Lemon brought yet another mouse in this morning before I even managed to drag myself out of bed, so it's limping around the house somewhere.
As such, bleary-eyed and decidedly NOT REMOTELY bushy-tailed, I've been doing what has become second nature: THE WOUNDED RODENT MORNING ROUTINE.
Check my slippers for dead/dying rodent. If empty, put them on.
Check kettle for dead/dying rodent. If empty, fill it and start water for tea.
Check toaster for dead/dying rodent. If empty, make toast.
You get the idea.
Anyway, just now I realized: I'M LIVING OUT A SUPER-GRUESOME LIFT-THE-FLAPS BOOK.
Oh, good, the water's boiling. More later.