Golly. Mice. Again. In Attic.
However, these were not Normal Mice.
They appeared to do Housework. Or perhaps that might be Mousework.
Moving furniture type of Housework. You know, getting behind the piano to hoover. Sort of thing.
Lay in bed in the early hours the other morning. Crashing. Scraping. Banging. For God's Sake, what were these mice bloody doing?
Spoke to Husband about it later as we sipped our cup of tea in bed.
'Why are those mice so bloody noisy?' I asked, plaintively. 'Could hardly sleep with all that noise.'
'Because they are Crows,' Husband explained kindly. 'On the roof. About twenty of them. Jumping about.'
Oh. Jumping? On the roof? Crows?
Had Absolutely No Faith in Husband. Course they're not Crows. They are Mice. Any Fool would know that.
This morning heard the Noises again. Lay and listened to scratching and rustling.
Thought to self, That is Not A Crow. That is a mouse or even, gulp, a Rat.
Listened a bit more.
Decided to open window because a bit hot.
Crept to window so as not to wake Husband. Opened window. Twenty Big Black Crows who were jumping about on the roof flew off and into the dawn.
That'll be it, then.
Husband is right. Again.