So, we’re basically all moved in. Sure, there are still a few piles of stuff on the floor, but that’s mostly because we have no furniture. Who would have thought that things like bed side tables, bookshelves, and a lamp would be useful items? We don’t have internet yet, and as such I am posting from an internet café. I miss you.
I thought I’d tell you about the first week of living with Inspector Climate, who despite being seemingly incapable of hanging wet things up on racks, is a pleasure to live with.
As we first started to move in all our boxes last Saturday, we kept all the doors open because our new apartment smelled a bit musty, occasionally verging on rank. We traced the smell back to under the sink where we thought since maybe the pipes hadn’t been used in a while the odour was probably emanating from there. Or we joked possible a dead animal. Ha ha.
Exhausted from a full day of packing and moving, Inspector Climate and I went to bed in desperate need of a good night sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, Inspector Climate started talking in his sleep. I’ve gotten pretty good at saying what he wants to hear and making him go back to bed. But he was persistent this time. “D, there is a mouse ON the bed”
“No there isn’t, I promise” I said, as I rolled over to go back to sleep.
“D, seriously, I can’t believe you can’t see it, there is a MOUSE on the bed…can’t you see it. D, there is a mouse on the bed.”
So I sat up getting genuinely alarmed because, hello, I am half asleep too! “can you see it, it’s sitting right next to me!” he said.
“No, I can’t see it.”
Inspector Climate started getting a bit panicked, “It’s sitting right there! I can’t believe you can’t see it! It’s right there!” there was a small pause and then he started shaking his head, “You’re the mouse….You’re the mouse.” He sank back on to the pillows and fell back to sleep.
The next morning, the smell was still persisting, but we had lot of unpacking to do, an Ikea couch to build and stuff to sort. So much stuff. That night, when I came back from yoga, there was a long pole with a fork taped to the end of it and Inspector Climate waiting impatiently by the door. He had found the source of the smell, and I am sure you can see where this was going. Under our stove, Inspector Climate – the natural detective that he is – collected clues using a flashlight and his keen problem solving skills. There was a smell. There was mouse poop under the stove. There was a dead mouse. A dead mouse being eaten by maggots that Inspector climate dragged out by the tail (the mouse, the maggots got away!) with a fork.
Inspector Climate insists that his dream of mice on the bed was a premonition of what was to come. And that’s pretty hard to argue with.
The next night, we decided to test out our new washing machine after it ran for what seemed an excruciatingly long time and then finished with a loud DING. I looked in, thought everything looked pretty wet still, but opened the door anyway only to have water slosh out flooding our kitchen (first of all, who puts the washing machine in the kitchen?). This is when we found out our front loading washing machine, couldn’t drain.
So there we were, using Inspector Climate’s seriously impractical heart shaped bucket and two Tupperware containers to try and catch water as we quickly open and shut the washing machine door to get the water out. Our clothes, sopping wet even after we tried to wring them a even the slightest bit dry, have been sitting on the drying rack getting moldy because Australia has yet to figure out how to insulate buildings so as to keep them moderately warm in winter and moderately cool in summer.
Welcome to your new home?