Daisy, one of our mice, has not been well of late and The Zozo has been fearing the worst for a couple of days now. At some point during the day yesterday she died. Arrangements for the cremation will be made later. Please send donations to our house fund in lieu of flowers.
With the departure of Daisy we have only 3 mice remaining: Pinky, Buttons and Princess. Pinky is the last survivor of the original 4 mice, which is surprising as we’ve been worried about her since before The Brain died. She’s obviously a fighter.
While we don’t really own much in the way of outdoor space we do have a spot where the bin store and pterodactyl table live. This is up against a wall which has ivy growing over it from the other side and some sort of shrub getting buried under the ivy on our side. Every so often I cut the ivy and shrub back a bit. Not much, just enough so the ivy is not encroaching on the bin store and the shrub isn’t encroaching on the path.
This weekend I decided to give everything a proper trim. The new bin store is bigger than the old one so I cut the ivy back harder. I also cut it back along the entire length of our part of the wall, not just over the bin store. This revealed rather a lot of the shrub which was either dead, or just devoid of leaves due to being smothered by ivy. Problem was if I cut those out I also took out the few branches that had leaves. In the end I pruned it right back to the main branches and about 2 foot off the floor. I figure it’ll either sprout new green growth and be nice and shrublike again, or it will die and we can put something else there.
By the time I had finished I had 7 bags of trimmings and had created a new space… and discovered a gate. There obviously used to be access from the plot on the other side of the wall, although the ivy that side would prevent anyone getting through these days. It would be great to think there was some kind of forgotten garden on the other side of the gate, but there isn’t. We can see what’s on the other side from our bedroom window, and currently it’s rubble while they build new flats.
Ever since The Brain died I’ve been worried about pinky. Of the 5 remaining mice she’s the smallest by far and she always looks like she’s on her last legs. According to Wikipedia fancy mice live for 18-30 months in captivity. According to The Zozo (a much more accurate source of information with things like this) and anything past 18 months is bonus time. We’re well into bonus time and our little mice are now old ladies. In order to get closer to 30 months than 18 months Pinky often gets special treats and hand feeding on The Zozos lap.
The mice holiday at the Zoo when we’re not at home for any length of time and last week was no different. Being at the zoo means they’re under the watchful eye of at least two keepers every day and ensures they’ll be properly looked after. This time we left the mice with instructions that they were old mice now and if any of them, especially Pinky, didn’t see the week through we’d understand. After all, it’s horrible to have a pet you’re looking after die on you.
Thankfully for the keepers, and happily for us, all 5 mice were alive on our return however, sadly, not all of them were well. This time it wasn’t pinky, who’d received special attention all week and was looking bigger than she had in months. No, it was Mrs Jingles had become ill and, on Saturday, The Zozo texted me to bring some special medicine for her. 10 minutes later Mrs Jingles died. The Zozo suspects kidney failure and I like to think Mrs Jingles held out to say goodbye to her mum.
Unlike The Brain, who was unceremoniously dumped in the bin, Mrs Jingles was put on ice. Yesterday The Zozo and I said our goodbyes and Mrs Jingles was cremated. I worry that the coming months will feature 4 more burials.
R.I.P. Mrs Jingles.
Bootnote: For those who were unaware, Mrs Jingles is named after Mr Jingles, the mouse from The Green Mile. We had hoped, a little optimistically I know, that Mrs Jingles would somehow be like her namesake and live to a ripe old age. If you haven’t seen The Green Mile go rent it now. You’ll understand once you’ve watched it.
So apparently Monday is a bank holiday, which is nice. Slightly cocks up some timelines at work as I suddenly lose 4 developer days, but I think I prefer having to fix that and having the bank holiday instead of not having the bank holiday. I think I shall use the time to sort out our ‘garden’. It’s more a series of pots than a garden, but pretty much everything is dead so if I go chuck £20 at some new plants and spend a couple of hours potting them it’ll brighten up the outside. I can then water them for a few weeks before getting bored, leaving them to fend for themselves and repeating the whole process this time next year.
