Have I mentioned that the quirky old New England house I live in has a profusion of woodstoves? Not that we're allowed to use them - it's not covered by the homeowner's insurance policy, and the insurance company office is literally right across the street. Doh.
There's even a funky little stove right in my bedroom, which I really wish I could use because I live in the Coldest House On Earth (whatever the temperature is outside, it's about 10 degrees colder inside. I'm not kidding). It would be so cozy to curl up in bed next to a crackling fire in the stove. Even though I'd probably feel warmer from the sound of the fire than the heat; I'm sure the heat would somehow instantaneously evaporate just like every source of heat does in this house.
But, much as the weather keeps pretending to turn to autumn, it's not quite time yet for fires in woodstoves. So something else has been getting cozy in my stove in the meantime. More specifically, the stovepipe. Night before last I woke up probably three times AN HOUR (again, not kidding) to the sound of something small yet quite industrious dragging who-knows-what into the stovepipe through the roof vent and scratching around. ALL NIGHT.
Mouse? Bat? Pack of rabid killer squirrels? Luckily whatever it is never ventured further down the pipe and out into my bedroom, but that didn't do much to cheer me up at 2:30a.m. At that point I probably would have happily throttled it with my bare hands (but I wouldn't have, no no! Hi, friends-who-recently-had-to-get-rabies-shots-after-catching-a-bat!).
Work yesterday wasn't as tough as I'd feared, fatigue-wise, mostly because I had a really fun crisis to take over my life all day. But today has been a little rough. The little bugger didn't come back last night, but I kind of wish it had because I was all prepared to smoke it out with a small fire in the stove. Yes, I've considered the dangers involved - the nest could catch fire, etc., etc. I talked it over with my landlord, and she agreed it was worth a try (with the emphasis on smoke rather than flame).
Have I mentioned how awesome my landlord is? Truly, truly awesome. If there were any doubt, it would be eradicated by this second part of her advice:
"a tip - if they die in there, you'll want to get the bodies out post haste... such fun!"
I guess that's fun I don't get to have for now, but isn't it nice to have things to look forward to?
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You forgot to mention how it periodically sounded like it was chewing its way through the stovepipe too. As the blissful earplug-wearing sleeper-through-the-night, thanks for not taking out your 2.30 am small-animal rage on me. Glad to hear it didn't resume its construction activities the following night!
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