Yesterday I had a bit of a fright. Parsnip, our elderly rescue dog, (think shouty mixed breed Jack Russell), was determined to go out into the front garden and snuffle around the lower half of the Privet hedge. She emerged with a wedge of dried leaves, which she promptly dropped onto the front lawn. The next time I saw this wedge of leaves was in her bed, then after I’d eaten my breakfast, she had moved it to her cushion on our 2-seater sofa. I thought I must move that after their walk… So I did. Er, it wasn’t leaves, or a dead frog, it was a mummified baby blackbird (MBBB). Petrified more like. We haven’t had any rain for weeks now, so all its life had been blanched out. Luckily, we have a sufficient supply of small red plastic bags, which come with the meat shopping in case it leaks! Anyway, I took a small saucepan, lined it with the bag, pulling it over the sides, plopped it over the MBBB, flipped the cushion, made sure it was in – ugh, and held the pan at arms length, managed to tie up the sides of the bag and plopped it on top of the waste bin outside, for Jez to look at when he got home! It made a really horrible clunk, a defining moment of definitely a dead something.

I’m not particularly superstitious, but the next day, nothing to do with Parsnip, we have a dead full-grown Crow!! It looks like it travelled into the side/corner of the house, as its trajectory is equal to that. Flat on its back with its feet in the air! It brings back horrific memories of leaning over the lounge table to see a pair of feet in the air, attached to another Black Bird, this one brought in already dead by one of our past cats. ‘Look what I found!’ Monkey said with her eyes and smug, whiskery face. We were relaxing with wine after our meal over the weekend, before I moved in, and this was not on the list of things to do! Which in turn reminded me of my first cat, Pickle, surrounded by countryside for miles on 3 sides of my parents’ house, used to leave half-eaten frogs by the back door – look before you step out, particularly if barefoot! Whole families of live Wrens! Whose only escape was the low-slung settee in the lounge, where they either perished through fright, or my Mother and I had to use a broom handle, gently probing and a dustpan, after we had removed said cat to an enclosed room! You can fit 8 baby Wrens in an average household dustpan, with the brush holding them in! The problem then was to find out where they were from and to release them, hoping with all your heart that they wouldn’t be re-found! Our Wrens around here build their nests under our eaves, but I know that they can make them low in hedges etc so…Going back to the frogs, we used to have every description of half eaten, legs only with head off, just leggs, legs munched or spat out nearby – so much for a delicacy! Remember that when you next indulge in French Cuisine!! Sorry, getting into Blog mode. Nothing like not taking your daytime medication for a couple of days to warm the creative juices!

The day after that, nothing. I am a little spooked as I read Deborah Harkness’s ‘The Black Bird Oracle ‘ for the second time. I thoroughly recommend it, but you must read the ‘Discovery of Witches’ trilogy first and ‘Time’s Out’, where you’ll learn about all the characters and their storylines. If you love history and the supernatural, and an excellent writer who knows her stuff and has an entirely different take on these subject areas, you’ll love her books.