Dear Diary,
There were fisticuffs on the lawn last night. The back gate now opens into the abyss – wallabies and pademelons, all their sisters and cousins and aunts are gathering at dusk. Who knew the more daring would collect a stash of carrots each and defend them against all comers? Well, the larger ones mostly. The pademelons are fast, and sneakier to compensate for being so much smaller. It was almost necessary to call ‘time, gentlemen, time’ on the lot.
Brenda the grey shrike thrush has not been seen for about a week. Nigel is ferrying grated cheese around with a smug air – no doubt feeding her whilst she sits on eggs. Noeleen hasn’t been seen either for the last few days. Perhaps an avian menage-a-trois? Still, loosely grated mozarella will have to do, despite Nigels stated prediliction for parmesan.
Mysterious perforations are appearing in the grass. In rough circular shapes, some two inches deep; the currawongs hanging out here may be the culprits. It is unlikely to be the kookaburras – their focus is far too intent to need to make holes. There are seven large patches so far…
