The End Nigh, Brandy, Mouse....

Tuesday: Two days till we vote for the wrong government!
From then on we will despair of the mistake, blame them for it, not us, and ensure 'I never voted for them, no matter what I said before the election.'
The leaders are telling greater porkies than ever, Boris ignoring children on hospital floors more than ever, everyone offering billions here and there with no accounting and yet, when it comes to the vote, it is clear the vast majority appear willing to vote like sheep!
A couple more days of screaming headlines, lies mostly, misinformation, accusations and then the great climax.  A hung parliament.
Then we go through it all again in a couple of months...
Sadly the lying incompetent Boris looks like he might win, although there is hope in Uxbridge where he might lose out to a local man.  If only!  I wonder if he hopes to lose out so he can avoid responsibility for his mess?  Very like him, also like him is an arrogant approach that takes victory for granted so choose which you prefer.
All this rot takes a back seat to the news the Heart of MIdlothian have got a new manager and now the world, well Edinburgh, is filled with hope.  That is good news.

 
Up again last night coughing.
Felt not to bad during day and cleaned many things and sorted much out.  Then had to sit up all night.  Blasted thing will not go away.  Nothing helps.
So I opened my Christmas gift to myself, paid from those Sainsbury vouchers, in a bid to see if this helps.  In no way does it help but it tastes better than cough mixture. 
Weather rough, people rough, wind howling along.  
Good news on the mouse however.  The screams from next door indicate the mouse cannot break through my defence line and has moved back there.  John, the workman was in yesterday telling me she had been afraid it was a rat!  She went home to mother, her man obeyed her and followed.  We now await the next move by the mouse.  I lie awake, well I probably will tonight, coughing, and l will be listening out for teeth cutting though aged wood.  However I think we have won!

James and a Mouse...

There is one clear error on the front of this book.  The xenophobic English refer to 'James I' even though the author himself states clearly he is called 'James the VI & Ist.'  This is the type of English contempt that James himself suffered from the English parliamentarians and their nobles.  

That said the author does a reasonable job with this book.

While stating he never liked Jams he looked into him and found much to admire, and there certainly is much.  James remains a mixed up character.  His upbringing was cruel though he became well red, speaking Latin, French and much else by the time he was 5 or 6.  Too many beatings from a tutor who constantly criticised his mother, Mary,Queen of Scots, had run away not long after he was born in Edinburgh Castle.  This meant he was pronounced King before he was weaned.  The nobles took care of him, mostly however those that did tended to die, either in war or mysteriously.  Being Regal was a dangerous occupation in the 1500's.

Being a short book we hurry through his squabbles with the Scots Kirk, his tendency towards Bishops never went down well, his move to London where he was welcomed and greeted by all.  His early success in ending war with Spain and in Ireland although he did tend to find it easy to spend money he did not possess.

His marriage to Ann of Denmark was not a great one, seven children arrived somehow yet most died before they were two. years of age.  Henry, who was destined to be King died aged 18, Elizabeth and Charles survived though Charles did lose his head of course.  While James could negotiate and be patient Charles could not.  James wrote many academic works including justifications for the 'Divine Right of Kings.'  How much he believed in in practice is debatable but certainly Charles fell for it and it cost him.

James wrote much in the way of theological works yet managed to spend his days hunting, sharing the coarsest of jokes and drinking far too much for a 'man of the cloth.'  Indeed most of his life was spent hunting, alongside a few chosen friends, mostly male and their behaviour was far from pure.  His youth may have been responsible but his bible reading, good though this was, failed him here.

This continued throughout his life.

His hunting may have been to keep him away from his ministers, however the work followed him wherever he was hunting and his duty was observed.  Possibly the peace of the country was preferable to the business of London, certainly less people to bother him and Parliament was a trial to him, as indeed it is to anyone who wishes to rule by themselves.

While welcomed at first James soon fund much resentment from Englishmen that Scots, 'foreigners,' were running their Parliament.  Such xenophobic emotions have never left the 'English' Palace of Westminster.  Proof, as if it were required, that Scotland must be independent from this grasping southern kingdom.

This is an ideal book to get a grasp of King James VI & I.  Other books will be of more depth and a differing impression possibly received but this is a good starting point.  

Whether he died grasping his last boyfriend is however is debatable...

  

Running behind time today as a visitor arrived before I was half awake, it was just after nine after all.

