More fauna

MORE VERMIN IN OUR HOUSE !!!

• two Sundays ago, a squirrel;
• Friday night, another mouse;
• then a mouse at 3:00 the next morning (lying in bed, I heard Martin & Mary hunting it);
• then, at dawn, another mouse.

Without much difficulty, we shooed or carried all those vermin out of the house. So far, we haven’t committed any violence against them. It was suggested that we drown one of those mice, but I protested; then Martin was going to squash it, but before he could, it ran away.

UPDATE, TUESDAY: We’ve found more mice. They’ve been getting into the house through a hole in the cellar. Martin has killed three of them, with traps.

UPDATE, WEDNESDAY: This afternoon, Martin took me down to the cellar to look at the day’s catch. He’d been experimenting with different kinds of traps. Today only one mouse was caught, but now Martin knows better which traps to use and how to use them.

And what has Bianca been doing about the vermin? Nothing much.

(Photo by Edoarda)

Tonight we’re going to eat at Hacienda, for Martin’s sake. None of us, except for Martin, really likes Hacienda.

I just turned thirty-three. I feel very wise … and humble.

And calm.

These days, what do I blog about? Domestic bliss.

Germany, Peru, Argentina

Katrina, my old friend, kindly writes:

When are you gonna post something about [the] Ecuador vs. Peru game? Will you post anything about [the] Ecuador vs. Argentina game? I always look to YOUR blog for informed commentary =)

This hurts to think about. Even so:

What afflicts us is temperamental immoderation: extreme cockiness, extreme pessimism. We really do think we can outplay anyone. And yet we can’t help but throw our games away.

For Ecuadorians this is old news:

We’re ranked 10th in the world, the highest we’ve ever been. We deserve it. Licking our chops, we schedule a “test” match in Florida against Germany, No. 2 in the world.

On the eve of this match we broadcast one of our team showers (PG-13). Very cocky.

During the match, on the first play, Gabriel Achilier tries to dribble around Lukas Podolski — very cocky! — and gets his pocket picked: nine seconds in, we’re down 0 to 1. Soon, it’s 0 to 4, thanks to more errors by Achilier and other demoralized defenders.

Around minute 30, we wake up and decide to pin the Germans in their own box; we do this for the rest of the game. It’s clear that Joachim Löw, the German coach, is suffering. Still, the German players are good, and so we manage just two goals against them. What we gain from this “test” is the feeling that even though we can dominate anyone, we’re still prone to losing through sheer carelessness.

This feeling persists into the Peru qualifier. In Lima, we’re a bundle of nerves. Once again we concede an early goal. Then the Peruvians pack their own box for the rest of the game. From watching the Germans, they’ve learned to try to score quickly and then concentrate on defending.

And so ends our unbeaten streak against Peru in tournaments. Our previous defeat was in 1977.

Next, in Quito, it’s Argentina, No. 3 in the world. By this time we’re nervous as hell. Right away we give up a silly penalty, and it’s 0 to 1. Another hill to climb.

We assault them with everything. The Argentinians are punch-drunk. At minute 16, it’s 1 to 1.

Not only are the Argentinians desperate, we’re dribbling past them at will. And this is when we regain our cockiness. Our play is downright disrespectful. Never have we been so dominant against anyone so good. Again and again, the Argentinians can do nothing but kick the ball out of bounds. We earn twenty-two corner kicks. TWENTY-TWO. Oh, it’s breathtaking … but it’s ineffective. The game ends, a stalemate.

This is our soccer team; this is our nation; this is John-Paul. Humility, that delicate balance, is so difficult to achieve.