Tree Sap, mice, a snake and an umbrella (a long, long post that had to be written down and might as well be shared)

I am not even sure where to start this post and how I can convey everything that happened between 4pm Thursday and 4pm Friday. I will state what everyone who has worked at a sleepaway camp probably knows - it is not the real world and it can be bizarre.

This summer I was living in an old house adjacent to the camp property with 3 other women on staff. It is a place where we can each have our own bedroom, share a bathroom and collapse at night after a hard day of work. That is until Thursday evening. But I digress, I have to start with the afternoon.

I was photographing a small event at camp (the mock wedding of two staff members in giraffe costumes which was dreamed up and organized by 9 and 10-year-old girls) and as I went to leave the lakeside pavilion where it was held I felt something drop on my head. Afraid it was bird poop I gingerly touched two fingers to my hair and they felt something sticky. At first I was thrilled it was pine tree sap rather than bird poop, but that happiness did not last long. I never thought about it, or remember hearing of anyone get sap in their hair, and didn’t realize that it would take a lot of work to get it out. So I continued on my way with my new hair product and went back to work. I didn’t return to the house until 9:30 that night where I thought the excitement of the evening was going to be putting peanut butter in my hair and editing photos for camp. Boy was I wrong.

I did indeed walk in the door and slather peanut butter to a large area of my head and then I sat down in the dining room (using that term very loosely) to get work done. My friends/roommates came to join me and we were talking for a while - or more accurately they were making jokes about my hair cleaning method. One of them made the joke that it might bring the mouse out of hiding (oh yeah, I should mention that we had recently had some sightings of a cute little mouse in one of my friend’s room.  She is my brave and animal loving friend M. We named him Phineas and eventually gave him the hebrew name of Fievel, since we work at a jewish summer camp). We all laughed and then I went to shower and scrub the peanut butter out of my hair (it did work).

I returned to the table in my nightshirt and sent some emails, edited some photos and tried to wind down after a tiring day. That lasted for about 5 minutes until my brave friend (the one who didn’t mind having a mouse as a roommate) said the famous last words “there he is.” She was referring to the mouse who was no longer in her room, but was currently scurrying across the living room (another loose term) floor. I quickly pulled my feet up - or at least that’s what I told my friends later - in all honesty I had been keeping them up ever since I heard the news that there was a mouse ANYWHERE in the house. My other two friends, I won’t call them out by name (but you know who you are J & B), leapt up onto their chairs and were doing a little bit of shrieking. One actually pushed the other off of a chair in the chaos causing a tailbone bruising. The injured one ran to her room, slammed the door (to keep the mouse out) and had to have someone bring her ice to put between her legs - a sight to see. In the meantime brave M did her best to try and capture the mouse to put him outside, but he hid under the couch. In my bravest moment, I joined her for a short moment. I was going to move the couch while she tried to sweep him out the front door. Phineas didn’t agree with our plan so he went running into B’s room. She and J were currently holed up in J’s room. So we came up with a plan. One that was farfetched but well-intentioned.

M and B went upstairs to the apartment above our house where two of the camp kitchen staff, the head chef and baker stay. The baker has a cute little dog and two cats, one of whom is 25 pounds and named Piggy. The girls asked if we could borrow Piggy for the night to help catch Phineas. I hear them returning, with a male voice coming along, and I headed to J’s room because I didn’t want the chef to see me in my nightshirt. I hear from my friends that the chef is wearing plastic gloves because he is allergic to the cat. I’m told it was a vision. They bring the cat inside and he immediately starts crying. He is placed on the floor and bolts under the couch where he gets stuck (if you are keeping up with the story you will remember that the mouse is no longer under the couch, but has since traveled to a bedroom and then into the kitchen where we have now lost him (eewwwww)).

The chef, unbeknownst to all of us, decides to turn on the water in the bathroom sink in order to lure Piggy out from under the couch - where he is now wedged and whimpering. Had we known, we would have warned him that the sink doesn’t drain properly (do you see where we are going here?). Five minutes later, while the search for the mouse goes on, M hears running water (I am still and will be holed up in J’s room until a little later in the story) and peeks in the bathroom to see it flooding. So the cat remains under the sofa and the mouse still has free reign of the house as the chef and M work to turn off the water to the sink and the chef attempts to fix the drain. B in the meanwhile has curled up in the fetal position in her bedroom with a towel wedged under the door and will remain there for the rest of this retelling. (Another disclosure - I had been sleeping with towels tightly wedged under my door since I had heard about Phineas).

