Thursday, February 24, 2011

Of Mice and Men and Mothballs

This week, I may have just made the stupidest decision of my life.

By the end of this story, you might feel sorry for me. You will certainly laugh your ass off.

But the chaos started a couple weeks ago.

I was driving to work, freezing cold outside, defrost roaring inside, when suddenly to my shock, I literally watched a crack grow across my windshield. We actually already had a crack on our windshield, but it wasn’t in the line of sight, so it passed PA inspections (ugh… inspections). Now with two, probably not.

The next week, we called Comcast (twice) because it seemed like our cable was going out. It wasn’t – it was just our third TV to die in about four months. Then Amber scraped a pole in a parking garage with our brand new 2009 Civic (not the one with the cracked windshield). I once read Sheldon Vanauken’s A Severe Mercy, where he wrote that he and his wife always purposefully dented their new cars to quickly remind themselves about not to put their love in temporal items. Needless to say, I didn’t take it as well—but I couldn’t be too harsh given the two parking tickets I got in January…

Sunday night (this week) we were awoken around 2 am to the sound of a rodent (we thought it was a mouse but it could be a squirrel) chewing on something in the wall of our bedroom. I was disturbed for a second, and given that I’m deaf in one ear, was able to put my good ear on the pillow and pretend it wasn’t happening. Amber was not too happy about my apathetic response and promptly nudged me and asked what I was going to do about it. I didn’t do anything, hoping the little critter would just go away.

Monday, we dragged our gigantic tube TV across the floor to make our way down the basement stairs, into the car, and on to the TV recycling center. When we took it into the kitchen, it completely destroyed our already cracked threshold.

Monday night, I was awoken again to the sound of a critter, this time above our ceiling. Clearly, he was not going away and he was finding a way into our attic. Amber woke up, heard the noise, and started looking up what to do to get rid of mice in your attic. She spouted off a list of things I would have to go purchase at Home Depot (once I shoveled the four inches of fresh snow off the driveway) in the morning: De-Con, the plug-ins that supposedly send off a signal mice don’t like, and mothballs. Yes, according to many websites, mothballs will rid you of your pests.

Tuesday night, I went up into the attic and threw mothballs throughout the attic – often purposely throwing at the far reaches of the attic and even down the sides into our walls where the little critter sounds had come from. I had been a successfully good husband.

I should have done more homework first.

No less than thirty minutes later, the entire house smelled of mothballs. So, yes, many people use mothballs as a deterrent for mice because they hate the smell. It is also a deterrent for humans. The smell is only the half of it. Mothballs kill moths and larvae. How? By suffocation. They are gassed to death. According to other websites, mothballs can also kill humans.

At this point, Amber asked me how I placed the mothballs and told me I should go get them out of the attic. I explained to that that was an impossible feat. Mothballs are white and the size of marbles. Insulation is slightly pinkish but basically looks white, especially in poor lighting. This is a needle in a haystack kind of thing.

After refusing to respond to her determined request for two hours, at 11pm, I read up on mothballs on the internet and freaked out. They are very dangerous little things. As this one guy writes, they are evil. In fact, I discovered on the internet that there were other not so informed deter the mice homeowners who had made the same mistake as I. One threw four boxes of mothballs into his attic and finally he and his family moved into his mother’s house for a month. Thankfully, I thought, I had only thrown around ¾ of a box.

So, we set up an air mattress downstairs and over our silently sleeping two year-old—and I rigged our box fan into the vent in the attic to increase circulation. I slept on the couch. I did not sleep for long. At 4:30, I woke up and could not fall back asleep, fearing for our lives and running through the mind the fact that I had dumbly put my family in a gas trap.

At 6AM, I drove to Home Depot and bought a number of items to clear out the attic. Then, I emailed my boss to tell her I wouldn’t be in for work, and rounded it out with a quick email plea for help to some of my friends. Then, up I went into the attic from where I would not return for a long while.

