With clogs on

There’s no point in fussing about it, it’s just the way it is.  This is an old house and it’s impossible to seal off every part of it, and we get mice.  There are fields all around and there are mice and at this time of the year they start to look for somewhere warm and dry.

I woke up around 3 o’clock this morning and thought I might go back to sleep, but within minutes I felt quite distressed and it was better to sit up, put the light on and the kettle on and make tea and pull myself together.  Quite some time later, I thought I might manage to sleep again, but then I heard a mouse nibbling somewhere in the room.  I got out of bed and went where I thought I heard it, but then it seemed to be in another corner – when I went there it sounded as if it was somewhere else.  Very odd, I couldn’t work it out and, in the end, I put a programme on the radio to stop me listening for the mouse and I finally slept.

While I was still awake, I realised that I didn’t know where Russell stored the mousetraps.   I knew where a couple of old-fashioned ‘Little Nipper’ traps were, but I hate setting those.  So this morning, I took myself off to the ironmonger’s and bought six of my preferred traps, which are easy to set and empty.  I’ve distributed them around four bedrooms, baited with Nutella.  We shall see.

I put out the black bins, which was a bit knackering, lugging them down the drive, I made phone calls (don’t underestimate this, I used to have a sadly embarrassing phobia about the telephone), I spent most of the day on interviews and Roses and I had a Chinese takeaway together this evening.  Tomorrow evening, Ro and Dora are coming over and staying the night.  I must haul out that to-do list and see what I can tick off this week.

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