Picnic At Ratty Rock

The year 2015 was ushered in by a warm, overcast morning. Food laid out on a table for tits and robins has been rapidly consumed over the last few days. Early on, Becky watched a small rat, with the aid of its tail wound around the table legs, speeding up to the top and availing itself of the goodies. She has also followed the rodent’s route to and from the jungle next door where it obviously lives. Rats apparently have no bladder control mechanism, so leak a tempting trail as they run. That is clearly why Scooby has found the area so intriguing.

Later, having set out some tasty tit-bits on the gravel in front of the entrance to the rat’s tunnel, our daughter lay in wait with the camera pressed against the sitting room window. She took 50 more fascinating shots from which it was very difficult for me to select the following pictorial narrative of our visitor’s comings and goings:

Where there is one such charming little creature there are no doubt many more.

This is really Becky’s post, because she chose the title as well. I think she had a film title in mind.

I ambled down to the Shorefield stream and back. Traffic reflectors and discarded food and drinks containers gave touches of brightness to the gloomy verges and hedgerows, and a headless fish flashed on the far bank.

Not realising I had photographed it earlier, Ian, on a later walk, brought back the trophy beer glass. When he found it it had contained a lolly stick.

Whenever we’ve had the opportunity over the last three days, we have continued with ‘Downton Abbey’, and have now reached the end of the second series.

Jackie’s sausage casserole, on which we dined this evening, was made with Hobgoblin beer from a five litre cask Ian had given me for Christmas. Accompanied by swede and potato mash, carrots, and cabbage, it was as scrumptious as usual. I drank Cotes du Rhones Villages 2013, and Ian drank coke.