Thursday morning, I could swear I saw a mouse in the cupboard under the sink, and though, after many subsequent visits into the cupboard there were no further mouse sightings. Also, being on the second floor, you'd hope that anything like this would be rare.
Regardless, I knew that I'd have to do something I hate doing. Cleaning out cupboards.
It goes against the grain.
See, I'm very untidy. I'm very clean. But I missed out on the tidiness gene.
This has been the bane of my mother's life from about the time that I was born.
Other members of my family are neat freaks, verging on OCD. I'm not. My mother (and sister's) cutlery drawers have everything in straight lines, everything all line up in military fashion. Mine is not. Their linen presses are ordered by type and colour. Mine is not (saying that, everything is clean and folded and ironed - I did get the ironing gene),
Generally, cleaning out cupboards is something I do under duress.
But the alleged mouse issue forced my hand.
Everything was taken out of the cupboard.
A lot of stuff was thrown out.
The cupboard and bin were washed out. Thankfully no droppings or any other evidence of the mouse was found.
I made a trip to Kmart and found a stick-on shelf in which to put things like spare sponges and the like.
And once everything was washed out and dried, everything was loaded back into the cupboard, items that are rarely used, like methylated spirits, sandpaper and oven cleaner up the back. Booze in the middle. Cleaning products in regular use near the front.
It looks incredible. Mum would be so proud.
I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of myself.
And even better - no mice.
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