There was no way to remove the mothballs without removing the insulation. This is not rolled insulation. It is blown-in, which means it is chopped up into a trillion pieces and looks like an enormous pillow fight explosion. This was, indeed, insulation I and a friend had installed a few months before (thanks Kylie).

From 7-9, I gathered insulation into trash bags by myself. Then my friend, Ben, came over and helped while Amber watched E and their two year-old (she and E are only four days apart) for an hour and a half until Amber had to leave for work (at which time, Ben would have to stop helping to watch E). I dropped Ben off, I went back to work.

At 11:45 I got a call from my friend Sean, who was free and coming over. Hallelujah. I stopped for a brief lunch. I tried heating up my food in the microwave, and it sparked like mad – as it did last night. Our microwave has also died.

I ate my homemade mac and cheese cold. It was gross. But it was homemade.

We worked, gathering insulation in trash bags and discovering moth balls as if they were buried gold nuggets until 4:30. 75 trash bags later, we had cleared out the attic (now I have a garage fully of trash bags), and we had 30 confirmed mothball sightings. I had been in my attic for nearly 10 hours, all day long thinking, “If this is the dumbest thing I do in my life, I should be proud… No I’ll never live this one down.” My body hurts.

We’ve also gathered up all the odor eliminator products we could find. I have a pile of charcoal and some lava rocks in the attic. Amber placed out some old containers of baking soda and fennel seed. And I must say, after leaving the windows open all day and doing all that we did, we have smelled a remarkable improvement. Now, we have a very smelly garage… But alas, there are still mothballs in our walls that we cannot get out so we’re not quite sure how well we solved the problem.

After all this, I had to go teach a college course from 6-8:30p.m. After cleaning up from the mess, and showering, fifteen minutes later, I met up with a babysitter who would watch E before Amber got home for just a hour. I then drove downtown and hit an onslaught of traffic due to a Pittsburgh Penguins game and had to park a mile away.

We slept again on an air mattress downstairs. I can’t remember the last time my body felt this sore. By Thursday morning, Amber was paranoid that she was getting sick from the smell—even though I taped up the door to the garage, the smell of mothballs knocked me over when I opened the door to the basement. I had planned to wait to move the trash bags of insulation to a friend’s shed—the very friend who helped me blow in the insulation in the first place!—until Saturday, but it couldn’t wait. I moved all the bags outside, and we opened the windows to our house for the rest of the day (it was 40 degrees today). After a few hours, Amber came home and said the house smelled fine, but once she turned on the heater the smell started to come back, albeit faintly.

So, as a precautionary measure, we are sleeping somewhere else tonight and staying away from the house for another day. Hopefully by the weekend this little trip through Purgatory will be over.

Lessons learned:
- The internet tells the truth, just not always the whole truth on the same webpage.
- Moth balls are a strong deterrent for many animals… and for people too.
- Always read the label.
- I have a new appreciation for the term, “fuming.”

P.S. – We still have a critter in our attic.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Emerson's Words

So, we've been trying to tally up a list of all the words, ASL signs (largely thanks to "Signing Time" videos), and sounds Emerson uses to communicate with us now at 20 months, and here's what we came up with. Not that he's a genius or anything, but you can sure tell where his interests lie (balls, animals, and trucks!):

Spoken words:
Ball
Dog
Cat
Truck
Tow truck (“ta tuck”)
Tractor (“tac ta”)
Car
Yuck
Sock
Shoes (“shoooo”)
Hat
Momma
Dadda
Nite Nite
Baby (“dada,” not to be confused with Daddy…)
Duck
Shark
Cookie
Cheese
Banana (“nana”)
Juice (“joo”)
Hot
“Deck Dopter” (helicopter – we’ve only heard this one once)
“Ana” (his term for virtually everything that flies)
Please
One (“un”)
Two
Boot (“boop”)
Yes (“yah”)
No
Nose
Mouth (“Moum”)
Eye (“aah”)
All done
Bye bye (“nye nye” – he never says this to people… in fact, the only time he really says it is when we’re flushing stink bugs down the toilet!)
More

