This year, with the long persistence of stormy wet conditions all through Spring, this flurry of fecundity has been inhibited. So here we are in the middle of June, and its still cold enough at night for a winter duvet. More importantly, the bird feeder - breeding interaction is really only just getting going. This year its great tits, blue tits and warblers, who are again leading the field. Our one new visitor on the block being black caps. One can daily observe how unfavourable weather literally dampened the ardour of birds.
This week, the most enjoyable thing has been observing one warbler, who I call 'Fatty'. Young warbler chick's are small and fluffy, who can end up resembling a fluff ball with a beak. But it was noticeable that 'Fatty' was exceptionally large. Always treated differently to all the others in the brood. An adult would turn up and actively feed it, even though 'Fatty' could demonstrably eat for themselves. No problem there at all, quite the reverse.
Then came the day when 'Fatty' hardly moved away from the bird feeder. They plonked themselves on the floor of it and just ate and ate and ate. Getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Yes, they could still, just about, fly off from time to time, but quickly returned. And so, as the sun began to set, it seemed 'Fatty' was never going to leave, because who knows what might happen over night? The food might run out, and what then? They just needed to be there to consume every last living morsel of it.
One recent alarming occurance has happened to the bird feeder a couple of times, to my horror. One minute there's the usual flurry of early morning birds coming and going. And then when you weren't looking, this massive rat had somehow got up onto the feeder, wrapped itself around the outside of it, and was wolfing the bird fat down.
A baffle for the bird feeder has been ordered to deter this from happening. Being in such close proximity to vermin does rather chill the blood. I know they already inhabit the void in my workshop roof, because I can hear their constant skittering noises. But within a metre or two of our back door? I draw the line at that.
Talking of deterrence. Having erected my scout pattern of sticks, to deter cats from using my trough of beetroots and the rhubarb patch as a defecation zone, I rested too easily on my 'that'll show em' triumphal stance
Yesterday, I came home to find sticks broken and beetroot plants flattened or hoofed out of the earth, yet again. Such was this cats determination not to have its poo palace put off limits. I've now re-improvised a fence with plastic sheeting around the outside of the trough, to act as an additional barrier to any cat using it as a means to an end.
I know that the trough and rhubarb patch are the only bit of open loose earth in the entire back garden area. I can see how tempting this must be for a cat. But nonetheless, it's hard not to take all this as a conscious act of wanton cat vandalism. If they knew how much this was royally pissing me off, they'd find even more delight in the emotional devastation their poo protest could reek.
On a brighter note, I finally got the revamp of the rotten corner of our patio completed. It looks great. Now we're on to the second stage, the cleaning and repainting of the rest of it. But for that to happen I need a sequence of rain free days, which is just not likely at the moment.
I've begun constructing the third and final stage - making a replacement fence to act as a patio wind break. I'm making this out of random off cuts, painters planks, frame mouldings and furniture hardware. How it will be assembled is still in the intuitive improvisation stage. It's lookin good so far, but admittedly there is a fair way to go on this. I might complete all this before the summer finishes. Depends on how busy we get with making stuff for the business.
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