Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: full. Weather: a sun shower at midday with a bonus rainbow.
Steve went to lay an egg in the nest under the big boxthorn bush today – she already had five there – but she came back to say that they’d all been broken and eaten by rats. Now she’s pacing around in a panic trying to decide where to safely lay the next lot. I suggested the nest box – you know, just for a lark – and she looked at me like I was loopy.
I had another surge of anti slater inspiration last night, how about this:
Slater limerick by Ruby
There was an old slater from here
Who wanted to live over there.
So with a whistle and a song
He bumbled along,
Till I squished him and made him disappear.
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