Happy to end the day as it's Friday. I have since revealed some further salient (aha) details about our sailing trip on Wednesday: Bobert spent most of it howling to go home because he didn't like it tilting and Johnny vomited over the side. Of course, I may be an unreliable witness, the photos certainly show Team Puddle to be all happy but what do I know. Not much.
So the builders have NOT finished but they have NEARLY finished, a fine artisans' distinction.
We can't use the shower but we can use the sink and toilet so we both christened the toilet immediately in the only way we know how.
Then we noticed the massive cardboard boxes strewn throughout the house. If the bathroom is finished ... the boxes must be empty. So we doubled the floorspace of the house by moving them all to the garage for the builders to take away next week. That's when we saw the mouse. We have had another perennial rodentiform visitor, it wanders the house eating up my discarded biscuit crumbs, living in the crochet wool or behind the fridge or the washing machine etc, and running away when we see it. We put down poison last night.
This time it ran behind the cutting and sticking, beads, felt tip pens and craft glue box which is in the corner. Thus by the simple expedient of kicking the box into the corner more firmly, we inflicted massive internal injuries to the uninvited visitor, who, stricken, convulsed hopelessly for a few seconds before giving up the ghost. I flushed it down the new toilet, where it rotated, retired, and refloated. We left it for Jof to find.
Sorry. The Pidgin English (Bislama) may be out-of-date nowadays, but was all the rage in the expat community in my 2nd-last reincarnation in 1950's Africa. If anything from the sky b'long Jesus, where does that leave the meteorite at the heart of the central islamic shrine at Mecca?
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