Partners' harmony requires rising above squeamishness: Just. Do. It.

We watched the NBC news show Meet the Press on Sunday, which included an interview with President Volodymyr Zelensky. Throughout the questions put to him, he was continually in the position of having to characterize his relationship with the current president of the United States. Zelensky chose his words carefully. Underneath every one, I sensed both his deep regret the alliance is not stronger and more consistent, and his disdain/pain/disgust that this is how it is these days. He has no choice. He must be diplomatic towards the world power while being loyal to, and proudly representative of, his country. Not an easy line to walk, but walk it Zelensky did — and does.

There is no war in our house, but there is, currently, a minor skirmish between us and tiny invaders.

It’s pitch black dark when I get up with the cat, then walk quietly with her to the kitchen where she gets food and I make tea, then I creep down the basement stairs and stand still, listening, listening for the noise of tiny feet scrabbling against the plastic trapping them hold. And then I hear it. Damn. This morning, two mice are trapped. I go back upstairs and kit up: toque, gloves, jacket, boots, then head back down to pick up the live traps, put them into a shoebox and carry them at arm’s length outside, down the block to the top of the river bank. I take each trap out of the shoebox, hold it down, pull up the release door and listen for the noise, this time a frantic darting through the leaves and plants to freedom.

I dislike this current morning ritual. We are taking measures. But for the moment, this is it. What I do first thing because I must.

I did not use to be the one doing this, but I have become inured out of necessity. Val now baits the traps, I set them out, and set the captured rodents free.

Our neighbours, too, have — or have had — mice. They THWACK kill the critters. I, too, might choose that method, but Val is firm: Let them live. Elsewhere. So I have learned to do what I would rather not; harmony between partners trumps my squeamishness. Any day. Every day. Each morning, I have gone out into the dark earlier, no longer waiting for the faint glimmer of light to ease my task. Now, I do it to get it over with. Just. Do. It. And I do.

Much in life is pleasant and fun. Some is not. This is that. Not pleasant or fun, but part of life these cooling autumn days.

I remind myself, I am not in Ukraine, Sudan, Gaza, Myanmar or Iran. I can do this. There is no blood on the floor — or on my hands. Any fear I feel is in my head not my heart. While I cannot change the world, I can do this in my world.

I dislike this current morning ritual. We are taking measures. But for the moment, this is it. What I do first thing because I must.

What do you do in your world you would rather not, but must, to keep peace in your house?

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation. 

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash