In other house mouse (unauthorized) news, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunnyhugger caught one after I'd gone to bed Wednesday, but in trying to use a marker to mark his tail lost the deer mouse altogether. It'd be nice to know if we're reducing the number of mice in the house or if they're just coming right back in.
Thursday night I caught a deer mouse --- well, the trap did all the work --- and brought them to the garage where they're welcome to stay. But I failed to check whether this was male or female so we can't say whether this was definitely a different mouse. They were certainly young, though, maybe two-thirds the size of the we-assume mother. Sunday night bunnyhugger caught another. Last night she discovered she had failed to set up one of the traps properly, but a mouse had got in and eaten the peanut butter bait, so there's at least one more here. More on this as it comes to pass.
Apparently a deer mouse can have a litter up to eight, with four most common. So while it's possible we've cleared out the unauthorized mice odds are there's up to two more, with a third or fourth as a possibility not to be ruled out.
Let's now take in a bit more Idlewild.
Here's a sign explaining some of the history of the carousel, which first comes to the historical record in Atlantic City. (The Historical Marker Database has a transcription if that's easier for you.)
Some of the panel art on the inside, with what sure seem like local artists who'd done kids on a wagon or huh, a man holding a long black stick while two dogs look on. Wonder what that's all about.
And o ho, what's this? People bearing walking drums?
Yup, we got there in time for a performing band, which we've been seeing more of at amusement parks lately and enjoy every time.
And hey, a place for my cousins to play! Also a raccoon face that's definitely not an icon to haunt your dreams! Unfortunately Raccoon Lagoon has mostly got kiddie rides too small for us.
But I did want to show you this drinking fountain, from back in the days they made these things with stone and figured there's never going to be a need to replace the pipes.
Trivia: Charles K Harris, a self-taught banjo player from Wisconsin, began in the 1880s to sell ``songs written to order''; in 1892 his waltz ``After The Ball'' became a massive hit, selling 400,000 copies of the sheet music and earning $25,000 per week by year's end. Source: With Amusement For All: A History of American Popular Culture Since 1830, LeRoy Ashby. Apparently Harris --- one of the first people to make a fortune selling popular music --- couldn't write music, but knew how to hire assistants who did.
Currently Reading: Michigan History, September/October 2025, Editor Kristen Brennan.
