Of mice and men
There is something dead in my house. It smells and I can't find it. Yesterday, three large black flies starting doing a dance around the table lamp. The cats are going crazy, chasing after fly shadows and strangely attracted to one of the living room walls. I think there might be a dead mouse inside it, rotting away. But Mr Grigg says this is not possible as the walls are several feet thick. However, I read once that mice can get in the smallest of bloody holes. So who knows? And we do have the Little Nipper up in the attic, just above the living room wall, which is catching a mouse a day. Maybe the smell emanates from the one that got away, or at least thought it did. Before the poison set in. As long as the bloody rats aren't back, that's all I care about. Working at the Death Star today, I took my rather fetching purple Hawkshead cardigan off. I discovered the jumper I had on underneath was inside out. I slipped off to the loo to change. Don't know why, but I told a ...