Creatures

Mike came into the bedroom last night and said, “I have sprayed the mice in the bathroom”.   We are both at a stage in our lives where we forget words or get them wrong, so it didn’t  take too long to realise he was referring to there being another visitation of ants in the bathroom which he had dealt with.   Apparently menopausal women are also bad on words.  I am long past this stage but still forget words and have to give desperate clues like the woman I heard of who had to cry, “Pottery – circular – for eating from” when all else failed her. 

Ants are noted for being hard working and organised, so goodness knows what they want in our bathroom.  We really have nothing for them.  When you are young and you think of yourself being older there are some things that you never imagine you may one day have to do.  Such as this morning when I was throwing beakers of cold water at the back of the bath to sloosh the dead ants into the bath so that I could turn the shower spray on them and send them down the plug hole.  I was reluctant to wipe them away and have an ant filled cloth, and the mop and bucket would have been tricky.  The beakers of water method did work, though.   When I was about nine years old I had to write an essay on what I would be doing when I was 21.  I said I would have a small car and a white lady poodle (the height of sophistication).  By 21 I had neither and never achieved the white lady poodle, but slopping dead ants down the plug hole certainly never came into it. 

I’ve said previously that our house is very old and subject to invasion by differing creatures.    I was going to have a bowl of muesli for breakfast having dealt with the ant corpses, when I realised that a small hole had been gnawed into the bottom of the packet and there were tiny black bits mingled in with the oats, fruit and nut.  So I didn’t have a bowl of muesli and had to give the cupboard a good clean out. 

There are lots of beautiful tree lined walking tracks in the Dordogne.  These are usually unoccupied and very relaxing, ideal for trying to clear your mind and not thinking of tomorrow or yesterday or anything but the track ahead and the green leaves;  a bit like walking through your own meditation.  I was walking very calmly and mindlessly when the dog found a huge pile of dung and rolled in it, with great joy.   It is not possible to shout, “No, no, stop it – get out of there” calmly and meditatively.  I can’t do it, anyway, but thankfully, she stopped it.

I was listening to a cuckoo today and wondering why they continue to call out.  It’s a bit late in the season for trying to attract a mate, most of the birds have done that already, and they can’t be warning people away from their nests as they don’t have them.  I think we have got cuckoos wrong.  I think they call out after they have dumped their eggs in other birds’ nests.  And it’s not “Cuckoo, cuckoo” they are calling but something much ruder.    But if you claimed to have heard the first "F**k You" of the spring, no-one would be interested.