ASL (sign language):
Hug
Toothbrush
More / Help / Ball (they all look alike these days… depends on the context!)
Cold
Eat / Food
Milk
Drink
Apple
Cookie
Cheese
Cracker
Ice cream
Coat
Hat
Bath
Mom
Dad
Grandma
Book
Fish
Bird
Alligator/Crocodile
Tiger
Elephant
Bear
Spider
Octopus
Hippopotamus
Rhinocerous
Giraffe
Zebra
Lobster/Crab
Camel
Starfish
Grumpy (he learned this from pointing out this dog in a Clifford book that was always angry!)
Please
Hurt
Sorry (we’re starting to use this one quite a bit!)
Sleep
Cell Phone (holds palm up to his ear)
Work
Airplane
Train
All done
Baseball
Basketball

Sounds:
Grr (bear)
Rarr (lion, tiger, and quite a few others)
Wadda Wadda Wadda (penguin)
Eee Eee (monkey)
Arf Arf! (dog)
Hamph (crocodile)
Hop! (frog)
Arr Arr (sea lion)
Twee twee (bird)
Caw Caw (parrot)
Baaa (Sheep/goat)
Haa haa (Horse – he literally fake laughs)
Mmmmm (cow)
Buck buck (chicken)
Doo Doo! (rooster)
Snort (pig – he makes a snorting sound and wrinkles his nose)
Eww (Skunk – he also plugs his nose with his fingers and wrinkles his face, which is the same thing he does if he has a dirty diaper)
Ssss (snake)
Whoo (owl)
Hhhmmmm (elephant)
Pppfff (human fart)
WhoOOO (Fire truck)
Choo Choo (train)

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Emerson Ball Skills

So Emerson has really been showing off his ball throwing skills lately. Check out his great form (and hilarious leg kick) in the following videos:



[If the video doesn't come up, go to this link]



[Again, if the video doesn't come up go to this link]

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Pumpkin Patch

Amber's mom was in town this past week, and we took Emerson to the pumpkin patch. Here's a comparison with last year. I can't believe this is the same kid!





























And a comparison of Halloween costumes:

Saturday, August 7, 2010

France yada yada

After a brief interlude from posting about our France trip, I've finally made the time to finish up sharing the highlights of our trip. This and one more post should do it!

Day 7
Today is Sunday, and after the exhausting day we had yesterday, we decide to stay close to the hotel. We start off the day with a trip to Isle Sur La Sorgue’s locally famous market—on Sunday practically the entire town is overrun with street vendors selling everything from spices to fruits to dresses to paintings. Amber bought a summer dress, along with our hummus, some amazing peaches, and a couple cold drinks (a rarity in France, especially if you don’t want to pay double the price).

After our time in the market, we went back to the room and swam in the hotel pool, did some laundry, took a nap, and entertained ourselves by watching Emerson run around the room.

In the evening, its back out on the town to get a good dinner (as long as Emerson can make it through the meal without crashing…). Since most places don’t open until 7:30 (the French eat late!), we went to the park and started dinner off with an ice cream cone :). And once again, Emerson was entertaining the locals, stole an older kids soccer ball, and all and all made us laugh out loud on a regular basis.

For dinner, we had a bottle of rosé wine (which is popular in the Provence region), along with our meals: mine was melon and slices of meat for my entrée and filet mignon and French fries for the plat, while Amber had escargot and salmon. Emerson was so thirsty when we first sat down that he immediately pointed at my glass of wine and was asking for it. Me thinking he wouldn't like it after the initial sip, let him try it only to have him start chugging it down! Sad to say, Emerson just couldn’t sit still and was really tired, so one of us wound up walking around town with him while the other ate dinner.

