To update those of you who think I’m dead, I’m not. I’ve just not bothered writing any new entries.
We found a mouse this evening. Sitting down, finishing up dinner, a small brown fluffy thing was spotted scuttling across the living room floor. It was instantly named Bernie and so started a 2-hour drama of trying to catch the mouse. We (actually, I like to take the credit) nearly succeeded. After some of the more masculine members of this household had gone through the “standing on a chair screaming” routine, and after some comical moments involving apricot cheese, I managed to corner it, somewhere behind my bass case. After removing said case, Bernie looked a bit startled, and then did nothing. This surprised me, having expected Bernie to run.
Taking this opportunity of immobility on Bernie’s part, a barricade was built consisting of a shirt box, and a large ring binder. It was a perfect cage.
Except we forgot that mice can climb. Bernie finally decided he (she?) could move and had a wonder round the new enclosure, before deciding to just climb out of it and run away. He was never seen again. We searched long and hard, but eventually concluded that he must have vanished down one of the 30,000 holes that exist in our floorboards.
After that, life returned to normal, and I did the washing up.
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