The Secret.
Give me a moment of your precious time.
I want to tell you a secret.
You won’t have to wait long,
I won’t keep you in suspense.
I know, I see, I observe your breathing.
There isn’t much time to let it out
What I’ve never told before.
It won’t be a secret for long but you’ll never tell, I know.
Look closely can you see me?
Listen carefully can you hear me?
Don’t go yet I haven’t told you what I want to say,
But once I do I fear you’ll go.
Do you want to hear it?
I guess it’s not important but I need to tell you.
I love you.
I’ve only told you once then I watch you fade away
I hold you in my heart, even though you broke it
I hear you in my head.
I see you in my dreams.
Do you watch me?
Can you see me?
Never again to speak, never again to touch.
Do you remember?
I told you a secret.
My Mum died when I was 23 and I never told her I loved her until she was dying, in fact she was unconscious when I said it so I never knew if she heard me or not. I still can't believe it til this day that she is gone.
Monday, 1 September 2008
random poem
I’ll be sleeping.
You give me your heart and I’ll hold it in my hand,
You give me your soul and I’ll take it to another land.
I’ll give you my smile for you to remember,
I’ll give you my kiss so warm and so tender.
I’ll take away you pain and throw it out to sea,
I’ll take away your loneliness because now you’re next to me.
If only in my sleep can I hold you in?
Then I shall stay asleep forever.
Apart again we shall be, never.
Tell me when it’s time.
For then I’ll know that you are mine.
You give me your heart and I’ll hold it in my hand,
You give me your soul and I’ll take it to another land.
I’ll give you my smile for you to remember,
I’ll give you my kiss so warm and so tender.
I’ll take away you pain and throw it out to sea,
I’ll take away your loneliness because now you’re next to me.
If only in my sleep can I hold you in?
Then I shall stay asleep forever.
Apart again we shall be, never.
Tell me when it’s time.
For then I’ll know that you are mine.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Life's too short.
I know more than anyone that life is too short since working as a nurse shows the harsh reality that life can deal and we have to enjoy ourselves while we can. But to what extent? To what cost?
Do we go mad and drink and be merry as much as we want. Do we enjoy our food so much we become porkers and get heart disease where life would be too short! