It Came From the Kitchen!

There was a smell that had been bothering me. It smelled of death. I had become obsessed with finding the smell and eradicating my kitchen of it. Maybe some people are OK with there kitchen smelling of death, but not me. No, no, no.

I figured I'd better get into the Lazy Susan cabinet. The opening is about 9 inches wide and has two turn table-style shelves inside. One major flaw in this design: It's 9 inches wide.

One more major flaw: The bottom shelf may not be lifted up or moved in any way. I took a small battery powered lantern and placed it inside. I then took a Static Duster (yes, the one on TV) with an extendable arm and dragged it along the inside walls, to the corner, then toward the front.

I actually seriously considered getting one of my small nieces over. I'd turn 'em sideways and shove 'em in there to sweep the floor of the cabinet. However, it wouldn't be possible with the immovable shelving. Although....
Hey, I got $20.... Wanna clean the kitchen from top to bottom? I'll even pull out the stove for ya! Nah, the cleanser fumes won't make a 6 year old sick! It puts hair on your chest and builds character!

It took me an hour to get to everything. Everything? You might be wondering what "everything" is. So was I. Until I slowly, little by little was finally able to drag everything to the floor.

Rat poo. Lots and lots of rat poo.
A measuring cup from 1983.
An empty wrapper of rodent poison from 1976.
A roach disc from 19.... When did they start making those things?

By the time I was finally able to drown the cabinet in Pine-Sol, I was just about sick. I was at the point in my day where it wouldn't have taken much to throw up and I wished I could because I knew it would make me feel a lot better.

I was hoping to find something dead. The traps haven't been touched. It's gotta be dead somewhere in the house. Or under it.

On the other hand, I heard some odd scratching noises over my head in the kitchen this past Monday. It was close. In the crawl space known as the Attic. It's not really an attic, just a space about one foot high in which a highly skilled husband might be able to poke around with a flashlight.

"I'll stick some poison up there," the Highly Skilled Husband said. He never did. And I can't reach the opening in the garage ceiling even with a ladder. I hate being so short. I also hate not knowing what's in the attic. Squirrel? Cat? Rat?

The Smell of Death in the kitchen can no longer be noticed because it has been replaced with odors of Vomit on a Plate.

Empty cans of kitten food line the bottom of our trash and if it weren't so dang cold, the garbage would be taken out every few hours. Mmmm, can't get enough of that Vomit on a Plate smell that canned pet food gives off.

Well, at least for the time being, it's better than the smell of dead things and rat poo. And that's an improvement for now.