The Sunday before last Sunday, or maybe the Sunday before it was really nice outside. The sun was out and it turned everything white blue in the sky with orange winter sun strewn onto the walls.
As I had received this beauty from Manchester Modernists, the orange went straight to my head.
My prom queen skeleton caught the sun just right on the cat scratched kitchen wall.
Vera held her own with all of her children attached to her legs.
I ventured out into the garden to look at things. It was very bright out there and I saw a spider eating a chrysalis, well sucking it, it seemed. There are no pictures of this moment.
Further on into my looking I spotted this terrible scene.
I called Daniel to come and see and he was most upset. After some pats and chatting with him about what we had discovered, he told me that it was 'a big bird what done it'. Daniel didn't see anything other than a big bird come into the garden and then it flew away. As Daniel is a prince he would never have committed such an act and he was so upset about it he hid upstairs until the time was right to tell. So after investigations and looking through our AA Book of the Countryside we think it was the Sparrowhawk. 'I believe you Daniel' I said, 'but what do we do with it?'
I was going to name the poor chap/chaplet but instead I have buried it quietly and placed the the head in a piece of tissue so that it will rot away and provide me with a lovely skull and teeths. A bit like the Man who would be King but without the crown. Daniel agrees that this is a fitting tribute to such a brave mouse, who I now think was the one that was living in the loft and chewing my Sindy caravan box. A nice end to a late night enigma of scratching, squeaking and chewing until 5am.
The fork marks the spot. I have been told that I have to leave it a few months before checking but I once dug up my dead goldfish after two days and ....