I actually got up early today. Not as early as I would have liked but I’m working up to it. Plus it’s so cold: -1 C. This old Victorian house isn’t built for this kind of weather. I had to put on a coat over my robe, and wrap a big shawl around my head. I huddled in the kitchen with my hands around a hot mug of coffee. Which then made writing a bit difficult.
It’s freezing. The radiators clang. The wind blows in through the cracks around the windows. Hamlet the hamster is trying to hibernate. The budgies are huddling together. The Test tube alien is flashing orange. Even the mice are walking around in long johns.
We had a real problem with mice last year. We were saving food for the Armegeddon a.k.a. bird flu. The radio waves were full of it so we decided to keep some water, cans of food and a big bag of rice in the cellar just in case.
How dumb can you get?
All the mice in the neighborhood arrived. It had obviously been posted on MySpace. They started walking around like they owned the place. We set traps. Well, my husband set traps. I squealed in the background. It was a killing field and yet they were still everywhere. They’d sit and watch me write, shaking their heads, commenting, You call that a sentence?
So finally we called in the professionals: an East London man and his son who put down sticky mats and poison. (The guy kept talking about all the fabulous holidays he’d been taking. I’m obviously in the wrong business.) After a very unpleasant encounter with a mouse on a sticky mat we threw the mats away. But the poison seemed to do the trick. We see a mouse occasionally but it has returned to scurrying. A proper hierarchy has been reestablished.