... Emma caught the shrew under a cup! It had returned once again to the cat dish.

An excited Michael called me downstairs. I quickly determined how best to avoid MY having any physical contact with the shrew. So I had Emma slide a thin book under the cup, so the shrew could be moved while still under the cup. With lots of encouragement and the promise of a big reward, Emma carried the shrew upstairs. There were several squeals and hair-raising moments when a tail or little paw flashed out from underneath the cup. But eventually we made it to the door.

I had Emma release the shrew outside. It scuttled off. ("Won't it freeze, Mom?" "No. It wants to be free. It'll find a cozy place somewhere else.")

Of course, the next morning when the kids left for school... we were all confronted with the sight of a dead shrew on our porch. You could see little tracks in the snow, where the shrew had made a few sad attempts to burrow away. But its struggles were futile... and the shrew ended up as an unpleasant little popsicle waiting to confront us just outside the door.

So much for my telling the kids we had liberated the little creature from accidental confinement in our home.

Ironically, while the shrew was homeless and cast out into the cold (by evil me), I was fashioning a mouse-size paradise just a few feet away-- in my art room.

I'm re-doing a shadow box that I'd made a few years ago for my mother. It's filled with miniatures.

I've made a couple of these for special people in the past. The idea is to try and fill the box with miniatures that represent the recipient's interests.

I won't show the full box because Mom hasn't seen it yet. But I can't resist giving you a partial peek inside.

Notice the little photos framed on the wall. Look familiar?