Vermin

 

July 15, 2022

William Byrd on Pandora.

Tumultuous day just passed. Vermin inspector arrived in the afternoon. I wondered why the guys who have to crawl around in tight attics and crawl spaces are always, in my experience, huge. Good looking man, though, who must have been stunning in youth. When I warned that the bb gun on the stairs was not a real gun and just there in case of a confrontation with a ‘coon, I received a lengthy oration on how guns are necessary, yea virtuous, nowadays. One nods and appears to be in agreement. He crawled his crawl in the attic and discovered that–besides the gash in the roof–there seemed to be no damage– insulation unsullied, floors not urinated upon, rafters not gnawed. The bade me regard the smell of my attic, which is sweet and woody. He said it would be sharp and foul if ‘coons had actually lived there. Nobody there then, anyhow. Our inspection also told me that no animal could survive the heat of that space in summer daylight. Went down to the basement, where the actual inroads had happened, claw marks in mud, displaced plastic, the bear-torn windows open (periodically, when I have not been watchful) to the air. He gave me an estimate for fixing everything, sealing the windows and vents and installing a de-humidifier. As I had no idea what to do about any of it, I agreed. Tightness lifted off my chest. He says I have no signs of termites or mold or anything but the tree-bandit, the least of scourges.  His company was founded by a preacher whose church couldn’t afford termite treatment, and so he learned how to do it himself. 

Letters from Chancellor Cable and Governor Cooper thanking me for The Ones with Difficult Names.