Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Come in. It's Christmas.
Oh the joys of rural living.
Our bedroom is a tip! It's a huge room but unlike our two gites (which are beautifully restored and cosy and surely represent good value for money,book now to avoid disappointment,) is in need of a little renovation to say the least.It's the room where everything that doesn't have a place lives.There are piles of stuff. Boxes that haven't been unpacked since we moved here eight years ago. Everything from mattresses to mirrors to car radios to christmas decorations and somewhere in amongst all this is our new house guest.
For some time now I've awoke in the dead of night to scratchings and scrapings and the patter of tiny feet sometimes running overhead inside the sloping section of the ceiling and more recently from the corner of the room that is this pile of stuff.
What could it be? Far too noisy for a mouse. I know the cats outside,and anyway when you switch the lamp on it stops instantly. A rat? possibly, although too horrible too contemplate.
Well yesterday I think I found the clue needed for identification.
We were getting dressed up ready to go to a Christmas dinner and as the wellies didn't really go with the suit I put on a pair of shoes not often worn to find one of them contained a stash of hazlenuts and acorns!
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Must be. Mustn't it?