Wow, me, time and the mouse in the house.

There are no planes in the sky.  Used to watch them stack over Heathrow and could count about eight at a time.  Nothing now … and yes, we are in lockdown, and yes, the world as is being held at ransom by a deadly foe.  The tourism industry is all but evaporated for now, and we are thinking, will we ever travel again?

I live in hope. The novelty of travelling within my house is all but stale, all intentions scuppered for not being able to get paint, or plants, or anything to actually do some re-decoration and gardening.  Tried to sneak some Rose food into the trolley yesterday, on my first supermarket visit in over a week, and no, it is not an essential item and was promptly scooped out.  I get it, but how are we supposed to have any kind of house quarantine when I have so few tools to get to those odd jobs?

The second spring clean of the week.  Living in Africa, albeit in a lovely Estate for this time in isolation, I have been leaving all the doors wide open to capture as much fresh air and sunlight while the warmer climes linger.  Setting the background so to speak …

Imagine the sheer horror of seeing this mouse scamper down the passage and into one of the bedrooms.  This is (apart from a snake and those hideous rain spiders) one of my worst fears.  This is one of those times I do curse being on my own with no-one to send into battle.  Hastily shut the door lest it decide to do another tour of the house, and after (to return)I stopped screaming, and cursing no end, it was time to formulate a plan.  Fortunately the bedroom also had a door onto the garden, so, standing on the desk, managed to open the door, whilst Wilbur raced around the room … and under the desk.

Tried pleading for him to just saunter outside, his natural habitat … for goodness sake, just be gone from here, you cursed little piece of …  Brooms, bucket and baking pan at the ready, still on the desk, the one woman band of banging on baking tin, prodding behind the desk and actually thinking I was going to trap him under the bucket (although I had no idea what to do next if that happened) took to yelling and stomping on said desk – and at last he shimmied his way outside.  So I thought.

The moment I tried to lock the door, still atop the desk, Wilbur had a moment and promptly left the sanctuary of the flower bed to do a U turn and straight back into the room, this time under the bed.  I could have platzed right there and lost any last shred of humanitarian instincts to save him, thinking only of ridding myself of this invasion. Let it be said that there was a struggle and much more dancing, shrieking as he ran through my legs (me now trying to get him from out under the bed) before he decided to leave, and sit beneath the rosemary bush.  Door shut, every window promptly shut, every living space available for another visit, bolted down, but he had to go … all the way out of my property, which I eventually achieved with a strong water hosing until he decided to up his newly adopted turf.

Will admit, at some point when I had him cornered, I swear I could see his little heart racing with fear.  It equalled my own.

I pray he doesn’t come back.  I am having more than the usual wine this evening to calm the nerves and face sleep with visions of his entire family coming to visit.  All the trying not to kill the ants in my grass and saving wildlife is dissipating fast with this encounter. Still, it made for a few hours of excruciating time lapse in these long, long, long, long days of isolation.

We are half way and let the gods not decide to extend this for surely many shall be going, justifiably, insane.  All for our own good I know, it’s just rather difficult explaining to the authorities, that me and a mouse in the house, is a volatile situation which may require the ban on alcohol to be lifted for desperate times.

At best I have never been a good girl guide, or a happy camper going into the bush to sleep in dirt and have moving things crawl into my pants.

This lockdown in my own house is about the most rustic form of camping I ever want to do – and I get a mouse to add to the ambiance ugh!  Someone I know is laughing at me now …