Ratty Tales

I don’t know about you, but mowing the lawn over the last few weeks has made me feel decidedly ratty. Throughout our long, hot summer, the lawn barely grew, but we’ve had much needed rain since then. Even with my mower raised to its highest setting, it wasn’t long before the motor was struggling, making alarming whirring noises. A quick inspection revealed that the blades were trying their hardest to make their way through thick clods of grass, wedged in the underside of the mower. From then on, it was just a case of stopping every few minutes to scrape the wet grass out, before setting off again. This tedious process took me even longer than it should, because I’m paranoid about losing my fingers (not an unreasonable fear). There are several inbuilt safety features that make this impossible, but I still have to check and double-check before going anywhere near the blades, just in case an invisible being has come along, re-engaged the safety catch and activated the 2 buttons on the handles simultaneously, without me noticing. Usually one fully charged battery is more than enough for one lawn cutting, but recently I’ve needed to move on to the ‘spare’ – I’ve named it Harry. The other issue with sodden grass is it weighs a lot more than the dry variety, and takes up more space in my pop up garden trugs. No matter though – GR has his uses – he can lift heavy things and I think I’ve mentioned before, he’s a dab hand with a sledge hammer when it comes to compacting garden waste into the wheelie bin.

Anyway, feeling ratty after the last mow, I popped into the kitchen to make myself a well deserved cup of tea. Waiting for the kettle to boil I looked out at the garden and tried to convince myself it had all been worth it. I spied what I thought was a squirrel in one of my exorbitantly expensive squirrel proof bird feeders. Now my eye sight leaves a lot to be desired, but as I squinted, it dawned on me there was a distinct absence of a fluffy tail. Horror of horrors, it was a rat! I raced out with Lily – she seemed oblivious – had it been a squirrel she would have seen it off in no uncertain terms. The rat remained in situ, happily munching away. Even when I approached it, brandishing a 7 foot long washing line prop, it took its time, before casually dismounting the bird feeder and disappearing down a rat hole in my border. I found 2 rat holes, so I filled them in and kept watch over the next couple of days. Ratty returned, sometimes climbing up the bird feeder pole, sometimes jumping from the fence onto the feeders. I tried greasing the pole, but Ratty must have non slip paws. I’ve moved the feeder away from the fence, into the middle of the lawn, so unless Ratty is an Olympic standard long-jumper, or a champion tight rope walker, he won’t be able to jump from anywhere onto the top. I’ve also bought a baffle, which once installed, will prevent access from below. It does mean a bit of inconvenience when it comes to future grass cutting though, because I’ll have to lift the cage that protects ground feeding birds, in order to strim round the pole. I hope the birds appreciate the trouble and expense I’ve been to on their behalf!