Sunday, August 2, 2009

Good news, for some.

He's gone. I'm relieved.

Went to the hardware shop yesterday, and my very knowledgeable hardware guy sold me a heavy-duty sensitive trap that he assured me would work.

It worked, and while I hate killing anything, the relief is everwhelming. I've gone from "bright red" alert re droppings and movements to kind of "russet/amber".

Now, what I can't figure out is how I got to this state. When I was a student, all our flats had mice, many many mice. In one place, they used to peep out at us from the Aeroboard ceiling while we ate our breakfast, presumably getting a preview of that day's menu, to be sampled as soon as we went off to our lectures.

In another flat, I clearly remember my mother coming to stay overnight, and giving her my bed. She was shocked that I'd sleep on the floor, knowing that lots of mice were rampaging around. It didn't bother me in the least.

So how is it that now I am, as eldest daughter puts it, "completely paranoid about rodents". Answer: "I don't know." I just have the horrors at them being in my house, and all that goes with that. I visualise the situation getting completely out of control, and them being everywhere. And with teenagers around, it's impossible to keep track of "no food in bedrooms" issues. So I'm really hoping that it's a final goodbye to this issue, and that future chocolate posts will be more upbeat.

On a brighter note, son has returned from the summer writing camp. 12 noon on Friday was the deadline for picking him up, but I texted first, not wanting to arrive too early or too late.

Me: "What time would you like me to collect you tomorrow?"

Him: "Twelve?"

Me: "I'll be there between 11.30 and 12. I'll text when I arrive"


Minimalist or what! I had a quick meeting with the course teachers, who assure me that he had a ball, and that his imitation of Shakespeare had everyone doubled in two. Now I know what I've been missing.
It's good to have him back.

1 comment:

  1. Hurrah! You've conquered the wee beastie! I understand your paranoia. It's dislike , for me, not fear. And, perhaps, you were only oblivious in those student days because you weren't a home owner nor did you have kids to keep clean and safe. It makes all the difference.
    An imitation of Shakespeare? You've got my attention.