The Wall

This is the wall behind my desk.

I moved my desk to this corner of the office a few years ago, largely because of the built in bookcase.  It gives me great storage, for books, for pictures, for frames that I haven’t put pictures in, for my gargoyle, and for those pesky business papers that are in the corner in the cardboard bankers file.

It faces into the kitchen, which leads to the rest of the house.  I can keep an eye on Princess if she’s in the living room, see which of the kids is rummaging in the pantry, see who to order back in the bathroom if I didn’t hear hand washing after business was done.

I love this corner.  Problem is, the marsh is about 500 feet east of it.  And something wilder than I seems to have fallen in love with it as well.

Something is in the wall.  Chewing it’s way up and down, likely making nice little wood shavings to form a cozy winter nest.  I’ve sprained my wrist banging on the wall, which honestly only gives me about 20 seconds of quiet before it (he? she?) goes back to its business.  And the sound is driving. Me. Insane.

I’m glad my laptop is mobile, so I can move to the living room today to work.  I’ve got a call into my pest control guy, and man will I have a holiday bonus for him if he can come out today.   (I’m not sure what came to your mind when I said holiday bonus, but I hope it was fresh baked cookies and coffee.)

I’m all for holiday spirit, and opening your doors to friends and family.  But opening my walls to the four legged inhabitants of the marsh is taking my open door policy a bit to far.

All I want for Christmas is a pest free house!