10 May 2017
catch us the foxes
A family of foxes has moved in under his allotment shed, a vixen and three cubs. We've seen her - skinny, tired looking, the prettiest face, leaving her trail of takeaway boxes round the back for her clan. The cubs have been more elusive and we only found out about about them from a neighbour who snapped them frolicking about on the seedbed. We've pretty much given up on that - the sticks are just a half-hearted attempt to stop a complete takeover. At least they came in handy when we decided to tidy out the shed and air the sun hat collection. Not that that the seedbed was exactly thriving anyway - there's been hardly any rain to speak over for nearly two months and the job description for prevailing wind seems to include cold, brisk, northerly as desirable attributes these days. There's some protection in this west-facing corner and there are plenty of blankets on hand to keep the cold out while we sit spellbound as the old-fashioned sprinkler whirls round erratically and the birds swish by hoping for some refreshment. It's all pretty zen.
Catch us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil our vineyard? Nah. Live and let live. We can always eat rhubarb pickle and cheese until they can find their own way to the takeaway.