Day 8
This morning, we checked out of our hotel and are slated to drive a rental car to Les Baux in the evening. Before getting the car (let’s not even talk about how much it cost to have it for just one day!!!), we walked around Avignon to see the famous sites—the Palace of the Popes and St Benezet Bridge most of all. If you look at some of our photos from Avignon, you’ll see tons of posters hung up everywhere. That’s because we were in Avignon during the time of their famous theatre festival they’ve been having for over sixty years that attracts an extra 100,000 people to the city.

In the rental car, after our sleep deprived son had finally fallen asleep and I had figured out how to get out of the city, we were off to the Dentelles de Montmirail mountain region (not without stopping in a little tiny town to ask for directions!) where the air is electricfied with the sound of cicadas (its so loud I thought something was wrong with our rental car) We visited some wineries that were in the middle of nowhere but well worth the trip. The little Chevy Spark (a car so small you won’t find in the States!) we rented had a rough time getting up the mountainside, but it was fun driving the 5-speed manual through the winding roads. The scenery was fantastic and the wine lovely (and cheap!), both of which reminded us of the Tuscany region in Italy.

Now, it was off to find Les Baux (again, I only had to stop and ask for directions once!), a little town on the top of a hill in the Alpilles mountains that was once a powerful defensive location in the middle ages (and long before then actually). There, we stayed in a little B&B and found a nice little (and quiet) restaurant to try out some more French cuisine. Nothing really notable to mention here but it was at this moment that it occurred to us that Emerson had lived off of little more than the inside of French baguettes for a week!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

More Stories From France


Day 5
Before leaving Carcassone, we visited a local park, which gave Emerson ample time to expend some of his pent up energy (I never realized stopping at so many parks would become a necessary part of my vacation...). Thankfully, after lots of running around and lots of pushing him in his strollers, he finally fell asleep (and we were able to just carry his stroller right on the train and leave him in it).

Then we spent most of the day on a very long train trip to Avignon. We got there two hours later than expected, as there was fire on the tracks (in southern France, it rains on average only one day during the entire month of July). Alas, it gave Emerson more time to flirt with the other passengers. Once to Avignon, another short train to L'Isle Sur La Sorgue, a beautiful little town with shallow clear streams of water flowing all around it and dozens of water mills. First stop after checking into the hotel: the local bakery. Not a bad dinner. We ate in a local park that gave Emerson the space to run around (again). Then we walked around town a bit and Emerson got his first kiss - from an older French gal that had a fancy for him!

Honestly, this was the first of many cultural encounters that we had that simply would not have happened had we not taken Emerson with us. Traveling with a toddler is a tiring, extra complicated experience, but it most certainly opened opportunities for us to engage with the locals in ways we never would have expected. On numerous occasions, little children just walked right up to Emerson and started chatting with him. In fact, by the end of the trip, he was mimicking the French accent and trying to talk like them!

And now a brief interlude to display the many faces of Emerson Jude:





















































































































Day 6
Today totally did not turn out as I had planned it. For starters it was just way too hot (mid 90s). We went to Pont du Gard, the remains of an ancient Roman aqueduct, and Emerson fell asleep 5 minutes before our bus arrived. Then he totally flipped out after he fell headlong into the stream we were wading in. We headed back to the bus stop to make our way to Nimes only to watch the bus roundabout just in front of our stop and drive away. Needless to say, we were not the only ones stranded and wound up calling a taxi and splitting the costs with another couple who happened to get Phds from Indiana State University.

At Nimes, hungry and exhausted, we quickly search for some grub. Our first stop: a strawberry slushie. The lady explained to us (in French but with very descriptive hand gestures) that if we were going to feed the baby (“bebe”) any of it, to use the spoon part at the end of the straw and just give him little amounts so he wouldn’t get a “slurpee tumor” (at least that’s what we called them growing up). Amber and I didn’t think anything of it until both of us got headaches from drinking it too fast! After lunch, we had just enough energy (and time) to take tour of the Arena (like the Coliseum in Rome but far more preserved-they actually had it set up for a bunch of summer concerts.