Then I had the household stuff to do while also discovering where the mouse had come from last night.  The brute had found a weak point and pushed his way through the wire.   I wonder if he has been reading about 'Colditz?'  Anyway, another bag of wire has gone in, more spaces blocked up and nothing edible will be left out tonight.

It would certainly be better if I had a cat.  However such a place as this, plus a main road outside my door, does not make that a sensible idea.  No nearby cats to borrow either.  I wonder if 'catnip' would put him off?  Either way I noticed small square chunks of poison in the shop and may well be baiting him with those  soon!

Lousy Mousey

Another mouse trauma has arisen.
While some have the joy of Boa Constrictors, Tarantula's and other poisonous beasts here in the cold wilderness of Essex mice and pigeons are out lot.
The pigeons have been thrown out and often sit glaring from the neighbours rooftops into my window, the mouse however has yet to learn his place.  His place is elsewhere!  He will learn it soon.

A few days ago I was irked by scratching, not me but the mouse scratching at the carpet.  It took a  day or two to actually discover what he was up to and keeping a light on all night chased him away. 
Two days later the neighbour knocked on my door asking if I had mice.  
The cheeky chappie had gone next door looking for nesting material, he had taken no food from me, and just chomped portions of his girls clothing.  He called in the Rat catcher who did his thing, sent in a bill, and left.
Two days later I noticed the mouse had returned to me.
Thanks a bunch!
Yesterday saw me moving heavy furniture so I could get down to the skirting floor under the old wall heater.  Do you remember those things filled with bricks?  The idea being they took in heat at night and released it during the day, total failure and costing a pound a day at that!  Under here the skirting board bends away slightly.  Aged houses have several such faults.  The mouse had increased the gap thereby avoiding the 'steel wool' I filled the gap with a while ago.  Yesterday I put the rest in place and suggested he try getting through that lot.  Other areas he had been chewing at were also dealt with and that night I went to bed content in his removal.

Very early this morning, around 8:20, I arrived in the East Wing.  A glance around revealed no sign of 'Mousey Mouse' so I burned my toast and cheese in the normal fashion.  I then looked through the grubby papers, Facebook, Twitter and my empty emails.  This of course takes time.  
As I returned my mug for refill I noticed the yellow container with several small potatoes within lying there empty.  "Empty?" Thought I?  Empty indeed!  The brute had got through the prison fence and gone off with seen small potatoes!  All of them were now lying down by his gap, the failing steel wool brushed aside!
Grrrrrrr!  Thought I.  This means wandering up the road again.

Breakfast was somewhat hindered by this revelation.   I stared out awaiting an easy answer, there was none.  So, soon afterwards I was off up the road, on a Wednesday when the market draws in the crowds, hoping not to bump into people who talk all day and say nothing just like I do, and was delighted that while the temperature remained low the sun did decide to reveal itself.  
Having wandered around the usual shops I finally fell into the 'ironmongers' I suppose we call it, one of those shops that sells almost everything, and found my way to the 'steel wool' piled in the corner. There was until recently a similar style shop run by an Asian family, possibly Bangladeshi.  This was a great shop, filled with the products of Chinese plagiarism it contained many things you needed and lots of things you did not realise you needed until you saw them on the shelf in front of you.  Cheap and cheerful friendly family with very little English between them, I loved that shop!  Then B&M opened nearby and killed them off.  They could compete with the popular local 'ironmongers' up the road but not with a big store also and sadly they moved away.  Now we also have a 'Poundland'  come to the town, and while they have the basics they are not like the Asian shop.  Still I give gift cards at Christmas, I hope 'Poundland' do them! 

Armed to the teeth with wire wool I spent some time face down filling in gaps, then cleaning the other new found spaces that the brute uses and finally, having hoovered up the mess, I was satisfied.
A trap is set, if he comes he has only one place to go for his potato, one of which is set before him, ad if he gets through the 'Hindenburg Line' I may have to either obtain more wool or obtain rat poison.  For myself!

I suppose it livens up a bored life.  But I was not bored!  I suppose it keeps me busy.  But I was busy, not actually doing what I ought to do but I had plenty to do if I had done it.  Instead my day has been wasted with this brute.  Of course if it works then he will be off next door again.  They are young, they can do the caring for the mouse, not me.   
Now with that attended to, my dinner burnt, all else pushed aside I can turn to watching the football undisturbed except by women on facebook demanding my attention for small things.  These women have no care do they?