I have a challenge for you, fellow creative Washingtonians. I need your help.
I apparently have a rat colony living in my house. (Yes, a colony. I imagine one of the rats dressed as mayor…)
I’m not naive – I know that DC is rat central. Anyone living in a rowhouse in the city must deal with them at some point. I know that intellectually. But when you find rat droppings in your pantry, it’s not exactly an intellectual moment.
We have an exterminator on the case. He’s sealed up holes, put poison in the walls, laid traps. He’s managing our expectations: they won’t disappear overnight. We’re talking about getting rid of them over the next 2-3 weeks.
2-3 weeks!
In the meantime, friends, I need your help thinking of creative ways to get through this. Not necessarily ways to get rid of the rats – knock on wood, I think our exterminator has that covered – but ways to avoid being a nervous wreck. Should I write rat poetry, to commune with my inner rat? Play a really loud recording of cat sounds? Help me turn this into a creative opportunity of some sort – please, I beg you!
Up next: the nest of squirrels in my attic. (No kidding.)
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Got it hit down
spot knock inside a spider
says: “That’s love yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
“That’s love yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
says: “That’s love – All know it
TV, teeth, feet, peace, feel it…
“That’s love yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
“That’s love yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
like the fall that brings me to
I like the fall that brings me to
I like the cord around sinew
I make a cord around sinew
Duck, the way to least is less
Tea craving of the metal west
‘ell tomorrow’s rain and test
‘ell tomorrow’s rain and test
Love an empty son and guess
Love an empty son and guess
pimples dangerous and blessed
Heaving, arriving, tinkling
mingling jets and statuettes
seething wet we meeting fleck
seething wet we meeting fleck
lines and winds and crib and half
each fair day I give you half
of each fair day I give you half
I look into your eyes and you,
flathe in the sun for you…
Bam, spastic, tactile engine
heaving, crackle, slinky, dormy, roofy, wham
I’ll have them, fried bloke
broken jardy, cardy, smoocho, moocho, paki, pufftle
sploshette moxy, very smelly,
cable, gable, splintra, channel
top the seam he’s taken off
rats, rats lay down flat
we don’t need you, we act like that
and if you think you’re un-loved
then we know about that…
rats, rats, lay down flat!
yes, yes, yes, yes, lay down flat!
“Rats” by Syd Barrett
guess who . . .
Rent The Secret of NIMH and glory in the friendly, super-intellegent rats that save the day!
Cozy up with a copy of Charlotte’s Web. Templeton is rough on the outside, but inside he’s all heart!
The rat poem is excellent. But I think there are some things that do not merit creative effort. Being creeped out is actually a healthy response to your situation. May they all disappear asap! Yuck!
Get a cat. Even if she doesn’t actually catch anything, mine will let me know when the rats (or hopefully, meeses) are hiding behind the counters.
Of course, one of my greatest creative challenges presented ittself when she did catch a rat, and presented it to me with great pride . . .
aas
Have you considered this creative idea: moving out for a while–like until the exterm can tell you they’re gone for good. Perhaps you could move home to Mommy and Daddy.