The server hosting my personal email and website seems to have dropped off the internet. We're investigating, but this could mean that if you've tried to email me in the last day or so, the mail might either take a day or two to get through, or get lost completely.
*starts spreadsheet programme to print out location of every clock in the household, including name rank and serial number, and containing instructions on how to change each come Saturday evening* For me this involves cranking them all forward by 23 hours. Yuk. I might, just might, have one with a plus/minus one hour switch (and if I do, I bet I didn't use it last time).
Just thinking about that. I have six clocks in my workshop. Three normal clocks (one small one on each bench and one wall clock) plus one on a digital thermometer and two on telephones. The house has seven normal clocks, two video cassette recorders (the DVD player doesn't have one), three clock radio units, one microwave oven, one on a digital thermometer and an inderminate number of watches - probably only three. I bet I've forgotten one or two as those are from memory. The computers are set to automatically adjust. That's over twenty adjustments to make. Eek!
[rab] He will have eaten a load of your food AND done a poo. Make sure you keep all your food sealed away until you know you've got rid of him & all his friends. And wash everything down really well too.
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?
[Rosie] I hypothesise that you won't see this for a bit but I'll post it anyway. Fantastic news, it really is. The pension/pocket money is a regular thing here but it might be wise to keep a bit of an eye on what she gets. There has been a number of 'shonky' operators of such establishments in this country. Still, if it's a council operated facility then, perhaps, you might not need to worry too much. I mention the last because my mother-in-law, who had a stroke, was confined to a so called 'nursing home' within the precincts of her local hospital. It was truly dreadful. Not the staff - at least not overall - but the facilites and the surroundings. I have the feeling that the only time she could get outside for a bit of sun and fresh air was when my wife or her sister (or me for that matter) visited. [Chalky] Eee 'eck tha dun arf wurry me times.
[rab] The only way I find works well is those wooden snappy traps baited with bread and cheddar cheese rolled into a small ball. Poison may work but although I've found it eaten, I've never found a dead mouse to confirm. Alternatively try this.
[Boolbar] Pshaw. What are they talking about? Intelligent children like me did play it properly. About four times. We even knew the rule that if (A) triggered (O) directly, the mouse automatically escaped!
[rab] If you haven't already disposed of the beastie. Do you wish to kill the thing or catch it alive and release it somewhere other than your kitchen rather than zap the poor wee thing and have it die a lingering death with a broken back or neck? If so, I have used a wonderful device which works rather well. It's a commercial trap, quite cheap, which is formed from a square section of tubing, one end sealed the other with a spring loaded door. It is also bent. Bait (in my case a dob of peanut butter!) down the sealed end. Place on floor/shelf/whatever with door latched open beneath the device. Mouse wanders in and heads for the other end. Weight of mouse combined with gravity causes the 'far end' to rock back to level - it's the bent end which is elevated. Front end then rises - obviously - and allows the door to snap shut. Viola! one contained mouse. All that remains is to release the thing in an enviroment of your choosing.
update on the expedition home - the M5 was hideous, so we thought we'd try a different route, got hideously lost in Gloucestershire and ended up at home about when I thought. but at least I'm here, eating food prepared by someone else and spending good working time playing silly forum-based games. and I can do my laundry, thank you very much. I'm one of a very rare breed of students that know what a washing machine is and how it works.
Just make sure that you set them free a good distance from your home, as they tend to make their way back.. at least a couple of miles, in a nice park or field somewhere..
I'm sorry I have to say this, because you're all obviously well-meaning - but don't you think that it's cruel to set a HOUSE MOUSE free in a park or field? House mice and field mice are two different animals. One lives in a field or park, the other lives in houses and barns. If you have House Mice, and don't want a re-infestation then just kill it quickly and mercifully, but fer gawd's sake don't set it free in a place that is so different to it's natural habitat... that's ridiculous. *mutters* Animal rights my arse
And don't forget those fluffy little creatures with the big eyes and the cute ears that come into your kitchen and scamper around playfully also PISS and SHIT everywhere. Yum.
[penelope] Not a natural environment? Are you telling me that the 'house' mouse was suddenly created when the first house was built? I must do some research to fill up the gap in my education. Whilst, at this time, I agree that there are various varieties of the mouse I also believe they are wild creatures and can survive quite happily outside my home. As exhibit number one (well, there is only one): As a teenager I used to breed mice - the cute little white ones - and flog 'em off to provide me with pocket money. Regrettably the wonderful cage which I had custom built to house them and which was designed to fit nicely on my windowsill (my mother refused to let me keep them inside) developed a malfunction and finished eight feet down on the back lawn with the doors sprung. Within weeks mice found in the back garden were piebald.
[Inkspot] On the assumption that Celebdaq is effectively dead and on the understanding that you cannot kill it until each participant has effectively run the ropes to the quay I have removed myself from the crew. Thanks for your time and effort over its lifetime.
[Dujon] OK, then my advice (and always had been, truth to tell) is to slam them all on the head with a garden spade. Smash their little brains out. I was trying to phrase it delicately for the sake of the animal lovers who might read this, but phooey... sod 'em.
[pen]I don't do that myself, but if someone is going to the trouble of a live-capture trap, I figured they wouldn't then want to send the mouse to its maker. Personally, I get my Jack Russell to worry them. Very quick death, although he growls when I don't let him chew on the body. Mouse guts everywhere? No thanks. AND I'm a vegetarian. But my dog isn't.
Look you lot - all this killing stuff is making me feel a bit queasy. In fact it's completely put me off the crispy fried mice ready meal I was about to microwave for my lunch ..