The Rural Voice, 2001-06, Page 8MORRIS SACHS
SILO
CONSTRUCTION
SILO ACCESSORIES
SILOS DISMANTLED,
REBUILT AND REPAIRS
R.R. #1
Elmwood, Ont.
363-3900 NOG 1 SO
PARTS & EQUIPMENT - NEW & USED
R R #2. Teeswater.
Ontario NOG 2S0
TEESWATER
ACRO PARTS
Phone 519-392-6111
Fax 519-392-8099
TRACTORS
IH 624 new paint $4,000.
White 1470 new paint & tires, exc57.500.
MMG 1000 53,500.
MM Jet Star w/loader 53,500.
DB 880 w/p.s. 53,500.
Belaris 520A 4 WD, w/loader 56,500.
Oliver 88 standard (mint) 53,500.
JD 2120 wlloader 59,500.
Cockshutt 1850 gas 54,000.
DB 1200 54,500.
MISCELLANEOUS
New Greenline post hole auger 5900.
Continental post hole auger $450.
NI 5109 haybine $6,000.
New Holland 252 mixmill 52,000.
New Holland mower $250.
Owattana haybine $750.
New Douglas 6' finishing mower.. $1,775.
Walco whistler rotary mower 5970.
MF 124 baler w/thrower $1,000.
IH 440 baler w/thrower $1,000.
Duck Enterprises dump trailer$2,300.
WRECKING
Many makes of haybines, harvesters,
swathers, forage racks, balers
& Case IH 8575 big square baler.
JUST IN:
JD 6400, 7400, 8200, 8400 all w/4 WD
Styre 8160
Wanted tractors & equipment for salvage and resale
4 THE RURAL VOICE
Guest Column
Of man and mouse
By Carol Riemer
Country life. rewarding and
satisfying as it can be, is often full of
challenge. Sometimes. it's the mud
that threatens to swallow up the car.
Sometimes. it's the wind. that's
strong enough to
carry you into the
next county, the
well that almost
ran dry or the
dying howl of an
aging water
pump. Most
things I take in
my stride. but
mice are a
different story.
At first, I'm
convinced it's
just one little
critter. Others
follow and
soon, a symphony of scratching,
telltale droppings and sudden
scurrying noises leave little doubt
that' we've been invaded. Secretly, I
suspect that ridding our once peaceful
home of these crafty critters will
require certain flair for the chase,
along with a dogged determination to
outwit even the sharpest rodent mind.
Careful detective work reveals
that the mice have found a secret
tunnel into the house. My husband
and I check the foundation, inside
and out.
Unfortunately, in a 125 -year-old
stone building, the mice have us at a
distinct disadvantage. They've been
here longer. Even the cracks and
holes have been here longer. We do
our best to contain the invasion, but,
after all, these are old schoolhouse
mice, learned at larceny and practiced
in pilferage. We consider adopting a
ferocious feline to dispense with the
problem, but my husband's allergy to
cat hair quickly quashes the idea.
As I retreat to a state of total
denial, my usually tolerant husband
prepares for war. Judging by the look
on his face, every mouse within a
country mile should be warned that
he is taking no prisoners. All
afternoon, he goes about placing traps
in the mud room, the attic and the
cellar, whistling in happy expectation
of a mouseless house, come morning.
But. this is not to be. Mice are no
fools. Obviously, they have
developed survival skills that
preclude taking that one giant
suicidal leap for mankind.
My husband's eyes narrow.
Something in the deep recesses of his
psyche tells him that this is shaping
up to be the mother of all battles.
With a glint in his eye and a fresh
supply of rat bait laced with peanut
butter. he assures me that once the
little blighters get a whiff of this
stuff. they'll finally succumb to the
ultimate fatal attraction.
Days go by. I start to realize that
praise is essential if I expect my
spouse to engage in man -to -mouse
warfare. Having suffered humiliating
defeat in previous encounters with
these revolting rodents, he will need
all the support his wife and children
can muster. After all, a man needs to
know his family is behind him. And
that's exactly where we stay, several
feet behind.
All is quiet on the home front,
when suddenly, there's a click and a
rattle from the kitchen. Finding a
small, gray mouse caught in a trap, I
turn to look at my husband. He grins.
With little in common, other than a
protrusion of whiskers and that
steely -eyed look, only seen when
caught rummaging through the
kitchen cupboard, both man and
mouse remain ancient adversaries,
locked in a timeless battle for
territory. All night long, my
husband engages in strategy sessions,
researching rodent psychology and
delving deep into the methods of
surprise and attack. Dauntless in his
pursuit of these vexing vermin, he is
consumed with determination.
I, on the other hand, am content to
safely sit back and contemplate the
age-old challenge between man and
mouse; neither of whom I fully
understand, but nevertheless, tend to
sympathize with, from time to time.0
Carol Reimer lives near Grand
Valley, Ontario.