Good grief, what a day.
It started at 6am with Felicity having a lovely lie-in on the path by the swing. I made the fatal mistake of taking a photo. The tiny click went through double glazing and she whipped her head round like I’d insulted her mother. Second click and she was up, in position, giving me the “breakfast now, human” look. She’s so tuned in to me it’s actually scary. I caved immediately, of course. Premium chicken and two sizzlers. She’s got me well trained.
Meanwhile, Panther decided that while Norman was cutting his back lawn, it was the perfect time to launch a 20-minute sit-in protest at the full-length glass door. Big eyes, pathetic expression, the full works. I gave her the Caroline-trained subtle side-eye and held firm. “Nope, not today!” She eventually wandered off looking thoroughly disgusted with me. Not offended. Disgusted. The sheer cheek.
Caroline is now safely under her cloche with the flap open for ventilation while she focuses on her recovery. She looks like a tiny greenhouse hostage, but at least she’s protected from 5 days of forecast rain. I’ve also spread the grit around her (with a spoon, because I’m classy like that). She’s finally got a fighting chance to focus on her roots instead of dying dramatically in front of the window.
The Birdbaths have been absolute carnage. The Magpies have taken over the main ones like they’ve declared martial law. Balthazar has been suspiciously absent — probably sulking after his wave-machine performances were interrupted. And Walter… oh Walter.Walter has had a very full day. First the backwards tail-swish bath, then sitting motionless in another bath like an oven-ready chicken. Mystery solved when I caught him doing a massive poop and using the birdbath as a personal bidet. The Magpie had no excuse for copying him. I cleaned the birdbaths three times yesterday and I am not doing it again today.
Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, four Walters tried to sit on one hanging feeder tray at the same time. Four Walters piling onto one tiny hanging tray like absolute clowns, thinking “yeah, we can all fit on that”.Naturally, it became an overloaded seesaw, followed by a mass 4-pigeon flap-off. Later they were all sliding down the shed roof in unison like it was the Alton Towers log flume.These pigeons have zero dignity and maximum chaos energy. They’re not birds — they’re furry-brained adrenaline junkies with feathers.
The Cyrils have been knocking feeders on the ground and emptying them like a Greek taverna on a Saturday night. I caved and refilled them. Then they did it again.I’m now seriously considering putting up the redirection notice permanently. The birds have lost the plot. I’m just trying to survive with my dignity and the last remaining drops of my Bacardi & Coke fund.Send help. Or at least a bigger shed to hide in.
No Mow May turned into WildlifeFlix
The garden looks a bit of an overgrown mess to be fair, but at least it's wildlife friendly. It all started off as 'No Mow May' a few years ago. I want wildflowers in the long grass next and I've some ready for planting. There's holes down there that I don't know who dug them - badgers? foxes? who knows. Maurice has got his hole. The far end of the garden is for the wildlife, while the end nearest to the house is....also for wildlife 😂Years ago it used to be just a big lawn with manicured stripes and perfect hedges. Now it's wild and free and alive with bizzies, buzzies, peskies, scallies and littlies, thanks to 'No Mow May'.I wouldn't have it any other way. Be free, you guys.
Felicity is soooo beautiful 😍
She sits outside the lounge door, looks directly at me, and waits.
How could I not give in to her?
Meanwhile, Panther decided that while Norman was cutting his back lawn, it was the perfect time to launch a 20-minute sit-in protest at the full-length glass door. Big eyes, pathetic expression, the full works. I gave her the Caroline-trained subtle side-eye and held firm. “Nope, not today!” She eventually wandered off looking thoroughly disgusted with me. Not offended. Disgusted. The sheer cheek.
Caroline is now safely under her cloche with the flap open for ventilation while she focuses on her recovery. She looks like a tiny greenhouse hostage, but at least she’s protected from 5 days of forecast rain. I’ve also spread the grit around her (with a spoon, because I’m classy like that). She’s finally got a fighting chance to focus on her roots instead of dying dramatically in front of the window.
The Birdbaths have been absolute carnage. The Magpies have taken over the main ones like they’ve declared martial law. Balthazar has been suspiciously absent — probably sulking after his wave-machine performances were interrupted. And Walter… oh Walter.Walter has had a very full day. First the backwards tail-swish bath, then sitting motionless in another bath like an oven-ready chicken. Mystery solved when I caught him doing a massive poop and using the birdbath as a personal bidet. The Magpie had no excuse for copying him. I cleaned the birdbaths three times yesterday and I am not doing it again today.
Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, four Walters tried to sit on one hanging feeder tray at the same time. Four Walters piling onto one tiny hanging tray like absolute clowns, thinking “yeah, we can all fit on that”.Naturally, it became an overloaded seesaw, followed by a mass 4-pigeon flap-off. Later they were all sliding down the shed roof in unison like it was the Alton Towers log flume.These pigeons have zero dignity and maximum chaos energy. They’re not birds — they’re furry-brained adrenaline junkies with feathers.
It's like they were sitting on the roof, looking at each other saying: “You thinking what I’m thinking, Walter?” and then launching themselves down the slope like it’s the newest attraction.
Wheeeeeee…Splat!The Cyrils have been knocking feeders on the ground and emptying them like a Greek taverna on a Saturday night. I caved and refilled them. Then they did it again.I’m now seriously considering putting up the redirection notice permanently. The birds have lost the plot. I’m just trying to survive with my dignity and the last remaining drops of my Bacardi & Coke fund.Send help. Or at least a bigger shed to hide in.
The garden looks a bit of an overgrown mess to be fair, but at least it's wildlife friendly. It all started off as 'No Mow May' a few years ago. I want wildflowers in the long grass next and I've some ready for planting. There's holes down there that I don't know who dug them - badgers? foxes? who knows. Maurice has got his hole. The far end of the garden is for the wildlife, while the end nearest to the house is....also for wildlife 😂Years ago it used to be just a big lawn with manicured stripes and perfect hedges. Now it's wild and free and alive with bizzies, buzzies, peskies, scallies and littlies, thanks to 'No Mow May'.I wouldn't have it any other way. Be free, you guys.
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