Batten down the hatches...

After weeks of freak endless crisp sunshine, the weather has turned wet and windy and, according to the BBC, a meteorological Armageddon is due to strike Scotland on Wednesday. Undeterred, the spouse and I got on the ferry and are now cosily ensconced in the Buteshack with a plentiful supply of cava and Extremely Chocolatey Mini Rolls. It’s his birthday this week and although he’s not saying anything, I know he’ll be hoping that I come up with something better than last year’s makeshift present of the wishbone from the chicken wrapped up in a handmade card fashioned from the ‘Police on Patrol’ page of The Buteman. The wishbone didn’t even work, apparently.

There has been lots of loud hammering going on upstairs since we arrived, but as long as the jackdaws in the attic don’t have access to any power tools, I think we’re safe. Our friends the mice seem to have completely vanished, and the spouse is proudly claiming the credit since installing his plug-in sonic rodent deterrent. I’m a little more sceptical of the £9.99 device, which emits an unverifiable sound outwith the range of human hearing. I could just plug the radio in and get the same result and it wouldn’t cost us a penny.

It reminds me of an old joke which goes something like this:

Two men are on a train and one of them is rolling up little bits of newspaper into balls and throwing them out the window onto the track.

Man 1: “Why are you rolling newspaper up into balls and throwing them out the window?”

Man 2: “To keep elephants off the track.”

Man 1: “But there aren’t any elephants on the track”

Man 2: “I know, it works really well doesn’t it.”

Contrary to the spouse’s claims for his sonic device, the real reason for the mice’s departure is that they have run out of practical jokes to play on us and have gone to gnaw through the brake cables on a few mobility scooters up the road instead.

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