A Tale of Doom.

So, I have a rat problem. In the garage, to be precise. I knew that there were critters in the garage, but largely dismissed them to be spiders and the odd ghost. I’d seen the signs – the odd droppings. Not overly concerned. Then the scritching started coming from inside the bedroom wall one dark night at 1:30, to be precise.

That did it. The rats had to go.

Having spent several years in the central plains, the family was not new to dealing with little critters seeking port in a storm, but those were cute little field mice. I draw the line at rats.

About this time, I was gifted the wonderful manual: Household Discoveries and Mrs. Curtis’s Cook Book, c. 1909. I’ve decided that if I’m ever banished to the Yukon to homestead without internet access, this is the tome I want to take with me, for its scholarly depth and nauseating detail on every aspect of home, workshop, and garden management. Upon reflection, the book is entirely period appropriate for practical application in our 130 year old home…

Behold, the section on rats.

I encourage the reader to endure to the very end – ghosts indeed!

As much as I find the barrel intriguing, and the phosphoric mixture devilishly appealing (I can see The Boy wanting to try that one out), we went with the classic French wire trap. Five (5?!?) rats later, the scritching and scratching in the walls has ceased, and two whole nights have passed sans new victims.

More to come from Household Discoveries and Mrs. Curtis’s Cook Book.