A couple of months ago, Ginny had something nibbled. We hadn't seen any droppings or any other signs of mice, but everyone thought the hole in the bag looked like mice. I thought it looked more like a ripped bag, but my opinions generally aren't worth much.
A week or so ago, I noticed what might be mouse droppings in the basement. It registered just enough for me to think that it looked like everyone had been right about Ginny's food. I didn't think to mention it to anyone. Besides, I spend at most five minutes a day in the basement, and everyone else eats lunch down there. Anything I would notice would have to have been seen by the more observant people, right?
Wrong. Toni noticed today, and Carol investigated, and they discovered large quantities of mouse droppings. So, various disposal methods have been discussed, and nothing was decided. Since it's almost five and I haven't been sent to the hardware store yet, I have this feeling nothing's getting done this weekend.
However, apparently Ginny's really revolted by mice.
Meanwhile, I was out making a Starbucks run for the office, and noticed that my car's growling at me in that I-want-an-oil-change way. Since I'm not due for an oil change for another month, I think my major project for the weekend is going to be figuring out how to tell if my car is low on oil, and what to do about it if it is.
Those who know something about cars may now laugh at me.
And, since I was at Starbucks, the obligatory complaint: in what universe does "tall" mean small?