They've moved back in already and it's only mid-September...tramping about in the roof space with their hob-nailed boots on...
Himself gets a bit irate actually...he uses one of my walking sticks to prod the ceiling while I squeak because the ceiling might fall down if it's prodded too hard...then there's a deathly silence... before we hear the dear little souls scampering away...
It wasn't until I thought about it sensibly, that what I've always referred to as mouses are not mouses at all...I mean, you wouldn't hear little mouses running about now would you...they make a quick dash across the kitchen floor and one ate a pair of brand new pyjamas...but we don't hear them on the kitchen floor...just catch a glimpse out of the corner of an eye...didn't hear one eating the brand new pyjamas either...
Because you see the rodents in the hob-nailed boots who stamp about and gnaw things they ought not to gnaw are rats.
I wrote that really quickly so you might have missed it...
Germy rats who are said to carry every disease known to man which I daresay is a terrible exaggeration...great grey creatures with nasty hairless tails and long yellow teeth...
Don't mind sharing our cottage with dithery little Wood Lice who go round in circles becoming more and more bewildered...quite like the Silver Fish, who aren't fish, but an insect who eats wallpaper paste, so ours must be awful hungry seeing as we don't have any wallpaper...Himself had one living in the screen of his laptop for ages, before it finally expired...
Think the brain dead Crane Flies are a pain but Molly and Murphy eat them...long dangly legs hanging out of the sides of their mouths...they will blunder about so...crashing into the lights and falling on the floor where they try to rearrange their legs to become airborne again...foiled by a kitten with sharp eyes and teeth...
The moths are alright in small doses...they are mostly small and pretty enough, but have to confess to not much caring for the really big furry ones with eyes that sort of glow in the dark...
I have to admit a certain fondness for the mouses...I like their dainty paws and their whiskers...especially like their bright eyes...but I'm not allowed to like them for long...Himself sets traps baited with bits of chocolate and puts them everywhere and then I hear them going off in the night...the traps I mean... as they snap the poor little mouses and kill them stone dead... their mouths full of milk chocolate...
But I can't be doing with rats.
Himself goes into the roof space armed with a tub of deadly poison and a couple of big stout traps and Molly and Murphy gaze upward, their eyes like saucers.
Here I Am...Back Again!
