There’s a room off the rear of the house at the top of steps by the back door that I’ve always referred to as a mud room. The roughly 5’x 7’ closed-off area could probably be better defined as something else, and compared to the mud rooms these days with 16-station shoe cubbies, closets, heated changing benches, showers, refrigerators, flat screens and bidets, this modest 1928 space probably doesn’t really qualify anymore as a bona fide mud room. There are some improvements to the room though, as several years ago I piped in a mason jar light fixture and built some shelves on the north side where plastic bags, recycling trash, Duraflame logs and bottled water are stored. It’s also a good place for the broom, dust pan, the spurs from our horse days in California, an old sand-wedge golf club I use for intruding animals (different story for a different day), a couple of baseball mits and my old cowboy hat.
At the base of the old shelves are some shoes…the blue flip-flops I bought 20 years ago at an ABC store in Waikiki, my Redwing work boots, and a pair of old Asics 1100 running shoes I use for various lighter home improvement projects. The running shoes were originally off-white with oranges stripes, but after several recent roofing projects (house and garage), they’re covered with more silver emulsion reflective roof paint than anything else.
Last Saturday, I sat down on the wood steps in the back and put on the running shoes before a few hours of vegetable planting and general gardening. As soon as I started down the stairs, it was apparent there was some sort of annoying pebble or stone in the left shoe, but at 50, it hurts too much to bend over and remove the shoe, so I decided to just tough it out. Also, as a heralded Los Angeles high school athlete that still likely holds the record for most passed balls as a catcher in a baseball game (Hamilton vs. Gardena 1979), it just seemed more manly to suck it up and play through the pain.
The obstruction in my left shoe was indeed annoying, but it wasn’t long before I was immersed in transplanting tomatoes and basil, as well as couple of violet colored impatiens for some hanging potted plants below the wisteria on the brick wall on the back of the garage. Thankfully, I didn’t have to move around much so the damage to my left foot was pretty minimal. After a couple of hours of intense planting, I decided it was time to knock off for the afternoon and have a non-alcoholic beer and a cheap cigar.
As I climbed the rear stairs I became more aware of the pebble in my left shoe, and was looking forward to kicking of the shoes and trading them out for my blue ABC flip-flops. I used the toe of my right shoe to step on the heel of the left shoe (hurts less than bending down and doing it the right way) and quickly kicked off the left shoe. As I did, a small white pebble that had been stuck to the bottom of my sock broke away and bounce along the brown wood floor. Phew…what a relief. I then used the left stocking toes to press down on my right heel, and when I kicked off the right shoe…I noticed this horrific multi-colored stain on the right side of my right sock. It was gross…a kind of brown…yellow and blood-colored blotch that had soaked into a good part of the cotton material.
I tried to figure out what had happened, and as I kicked the right shoe right-side up (it had flipped over), the fresh carcass of a rather good sized mouse fell to the floor. The mouse was flat as a pancake, and remarkably well-preserved. It was fairly clear that every drop of bodily fluid that had been in that mouse…was now soaked into my sock.
Now…I know that you’re thinking…you’re dying to give me a foot massage. But beyond that, you’re also probably wondering how I could have a mouse in my shoe and not know it? Well, I don’t know either. I’ve always heard they’re very supple which allows them to get through small openings, and I suppose the combination of that and the fact that I’m losing the feeling in my feet conspired to create a condition where I could work for 3 hours in the yard with a mouse in my shoe…and not be aware it was there. However it also seemed like a gross metaphor for the fact that the things I often think are my largest issues, are not really my biggest problem. It also seemed like a good sign that I shouldn’t keep shoes in the mud room anymore.
Have a great weekend and try to do something fun. If you can take about 3 minutes, start is with a little music. This song played out the most recent episode of Mad Men.
No comments:
Post a Comment