Before anyone gets on their phone to shop me to the RSPCA, they were already dead. I promise. I was just getting rid of the evidence.
I got off an overnight plane in from India on Friday morning. Trekked across London to the wrong side of the river, dumped my suitcase, logged on to do an hour or so’s work and then headed out the door to City airport – where my flight up to Edinburgh was delayed by an hour. On the basis that nobody can really sleep on a plane, by the time I got home to the barn, I had been awake for 44 hours, and so had decided it was going to be a long lazy lie-in and a do-nothing day in the morning.
The local wildlife decided otherwise. I was startled awake by an almighty bang and a loud screeching. I tried the old ‘head under the pillow’ trick to get back to sleep. But a couple of minutes later and it happened again. It seemed a couple of local ravens had taken offence to something they had seen in the house, and were suicidally dive-bombing the living room windows. The only thing that would stop them was me standing at the window in my PJ’s jumping up and down like a lunatic to scare them off.
It was 5.20 am.
Well since I’ve been so rudely awakened, I might as well get up properly, particularly as it was promising to be a gloriously sunny weekend; such a rare event in Scotland it seems a shame to waste any of it.
So I decided to do some gardening and happily spent a whole day weeding the front garden.
I suppose I should point out here that the photo shows an area of about 8 m² that I have successfully cleared of weeds in one whole day. I am in denial about the state of the remaining 2½ acres that need clearing…..
But all that fresh air, coupled with what now felt like chronic sleep depravation over the last few days, I decided I was definitely having a lie-in on Sunday.
The local wildlife voted against. Again.
It’s like living in a Hitchcock movie. The dive-bombing ravens returned at 5 am. I got up and did my bird-scaring routine, but this time I went back to bed afterwards. Peace perfect peace…… lasted for about half an hour and then the cows started.
While I was pottering around in the garden on Saturday, entertainment was provided by the local farmers and the annual pilgrimage of the cows to the high pastures. They were being brought up two at a time and offloaded into the field above the barn.
They were very clearly not happy about it and spent their time walking a circuit of the field, obviously trying to find a gap in the fences. Every time another two cows arrived, they changed direction and walked a circuit round the other way. All the while mooing madly. The grass in this field was clearly not greener!
They eventually fell silent at about 8 pm. But then decided that 6 am on a Sunday morning was a good time to resume their bellowing.
So I gave up and got up. Another gloriously sunny day. So I decided I’d work outside again. But this time I had a mission – to clear the garage. Following the discovery last week that the gable end wall to the garage was in danger of disintegrating, I’ve arranged to get it repaired. Unfortunately anybody wanting to work in the garage will have to be something of an assault course master. It’s a bit of a mess:
So my good deed for the day is to get it all cleared.
Being one of those “Well I might need it one day…” sort of people, I tend to hoard stuff. Including building materials. At some point I will need to get another skip, but in the meantime, I have a cunning plan for disposing of the polystyrene insulation boards. I’ll move them all up to the rafters!
It was while I was shifting them that I made my gruesome discovery. Underneath the polystyrene boards there appears to be a rabbits graveyard in my garage. I’m not sure whether they hopped in there of their own accord and got stuck and died of starvation. Or perhaps the insulation heaps were designated as the local old rabbits home, and all the corpses I found had just died of old age. Or maybe a predator had built himself a secret lair in the polystyrene and was snaffling rabbits as they hopped around my garden.
Who knows? But it means that all that dust and dirt that had been covering me as I manhandled the insulation up the ladder was actually the mouldering particles of long dead rabbits. Ugh… not a thought that sat well with the breakfast bacon rolls. Not to mention the fact I was now left with a dozen or so dead bunnies to dispose of.
I could be wrong but I think there might be a law against disposing of corpses in the wheelie bin. It traumatises the dustman, or some such nonsense.
So how else do I get rid of a collection of dead rabbits? Well I could dig a mass grave. Except, as I think I might have mentioned before, my land is mostly rock. We don’t dig holes in the ground up here, we chisel them. And sorry if this comes as a disappointment but I am not blistering my hands to bits just to provide a dozen very long dead rabbits a decent funeral.
Nothing else for it: Cremation!
So there you have it. Suicidal ravens, homesick cows and a graveyard full of rabbits in the garage. A perfectly normal, peaceful weekend in the country….