Sunday, 11 April 2010

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death...

... I fear no evil, because I am the most evil bastard in the Valley.

Those words of John Lennon are just a prelude to the real point of this post, which is that tonight - for the first time this year - our really positive sign of summer has arrived. Bats outside our kitchen window, right here in the middle of Bath - never mind your daffodils.

The weather suddenly got warm 2 days ago, and the insects came out, closely followed by the bats. We are lucky enough to have - possibly - one of the widest species range of the winged mammals in this area, in such a small area, and I love them.

As with my attitude to other children of the night (in the words of Bella Lugosi), I have a healthy respect for them, but only on a rational basis. Whenever I have to handle them (which has happened a few times over the years) I wear thick, leather gloves. The ones which fly over the water to Britain from Cro's part of the world, often carry rabies with them. A few years ago, a woman died of the terrible disease having been bitten by one, whilst trying to do it a favour.

This is where the stories about vampires come from - an epidemic of rabies around Eastern Europe. The sympmtoms? Mad, staring eyes, fear of water, frothing at the mouth like an animal all night, etc, etc. Sounds familiar?

Vlad the Impaler didn't help either. Another claim to fame of mine is that I have an ex girlfriend who is a direct descendant of Vlad - as is the Queen of England, Gawd bless her.


  1. Lady Magnon recently rescued a mouse from the jaws of Freddie, our cat. It thanked her in the only way it knew how; it bit her finger!

    Kindness is not always rewarded correctly. The gift of a Champage glass would have been prefered.

  2. I can see I'm not going to hear the last of this until I send you another one. Send me your postal address and I'll send you an equivalent. No good deed goes unpunished...

  3. We would like to donate our non-prize to your local 'widows and orphans home'. Orphans, especially, drink a lot of Champagne, and a lot of widows make it.

  4. Ouch! You bitch!

    She's still locked into the cottage, Cro. I'm a bit worried.