There was a note on the door today from the apartment management, saying:

This is a friendly reminder that we can not use the balcony for storage. Please remove the toys from your balcony.

Here’s what’s on the patio: Poppy’s picnic table; a Mickey Mouse ball; and a tricycle. All of which we use on a regular basis, on the patio.

I’m wondering, did the people who have patio tables and plants on their balconies get this notice, too? There is not room in my hormonal brain to deal with this right now.

after5catalog.com

I was searching Gifts.com, hoping they would have an inspired suggestion for a gift for Chloe, whose birthday is on Saturday. And indeed, they did! I just can’t believe I didn’t think of the beer belly myself. It’s so Chloe!

Now we’ll just have to hope that she doesn’t read this post. I’d hate to ruin her birthday surprise.

The Mouse Hole. Ugh.

It may be time to concede that we have not a mouse problem but mice trouble.

I cleared out the floor of our bedroom closet to vacuum yesterday (with my new vacuum cleaner! I can’t get enough of it! I’ve been a vacuuming fool!), and I discovered their portal. The mouse guy the apartment complex sent over last week figured they had just sauntered in the front door, which was hung askew and had a giant gap under one said. Au contraire, mouse guy. The little pests ate their way through the wall.

The mouse guy had left some glue traps (which have yet to trap anything) around the kitchen and pantry, so I moved one into the closet, right in front of the hole. But it appears that our mice have their very own set of Mousekatools. The glue trap had been pushed aside when I checked it this morning, and there were fresh mousekadroppings leading away from the hole. (At least I’ll get to vacuum again, eh?)