Meeses

Oh dear, another apology because I know you've all been dying for news of the mouse. It's just that Emily's been my best mate since we were nine and we couldn't quite squeeze a blog entry into her super-quick visit. But that doesn't mean we haven't been indefatigable in our quest for green-ness.

So, rodent update time. On Wednesday night, I set the Steve Smith Homemade Humane Moustrap (SSHHM) and went to bed. I was awakened around four by a crash which at first I took for the ghost we suspect is haunting the spare room, but then realized was actually the SSHHM tripping. Success!

So in the morning we set off to collect Em from the city with the SSHHM carefully arranged on my lap, weighted down with the River Cafe Cookbook to prevent in-vehicle escapes. We counted five miles on the odometer then selected a grassy field with a view of rolling hills. I got out of the car, set the trap down, lifted the lid, leapt backwards, and there, in the middle of the tray was....absolutely nothing! Aargh! I couldn't believe it. The SSHHM had malfunctioned.

Well, we had an extremely long day and by the time we finally got home I was in no mood for wrestling with the baking tray which refused to balance on the bamboo skewer, so in the end I gave up. That gave the mouse his chance and overnight, he nibbled his way through half a bag of flour (discovered spilled all over the floor) and the entire plastic lid of a tub of posh pancake mix in addition to most of it contents.

So last night, after trying to wrangle the tray onto the the skewer for half an hour, I made a minor modification to the design (a bit of tape round the skewer to provide traction), and went to bed.

This morning, the trap remained intact but a loaf of bread, which had been perched atop a set of old-fashioned scales on top of the 5.5ft fridge, did not. Somehow the mouse had waltzed right by the trap, scaled the sheer fridge wall, pulled the loaf and a 4lb weight off the scale and eaten almost the entire thing before disappearing.

At this point I think we may have to face facts: the mouse who got away must have taken his experience as a declaration of war and brought in reinforcements. Either that or he is in fact a squirrel.

Anyway, the husband says that's it, bollocks to humane traps, he's off to buy some old-school poison. I reminded him who it was that had let the mouse go in the first place, and begged him not to, but suspect he may have gone behind my back while Emily, Dot and I were out for a walk. So now I'm afraid it's a policy of don't ask, don't tell. I will continue with the SSHHM as long as evidence of mousey mates persists. But I'm afraid somebody in the house isn't 100% on board with the eco policy and I can tell you it isn't me...

Tomorrow: adventures in Diesel. It;s a good one, promise. xx