Rat Bastards + Creepy Attic Space = Insomnia

Well, Spring came late at Chez Kirk, so I have been doing some long-overdue Spring cleaning. What spurred this sudden plunge into cleanliness? Guilt? Necessity? No no, nothing like that. Perhaps it was the not-so-subtle clawing inside the wall directly behind my bed. Yes, I think that was it. Nothing gets a home in tip top shape like good ol' paranoia...and rats. Yes folks, I think I have rats. I know I have at least one and I'm pretty sure he's not using those claws constructively, like shampooing another less fortunate rat's hair or scratching lottery tickets.

It started about 4 days ago at 4am. I awoke to a strange noise. Naturally, I assumed it was a burglar coming to kill me in my sleep. Worse. It was clawing inside the wall...then at the old, defunct heating grate box directly underneath the grate in the floor in the living room. Of course, I got all creeped out and couldn't sleep. This went on, like clockwork (4am) for 2 more days before I remembered I had bought a relatively new Sunbeam pest repellent plug-in thingy that I'd bought about 2 years ago, when I had ants in the kitchen (it also claims to deter roaches, spiders and mice, too). It didn't appear to be working at the time (yes, I'm impatient and skeptical when it comes to something I can't hear, but claims to be working), so I assumed I'd been had and used the highly effective Raid ant traps. I've been ant-free ever since.

So, I went and dug out the Sunbeam, plugged it into the socket on the wall that the alleged rat was using as scratching post. Common sense tells me it's a rat, though my mother is now entertaining the possibility of it being a squirrel. Lovely. Anyway, he never returned...to that particular room. They really do work!

I've only delayed the inevitable call to potential exterminators (it's all about estimates, baby) with my band-aid. I'm now in the process of cleaning the garage, the dining room closet (where the door to the crawl space is) and the laundry room (read half-ass converted back porch). So, during the current cleaning, I've yet to come across a single rat turd or other tell-tale signs, but I still know I have to call an exterminator, if for nothing else, peace of mind. Not to mention I am not about to go venturing up into the attic and/or into the craw space. I think not!

So, back to the stories at hand. First, I've been finding insecticides in all matter of formats: spray can, pump, traps, etc. The one thing I find most interesting about them all is the versatility of the roach killer. I've found "Ant & Roach" killer..."Roach and Flea," "Spider and Roach," etc. Apparently the household roach is the rice pilaf of the insect kingdom. He goes with anything.

Secondly, I cleaned out my ancient water heater closet, located in the bathroom. I don't think I've cleaned it since I moved in here about 10 years ago! It just never really occurred to me. My house was built in 1942, so it's been around a while. Anyway, I'm sittin' in the floor with some various dusting brushes (read old dish scrubber/toothbrush...yes I've very anal about my cleaning), a rag, some roach spray (just in case, since I seem to have an assortment) and various other stuff. Nothing too extreme. Mostly dustbunnies the size of tumbleweeds, little pieces of sheet rock, a stray bobby pin, cobwebs. Then I looked up and saw (see photos) some weirdo-looking half-attic entrance opening and the shitball job someone did in making holes for the various pipes coming off the water heater. Lovely. It looks like someone literally just punched holes through the sheet rock. Fuckin' retards.

There was a random stick in the closet (looks like an old broom handle...there seem to be a lot of those around here. I dunno why.), so I took it and poked it into the darkness of what looked to have once been the attic entrance (there's one with stairs that pulls down in the garage, as well). When I did I hit something, 'cause I distinctly heard the first 3 faint...slow notes of Pop Goes the Weasel. You know, like those old jack-in-the-boxes that you used to crank the handle on. Maybe I poked something that contained a music box? I dunno. And yes, I know you're wondering how I know that they were the first 3 notes of Pop Goes the Weasel.. Well, out of the blue, last month I decided to change my cell phone ring and I just randomly decided on Pop Goes the Weasel.. Coinki dink, huh? So, while I was standing there, still holding the stick in my hand, something knocks it out of my hand, the stick pulls up, then clatters to the floor! Okay...I'm lying. But wouldn't that've been creepy!? I told my friend that and instead of being creeped out (I was so disappointed) she goes directly to "eBay treasures!" Sigh. I'd never make it as a horror writer.

Anyhoo, I'll keep you posted on my rat-tacular exploits. In the meantime, I'll be cleaning No Man's Land. Wish me luck.