Nigella Damascena

Yesterday night I was able to tick off one of the many check-boxes on my "Things to do Before Murdered" list. That is, I was honoured to participate in a mouse catch along with the father of my sweetheart (meus amatrix). He was a cheeky beggar (the mouse, not Han's dad), and fleet of foot, and hence it took around 52 minutes to chase him out from under the piano and into John's hands, at which point he decided to sample the meaty flesh of the aforesaid, much to my amusement and John's surprise (and slight pain). At one point earlier than this, I managed to catch his tail with the edge of a Compact Disc case as it carelessly roped out from underneath the upright instrument. Upon firmly grasping its tail with fingers and removing the case, however, the blighter inconsiderately left an inch of it in our fingertips, and, chuckling merrily to himself at his own cleverness, darted back with the remainders of his body, ready for the next round.

In the end, he got the freedom which we so committedly were trying to give him, as he leapt out through the french windows... straight into the paws of Darcy, the household cat.

Lol, only kidding.

KTF