I walk into the dark bedroom last night and a bat flappy-flies right at my face and head. Brrgghghffff! Fffgggnnmmmrr! The Husband is of no help, laughing maniacally as I run screaming from the room. He says I am flapping more than the bat. I send him to kill it with the broom. But the broom is bald and useless. We have a new one, but it's in two parts. We keep forgetting to buy a nail to put it together. For want of a nail the bat lived.
I get up this morning, leave the bedroom, and walk smalk bang into a giant cow with ferocious horns. Moo! it says. Moo! I say back. Perhaps it is inspecting the verandah?
And there I was thinking we needed a break, a holiday, a little safari somewhere, watching animals. Silly me, it's all here. The Husband though, is hunched over his desk, playing with rocks. Should I worry?
On a positive note, the cats are bored and listless and have FINALLY decided to hunt the chickens. Hurrah. I hate chickens. Littlecat even made an attempt to biff the cow. I'll make a lion out of him yet.