I don't begrudge it to you. How have you been since your surgery for bowel cancer in May?
It is really impossible to take up the rugs. If I somehow managed to do so, it would be impossible for ME to go into the kitchen. There is really very little space, either in 2 dimensions or 3.
I have no evidence to contradict the hypothesis that the mice are smarter than I am. So, they might be pulling such a stunt. In favor of the hypothesis that the mice are smarter is that they still haven't tripped the Rube Goldberg apparatus I carefully set up in the entrance to the kitchen. For want of a better name, and since "Adlertron" is already the name of another of my hopeless creations, I'll call this contraption the RG002.
I don't actually know that the mice are entering the kitchen by the door. All I know is that when I was in the kitchen the other day, I saw a mouse run *out* the door to parts unknown. As far as I know, it has never returned.
Well, it might prefer to talk to you. In that case, I could leave it up to you and the mouse to settle the matter and I could go back to thinking about other projects.
In a sense, the ineffectual persecution of the mouse, which I described in another posting, is a kind of dialogue in which the mouse explains its capabilities and preferences. There is always the chance that it will decide it hates taking my course on advanced concepts of kitchen ingress and egress and drop out. A career as a professional whose duties often involved teaching has made me uniquely qualified for this way of dealing with mice, and arguably for little else.
I say that if the mouse wants to pursue a career infiltrating kitchens, it can damn well prove it by doing the homework.
Uh, you mean that if I close the door, the mouse won't be able to get in? I was surprised to learn that this principle, like many scientific principles with fancy names, is not true. Raoul's law, for example, is only a law for those mixtures that happen to obey it, and Ohm's law defines resistors to be law abiding. According to the super, mice have no bones. I understand that to mean that the bones are very flexible and they can squeeze under doors, even if one would think they couldn't possibly. In particular, it is quite possible that it simply waltzed in the front door, or perhaps I should say it lindeyed under it. Apart from that, there is not enough room, either inside the kitchen or outside it, for a door to open. Accordingly, there is no door, merely a doorway. There are many people who would argue that where there is a doorway, there must be a door, but it simply isn't true.
My apartment is like the commuter train in Bombay, India, where if you pick up your foot for a moment, you might not find enough room to put it down again.
No room for doors on the kitchen. It was all I could do to have one at the entrance to the apartment.
Well, thanks, that is encouraging. I can just walk around my neighborhood and quickly acquire free discarded electronic junk that might come in useful one day. Except that I never got a clear answer to whether I have to worry about the possibility that it might contain bedbugs, which I don't presently have. It is bad enough that I have mice.
Tell me, what would I want to have in my shed for this purpose?