With all of us exhausted, and Emerson not having had a long enough nap, it was back to the train station - one to Avignon and another to Isle Sur La Sorgue. Knowing a nice sit down dinner wouldn't be possible tonight, we picked up a few things from a grocery store and a sandwich shop. Bought a bottle of Cotes de Rhone red wine and asked the clerk if he had a corkscrew, his friend standing by told us we could stop by his shop down the street and he'd help us out--opened up shop just to open our wine bottle! At the sandwich shop, I ordered a "French original" which turned out to be a Philly steak sub with fries on top of it... Flew around the world just so I could eat at a place like Pittsburgh’s Primanti's!

Once back in the room, Emerson was now full of energy and running around like a madman. At one moment, he grunted and kind of hunched over (a telltale sign), said "oops," and then put his hand over his mouth and nose to say "P-ewww." Then when I shut off the light and said "night night," he sprinted around the bed and flipped on Amber's bedside lamp that she had shown him how to turn on not ten minutes earlier.

Finally, with the kid asleep and a half bottle of wine remaining, Amber and I are flipping between the FIFA world cup and some French reality show akin to America’s Fear Factor.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

French Diaries pt. Deux

Day 3
Had a good conversation with two other conference participants on the bus from Ireland and Hong Kong. Actually, today had fewer presentations so a lot of my time was spent chatting and networking(largely on behalf of the Duquesne Press where I work).

I often find myself uncomfortable at these things, as if being on the outside looking in. It's not that people are unfriendly (NALS is far better than SPEP), but more so that the people who have spent a long time and work on Levinas and making him a prominent thinker in continental philosophy in the US have been doing it for quite some time back when it was just a few of them, and therefore, are closely knit.It could of course have to do with the fact that they just don't have the time to give to every single person-especially not when these society meetings are almost like class reunions-not to mention that one does not gain any notoriety in academia until one has published a book.

Nevertheless I'm grateful for those young professors who are willing to associate with us grad students (that NALS doesn't separate the presentations helps lessen the rift but the gulf still persists).

Tonight, I had a wonderful French with nine other participants representing the US, Canada, Bulgaria, Switzerland, and the UK. A number of them knew French so I didn't really have to work to get my order. Regardless, around the table of good food and French wine-and a Spain victory over Germany being monitored inthe background-we conversed and shared our lives with one another. Actually, one of the individuals from Canada had very similar interests as myself, and, it turns out, had published an article that I had found immensely helpful a couple years back.

Day 4
Amber and Emerson get to Toulouse. The buses I plan to take end up taking longer than I planned so I got to the airport late. Amber is on the verge of tears-I'm late, she's spent the whole night on a plane with Emerson on her own, and she can't find her bag (thankfully we found it before we left). Given the fact that I knew how short Amber's layovers were, I'm just glad she made it on all the flights! Emerson actually slept some on the plane, but he's still in a complete daze. I think he's a bit surprised to see Dad in this strange, new place, given that he hasn't seen him in a few days (he cried when I got out of the car at the airport!).

We went straight from the airport to the train station and booked tickets to Carcassone - a well-maintained medieval city with magnificient walls (and was the set for Robin Hood:Prince of Thieves, which makes for two Costner sets I've visited this summer). After settling into our room at the Abbey (which was quite nice), I went on a hunt for diapers.... A rather long hunt. At least it provided Emerson a chance to take a nap. Afterward, it was out to the castle and one a amazing meal - mussels covered with a cream sauce, lamb (Amber got duck), and a half carafe of local red wine for about $50. I could learn to like this life! Emerson woke up in the stroller not long before we arrived at the restaurant, so he was full of energy. We were fortunate that another little boy about his age was also there (and there were very few people there when we first got there, as is often the case as American tourists eat so much earlier than the French!), so they were able to run around the outdoor dining area together.