Carnes: Where’s the (bleeping) mouse? |

Carnes: Where’s the (bleeping) mouse?

One particularly beautiful early evening last week, we sat out back to watch a gorgeous, corona-free sunset.

The temperature was so pleasant we left the back door open a bit, for no other reason than it was nice outside and we knew a storm was coming through the next day, so let’s get some fresh air in the house, yada-yada-yada.

Our cat was enjoying herself as well, running back and forth around the yard for one of the first times since last fall.

Carried away in our self-distracting conversations, it was only at the last second we noticed her high-tailing it back into the house as if being chased by a bear, only to notice a large furry lump in her mouth as she disappeared inside.

It was at this very moment we frantically began playing the cat-aficionado game known as “Find the dead mouse!”

Suffice it to say the score ended: Cat 1, Angry spouse 0.

Yep, we didn’t name her Prim because her last name was Proper.

I went grocery shopping again (we’re taking turns) and saw about the same number as the week before wearing masks and gloves, but noticed more people were smiling at one another.

That was nice.

The pasta and rice shelves were still pretty empty, but nothing else seemed to be limited in supply, not even toilet paper.

At checkout, the clerks were giggling like a couple of schoolgirls, so of course, I asked what was so funny.

Apparently the customer before me, complete with mask and gloves, had actually yelled at them, “Don’t even look at me, hurry up, I want outta here!”

His only purchase was a six-pack of barley and hops.

I look forward to when we can all get back to purchasing non-essential stuff.

Back at home, I’ve discovered that puzzles are much easier with a beer than an edible. They’re probably even easier with neither, but, you know, the virus and all. And wouldn’t you know it, our first 1,000-piece puzzle only had 999 pieces. Damn cat.

Repetitive TV watching has taught me to never use the Sawaya Law Firm, if for no other reason than their obnoxious commercials.

I don’t post on social media very often, but man, it takes all of 30 seconds now for a few dozen to respond.

Food deliveries are great, as we’re helping the delivery guy (person, whatever … ) as well as the restaurant, but there are a lot more choices for take-out.

The space-time continuum around Happy Valley is a complete mess. The two and half months we’ve been quarantined has apparently only been two and a half weeks.

My wife is blaming hormones for those moments when she suddenly breaks out in tears. Personally I think it’s because of the hell this virus crap is putting the world through; the infections, the deaths, the quarantines, job losses, financial issues and, of course, the boredom.

And the cat, of course, shoulders some of the blame as well, at least until we find the Mickey carcass.

I look forward to the day when we look back and think, “Man, life was easier under quarantine.”


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