With the water no longer flowing, chef and M (the fierce duo) return to looking for the mouse and they spot him. Or not. This one is bigger and gray. So now we have two (or more) critters running around the house. The duo discover the mices' home in the kitchen cabinets near the stove and it looks like they have been living with us for quite a while (I am getting nauseated just typing this). I am trying not to think of the disgustingness of this information and concentrate on my gratefulness that the chef is determined to help get rid of the mice. He even tells us that he know Karate and is fast so he’d be able to get them (we laugh (not in his presence) at this statement, but keep reading).

At this point J is in talks with a friend that lives in a room on camp property and she invites us to spend the night if necessary. We will end up taking her up on her offer, but first… they (referring to brave M and the chef for the next few sentences) spot a mouse going behind the dryer and they pull it away from the wall (disconnecting the dryer vent hose) just in time to see him (who we will later identify as the dearly departed Phineas) scurrying in the direction of MY room!!!!  They are reporting this to me through the closed door of J’s room. I am disgusted, but trying to hold it together. Chef comes up with a great (but still gross) idea to get Piggy (who is still under the couch) and put him in my room for the night where he will catch the mouse. So they lift the couch, take the litter box and put them in my room. They are wedging towels under my door from the outside when J emerges to get me my medications - the only thing I say that I need to get through the night. She is told by chef that she can’t go in my room, because if we open the door the cat will bolt. J then points out that there is a hole in the wall where the mouse can escape and possibly Piggy could get stuck. So with bricks in hand (to cover the hole), Chef opens the door and M runs in and grabs my meds and my phone (she loves me).

They emerge and are in the process of breathing a sigh of relief when they see Phineas emerge from the hall closet next to my room. Chef shows M his lightning fast Karate skills and kicks him in the head (sorry mouse)and he is critically injured. He dies at the scene a little later. At this point I am standing on a chair wearing my nightshirt and J’s lounge pants, t-shirt, and sneakers, holding my bottle of meds (there is a picture, but NOT posting that sight). M describes the scene (involves blood) and cleans it up for us. Now we are down one mouse, with an unknown number still remaining and it is well after midnight.

The decision to give up for the night is reached by all. They leave a makeshift trap (wish I had taken a picture) - composed of a box of lightbulbs, a box of trash bags, a broom, a comforter in a bag, a trash can, peanut butter, popcorn and shredded cheese (we want to appeal to all mice) in the middle of the kitchen floor. J and I retreat to her car where we are going to drive to sleep at camp, in G’s room. Chef takes Piggy and heads back to his apartment, a hero in our eyes.

After a long retelling of the above story, G, J and I fall asleep with the plan to ask maintenance staff to help fix our sink, re-hook up our dryer vent hose, and call the exterminator about the mice.  We think we will be able to return to the house the following day.

With a short night’s sleep a group of us try to make a brief outline of the events mentioned previously. J is wonderful and sweeps and mops and does laundry from the flooded bathroom.

And then to quote her text since I can’t say it any better “OK. I’m no longer happy cleaning. P (maintenance person) asked me where he could find a plunger so I happily jaunt over to the linen closet next to the washer, where I got the swiffer from earlier and there is a f***ing snake. I screamed bloody murder and ran to my room!” Yes. We have been and currently are living with both mice and a snake - anyone who knows me will know that I cannot handle this.

After laughing (both because I am not presently at the house and because it’s really all I can do without crying) I ask my friend B (a different B) if I can move into her room with her for the next 6 days until the end of camp. I am grateful as she doesn’t miss a beat and tells me that as long as I’m okay with her walking around naked she’s happy to share. I am even more grateful when a different friend G and her daughter, who I’ve always adored, offer to switch with me. They will move into the house with M and give me my own room at camp. Not only that, but H (the daughter) volunteers to come and protect me from the snake and mice while I pack. I have never packed faster in my life. Three minutes later I was moving on up… to a stucco. For those of you who have been staff at this camp, you will know that they are not luxurious accommodations (assuming it might be like a clean one star hotel), but I can assure you I think I have never been happier to lay my head on a pillow.

Home Sweet Home - for 5 more days!

Leaving out some parts of the twenty four hour experience (those not related and definitely not as funny) I can honestly say I am grateful for a friend who gave me an umbrella while I was standing in the rain, a camp director who worked with me to make camp happier for one of my children, several friends who offered me a snake/mice free place to stay (including one who moved out for me to do so), a teenager who helped me move and kept me somewhat sane, a Karate chopping chef, a baker who leant us a cat, M who rocks in so many different ways, J who kept me in stitches the entire night, so many other people who kept us laughing and this story that will last me a lifetime!

I think that at this time last year a situation like this would have thrown me over the edge, so I am also thankful for all the work I have done and all the people who have helped me and continue to help me.