On Friday night I was in the kitchen preparing dinner1 when I heard The Zozo burst out laughing. Wanting to see what was so funny I poked my head through the hatch into the living room whereupon The Zozo pointed at the wood burning stove and explained that a bird had fallen down the chimney!
Closer inspection showed that she was indeed right. There, behind the glass was a rather bemused looking bird that was going to need rescuing and releasing. Thankfully this is something The Zozo is good at as it’s part of her job. I retired back to the kitchen and with the aid of a blanket the bird was soon outside.
On Sunday I returned from the shops to find another bird (I can’t be sure if this was the same one) sitting on out doorstep. At first I though it was somehow trapped under the door, but it seemed to be just sitting there. I put my shopping down and explained that it would either have to move or that I would have to pick it up to see if it was ok. It chose moving, although it didn’t fly well. If it is the same bird as Friday then it’s either a young bird that’s just flown the nest (in which case, is the nest in the chimney? May need to get that checked), or it injured itself when it had it’s fall. If it’s not the same bird then perhaps the strange behaviour of our local wildlife was somehow Rapture related.
1Mince creation2 with some posh pasta that was long, like spaghetti but flat like pasta and had coloured lines.
2Like spag-bol, but slightly more freeform and a little drier. It evolved from something I used to make at uni.
So with 2 long weekends in a row I’ve started thinking about painting the bathroom, bedroom and touching up some of the exterior paintwork. Great in theory as I have 8 days off and probably shouldn’t spend them playing Minecraft (much as I’d love to). The practice may prove rather different. I’m crap at DIY. No, seriously, I’m really shit at it. I know the theory, I just can’t put it into practice. Still, what’s the worst that can go wrong…
Pinky, one of our mice, looks like she may be going the way of The Brain next. She’s been thin for a few weeks now, but then she is old. The other mice are fat porkers so Pinky often gets taken out of the cage for a little hand feeding. Normally this involves putting a small pile of sunflower seeds somewhere for her to eat which she will shell and then devour. Apparently, however, she gets bored of this. Or at least that’s what The Zozo tells me as she’s shelling the sunflower seeds for Pinky to just eat. Whatever the reason she’s certainly trained The Zozo to do the work for her. I’m just impressed how many sunflower seeds such a little mouse can eat.
While the construction of the new bin store may not have gone exactly how I envisaged, and while the end result may be a little wonky, it has to be said that opening a (slightly stiff) door, removing the bin and then closing the (still stiff) door with the gentle application of foot beat the hell out of struggling with the front panel on the old bin store. This can only be considered A Good Thing™.
I’ve been on holiday over the past week, hence the scarcity of posts. I’ve also been given a deadline for reviewing a friends book which has helped push things from “meaning to do” to “actually doing” so posting may also flip to afternoons (not that anyone cares).
What you do care about, because it’s desperately interesting, is that work should have started on our roof. The house is clad in scaffolding front and back and, hopefully, vast sections of our rather poorly tiled roof should actually now be properly tiled and do amazing things like stop water. This does, unfortunately, involve parting with rather a large number of pieces of paper emblazoned with pictures of Her Maj., and adorned with swirly patterns and the number 20. Something I could do without, but needs must and everything. In order to help pay for this one of the things I need to progress from “meaning to do” to “actually doing” is eBaying the vast array of stuff in the loft. There’s also a ruddy great big telly residing at the Zoo which will probably need flogging at some point. I wonder if I can pay the roofer in my electrical cast offs 
I suck at DIY. And I mean REALLY suck. Today I set out with a spring in my step and smile on my face and attempted to build my new bin store. 7 hours later and I had something that bore no resemblance to the picture on the website where I bought it from. It’s not square, the doors aren’t on properly and I’m pretty sure the hinged will break in a few months. Flatpack I can do, but the instant I need to drill my own holes it becomes advanced construction and I really should Get Someone Else To Do It because I can’t Do It Myself. If it hadn’t been for The Zozo coming out and helping I think the whole thing would have ended up smashed to bits and fed into the fire. Still, it’s vaguely functional and it looks better than the old thing. Still, not how I envisaged spending my day.