Roddy's day job, FYI, is to front Idlewild, arguably the best band in the known history of the universe. He keeps a painfully RSS/Archive-less diary on their site. It's basically the only site left in the world that I regularly check for updates, without the help of my Google Reader. Here's what he had to say yesterday about mice:
I've lived in many different rental flats in various cities over the years, and in each one I've always, sooner or later, discovered mice. Hiding behind the cooker or Fridge, behind wardrobes, or in the case of a flat Allan and I shared in Edinburgh in the late 90's, wandering around carefree in broad daylight, hanging out in-front of the stereo, generally having a good time at our expense.
Now that I own an abode, whenever I see a mouse (for if you live in any building over a hundred years old, they’re living in the walls whether you like it our not – and can always find a way into a warm house), it feels more and more like an uninvited guest than it used to. When I rented, I accepted that I shared the rent (non-financially speaking) with some mice, but now as a 'homeowner' I'm not as immune to all the psychological pitfalls as I thought I'd be. For better or for worse, I see the home as 'belonging to me/us', which is a strange confession. The property ladder. Give me a real ladder any day.
'a man can have everything he desires in his own home yet have nothing outside the door'. I think wild child beat poet hipster Gregory Corso was right on when he wrote this line down in his notepad.
Anyway, we've killed a few in the very old fashioned Grandpa Broon style non humane traps. I'm not proud about it, but despite their cute little faces, they're bullet-quick vermin with persistence. It's a myth that they like cheese though. Don't know who made that one up.