I could probably forgive that, though, had the little bastards not found a bee's hive in the attic and ripped it apart for the honey. Under normal circumstances I'm all for the destruction and immiseration of insects, but given the refugees of the attack attempted to find cover in our spare room and bathroom, I'm rather less impressed. Especially since the resulting battle apparently created a hole in the roof through which immature pine martens keep falling and screaming blue murder until either their parents find them, or they manage to run into the kitchen and try and make it for the stairs. So far we've been alert enough to intercept them, but it's only a matter of time before they make it upstairs and into our bed...
 |
| The face of the enemy |
No comments:
Post a Comment