Mum's place in the Residential Home has been confirmed - and it's brilliant. And . . . it won't cost a thing, courtesy of Surrey County Council, except they do take her pension and give her a bit of it back as pocket money. I'm typing this also courtesy of Surrey county Council, i.e. in Warlingham Library, because my computer is f*****. A young in-law decided that Uncle T should upgrade to Windows XP, and he's in the IT business. It doesn't work. Can't get on the Net or use the scanner or printer. Apparently you should put Windows XP in a clean hard drive and then transfer what you need from the old drive. A mate is going to do this and it's going to cost, partly because he too is in the business. Should be done in about a week.
[pen] Nearly all the food was in mouse-proof cupboards as it happens (i.e., high up off the floor, and with no obvious holes therein). There is a slightly worrying set of holes for the pipework in the cupboard under the sink. I can't cover these up easily, so I expect to find evidence of mouse in there... I intend to wash all the surfaces (and pans) before doing any cooking. As it happens, I think it would be difficult for a mouse to scale the units onto the worktops - but I wouldn't put anything past the bastards. Time to go home and see if the bait has been taken...
The bait's still there - and no poos as far as I can tell. But I think it's a bit soon to expect much yet. I imagine Jerry realises that this is not going to do him much good, and is probably biding his time until he's really hungry. As an aside, I'm quite surprised to discover such a huge range of products devoted to capture and extermination of mice. This I find reassuring and worrying by equal measure. On the one hand, it indicates the problem's a common one (and I feel less hideously unclean now). At the same time, though, it also suggests that few of these treatments actually work. I'll keep you informed.
As a further aside, I'm also amused that even the most painful-looking traps have pictures of cute fluffy little creatures with big eyes and nice round ears on them. It's rather like putting a cartoon pig on the outside of a packet of bacon.
[chalky] could you stop calling me poppet? you're reminding me too much of my mum, who has a habit of calling me poppet, despite me clearing six foot.
Work has destroyed my brain to such an extent that last night I dreamt about trying to print a cheque and products sounding like the animal they were designed for, and I keep on thinking I hear the tannoy go 'ping pong', and I freeze in anticipation of "Staff call, 'Nights', contact 257, 'Nights', 257, thank you", implying I've forgotten what time it is, I'm still in the canteen having a smoke and I was meant to be on the shop floor about ten minutes ago. argh, eh?