Sorry Gerald

As I've said in previous posts the flat that I live in has vermin. Cockroaches and mice. The council have been called and much to Marks disapproval we now have poison out for both and glue traps for the roaches. Mark expressed concern about the glue traps when they were put out that a mouse might get stuck on one, I thought he was being ridiculous, until one did. Last night he spotted it on the glue trap next to the washing machine. I don't know how long it had been there, but a fair while if the amount of pooh was anything to go by. So I took it out side into the court yard, not wanting to hurt it or stress it any more than necessary but needing to get it off of the glue pad. I've got a wooden spoon that I'm trying to get underneath the body of it but its fur is stuck fast and I just can't do it. Another approach, I try to get its foot off by scraping the glue from the pad. Mark has brought a bit of bread for it and it is dutifully eating it but also taking a bite out of the wooden spoon every now and then. The poor thing was probably terrified. My hand slipped and I crushed both its back feet. Shit, well there's nothing for it now I have to kill it. I sent Mark away because he's as soft as shit and look around for something that will do the deed quickly. There's a cooker dumped about 50 yards away, living in a real shit hole has at least this advantage. So I take the mouse along to it telling him that I'm really sorry, but I can't do anything else and I'm justifying to my self that it's probably been poisoned anyway, I open the oven door try to position it so that it will....be quick and slam the door. Open it up again, shit I got the bottom half. Move it up a bit and slam! that time I got it, it can only have been a matter of seconds but it kept me awake most of the night. I feel horrible. When I got back up stairs Mark was crying so that started me off. What a fucking pair!

Anyway, here is my tribute to the mouse that I killed. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice (yeah, tell that to the jury!). I hope it has found a better place with lots of crumbs and a nice warm nest.

Goodbye Gerald, or Mabel, whichever you were, I hope you've found peace.

Wacko Jacko's Dead!

I thought that was worth a mention, there's an interesting conspiracy theory that's been going around for at least 5 years and it states that MJ has actually been dead for over twenty: Decide for yourself.

Well, I don't want to talk about that. I wanted to say that I had a day off from hospital visits last night and went for an impromptu picnic after work. It was lovely. It was Marks idea, we took a few bottles of beer got some crisps and dips on the way and sat in the park on Cambridge Heath Road. We sat on the grass, chatted, ate, drank and read-him The Time Machine me The Phantom of The Opera, until the evening sun became too weak to warm us and we headed home. He had his arm around my shoulders all the way home, I don't usually like what I call "ownership" contact, but I found this quite comforting and I was strangely proud that people would see that I belong to him (and vice-versa). When we got back I did some internet shopping for his Birthday present-I wont tell you what in case he's reading, but I think I've outdone myself this year. He has an army of pressies-that's the only hint you're getting!

It was simply a pleasent evening, I got enough sleep did some enjoyable things and woke up this morning feeling fresh. I shall be back at the hospital tonight and this weekend is anyones guess. But I had one good night I can think about that and smile.


Supplimentary : The post has come and Mark has had an 'Hello Kitty' tee shirt sent to me at work! It's pink, I love it!

Memories

I never squash bugs or anything else if I can help it. I did once when I was about 6 or 7, I was watching this bug on a metal bollard. Running around erratically on the bulbous head of the bollard doing whatever bugs do. What was it doing? I stood, fascinated for what seemed like ages watching it closely. It was tiny less than ½ cm in diameter, but I didn’t know that word back then, it was black but rainbow like as it moved, it looked shiny and hard-even compared with the bollard. I wanted to see its face and count its legs but they were hidden underneath. I wanted to pick it up, have a look and let it run over my hand but I was afraid that it might bite me. It didn’t have wings just this petrol-metallic dome for a body. I wondered if it would make a noise if I crushed it and some part of me if I could crush it at all. So I did. With the blunt end of a pencil. I could, it made a soft crunch sound. I didn’t have the forethought but only then realised I hadn’t just made a noise, I had killed it, I couldn’t piece it back together and let it go. That it was final. (for the bug at any rate) and I had caused it. I felt enough guilt and sorrow in that moment to remember the event with such clarity today. I lifted the pencil toward me I saw what was left of the bug and realised I still couldn’t see its face or count its legs. So I wiped the bug mush onto the bollard put the pencil in my pocket and ran to catch up with the rest of the crowd that were on their way to school.