Here is a photograph of my workstation in the window of Monkey Towers. If you look beyond the stupid (and rather foul-smelling, if I'm honest) 'scented candle' and pointless miniature merry-go-round with aeroplanes on it and through the window, you will see a castellated red brick wall. I have just seen EIGHT squirrels hop along it, in a row. A sort of squirrel day out. Maybe my front garden is Squirrel Alton Towers. Apparently the collective noun is 'A scurry of squirrels'. This is wrong. A Haunting of Squirrels. A Freakshow of Squirrels. A Stalk of Squirrels. There's also a 'dray' of squirrels (before you all frantically turn to Wikipedia), but that's not as good. Anyway, I don't know what they're doing, but I can tell you this: when a squirrel makes a noise, it QUACKS.
My mother shares my concern, and writes from France:
V. worried about squirrels. Can you not record Monster's [stupid fat cat] miaow and play at 10 times volume? Squirrels, whether imaginary or real should then piss off, unless they have been fed nuts by a moron and have hidden them in your garden.
9 comments:
You didn't say, but would they be red squirrels or grey squirrels? Apparently, it's legal to go after the latter with an all-out ground assault, including heavy weaponry and tactical strikes from high-altitude bombers. The former, on the other hand, just need our love.
I know, I love red squirrels but grey squirrels (pigeons with tails) must Die. They are doing my nut in, in more ways than one.
x
Grey squirrels are the north american revenge for europe's introduction of the rat, pigeon and sparrow on our shores. Wreak, little squirrels, wreak !
However, it might be best to remain wary of the squirrels in your particular neighborhood.
Monkeygreatgrandmother - latterly known as "the late but not lamented" by her daughter-in-law - called grey squirrels 'tree rats'. She used to catch them in a humane trap and then drown them in a barrel.
Did she?!!! Brilliant!! Was that before or AFTER she'd stopped hiding dead rabbits down the back of her armchair?
Ah yes dear Jonnyboy, this story made us all wet our pants laughing when it came out. I'd completely forgotten about it. It could, of course, explain everything ...
Pre-dead rabbit down side of armchair.
Did I tell you of time that small dog brought in huge pigeon, still alive, and I slammed kitchen door in his face. Miriam (aged, tall and practical Swedish woman for those who do not know), looked at me witheringly, commanded a supermarket bag, opened door, wrestled dog for bird, picked up pigeon with bag, walked across garden and banged pigeon's head on site of boule piste - again and again and again and again. I think it was dead then. If you want more Miriam stories, let me know - they get better.
The sooner you get a blog of your own, madam, the sooner you can stop upstaging me with MUCH funnier stories than mine.
now get back to your absinthe, you know it makes you feel better.
x
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