I think in blog-speak my predicament would go something like this: 'OMG *shriek!* - there's a *mouse* above my head LOL :-( '
Well, sort of.
From where I'm sitting I can hear the scritch-scratch of tiny feet, almost certainly those of a mouse, scampering between bedroom ceiling and studio floor. Above my head. The other sound I can hear - providing I give out a bossy loud shout of 'Stamp now!" - are those of Alan's feet clomping on the floor upstairs. Mouse-wise I figure that's a pretty scary noise. And for the meantime it seems to have worked.
But what I know, and what the mouse doesn't, is that sitting in the kitchen Even As We Speak is a job-lot of mouse traps. And Lindt milk chocolate for bait.
And here of course I have a problem......practicality versus sentimentality. Cute little beady eyes and twitchy whiskers versus scratching in the night chewed wires fire hazard.........