In which the Hubster shoots the house martins…
…with a camera, we’re not that bad.
So we continue to be pestered to within an inch of our lives by the House Martin Hoodies. Poor Bert lives in permanent fear of being divebombed mid-pee in the garden, and hanging out washing (the whirly is by the garage door) has become seriously dangerous territory. Walking past the garage the other day I was attacked so mercilessly and squawkily I nearly fetched me tennis racquet. Hubby couldn’t resist having a cheeky peek in the nest just to see if there really were babies in there, and yes, teeny fluffy hoodies are being groomed for thuggery right there in our garage. The final straw, though, the pièce de résistance if you will, was when the lounge window was open at the weekend and one of the little buggers actually flew in through the open window and buzzed me as I sat at my desk. Being a big cowardly girl I sat and screamed until the boys plus their very brave mate came and rescued the bloody thing and threw it back outside. And it pooed on my desk too, the little f*cker.
Jeez. I’m renaming English Towers the Hammer House of House Martin. Be afraid.
Baino: Ooh, a cockatoo sounds scary!! Hmm, these little yobs don’t seem to suffer with the magpies, they’d probably hunt them down and eat them alive in fact! x
Ma: Yes and it’s lovely again this morning. Cold wind though. I’m in danger of losing some of my seedlings (sob) x
Anyway, you get my point.
Nutty: Too true. I watched Springwatch the other night and this bloke was being set upon by Gannets! Scary.
Thrifty: Ew, birds in the house. I can just imagine the mess. Moon and Bugs used to have some evil bird that ate their wallpaper and lived on top of a bookshelf. Must remember to ask…
Tara: Er, he hasn’t seen it but probably not, thinking about it! x
Don’t believe it
’cause they speak a different language
And it’s never really happened to me
Sing along now…..