The smell was so over-whelming and foul last night...presumably because the cottage had warmed up a bit...that we decided against Sligo for today...the smell had to be dealt with first.
The kitchen was built onto the main body of the cottage sometime in the dim and distant past using the same roughly shaped stones. And I would think...like the rest of the cottage...that there isn't a proper foundation. The walls had been covered with a rough plaster and the floor was a thin layer of concrete...just a skin really.
We put dry walling up, which is attached to wooden batons with a layer of insulation between wall and dry walling. So between the stones and the insulation, there are a hundred and one different places for mouses to chew themselves tunnels.
Himself was insistent that a mouse had died behind the dry-lining...I was equally insistent that split milk had gone down that little hole in the 'fridge that lets the icy water drain into.
If it is a mouse quietly decomposing behind the dry walling then you'll have to cut a hole in it and fish the mouse out I said.
Himself dithered for a while and said it would make an awful mess and I said it would of course but how much longer can a small dead animal stink...
So he decided to pull the 'fridge out...again...and inspect the back more closely. There is a little tray in the back...it slides out...and what was inside it? Disgusting curdy foul smelling sour milk.
I didn't say, I told you the milk had gone down that little hole and you said it couldn't have done...I didn't say the only reason I went along with chopping a bloody great hole in the kitchen wall in pursuit of non-existent dead mouses was because you were convinced I was wrong about the sour milk...
I made a nice cup of coffee instead.