It being a Monday and me being short on inspiration in the rain, I thought I’d take the opportunity to provide a few follow-ups. I realise I’ve raised a few issues over the past month or so, and haven’t taken the time to share the outcomes, so here they are:
•You may remember the torturous search for pillows. Well, we finally bought some. And we got it wrong. They are too… lofty (see image). So they are relegated to the spare bed (note to visitors: bring your own pillows) and the search continues. Sigh.
•I am yet to come up with a name for the Dad character in my current novel. He remains Fred.
•Finally, the mouse saga continues. After the construction and shenanigans that ensued on the discovery of Mousies One and Two, The Builder got serious the following night, putting out two mousetraps and some bait. The door to the pantry was wedged shut. All manner of foodstuff was locked down. The hatches were battened.
Then we had to explain to the children what was going on. And why we had to shut all doors, internal and external, that night. And why they couldn’t go near the ‘poison’ near the cat mouse door. Mr8 nodded and went about his business. Mr5 went very quiet. Always a bad sign.
Just before bed, he came to us in tears. “What’s wrong?” we asked.
“Mousies have families too,” he wailed. “If the mousies don’t go home to their families the other mousies will worry.”
We exchanged looks over his head. “We’re just trying to, er, scare them away,” I said.
“Then why are you putting out poison? Poison won’t scare them, it will kill them,” he said. Lord save me from the logical child.
“Well,” said The Builder. “We have to keep them out of the house. They eat all our food and also spread germs. It’s them or us.”
“Can’t we just board up the cat door, then?” said Mr5. “Then they can’t get in.”
How to explain to a sad little boy that we need them gone? For good.
“We will just leave it open for one more night so that the other Mousie [still in the housie at this stage] can get out, then it will all be over,” said The Builder.
He seemed mollified by this, but went to bed still sad for the ‘mousie family’, out there waiting for their mousie loved one to come home.
And left me fretting at the notion of a whole CLAN of mousies, out there in the dark, plotting an assault on the pantry. Shudder.
The Builder has cut a piece of ply ready to board up the Mousie Door. The sooner the better I say.
What about you? Any updates you’d like to share – good, bad, covered in fur?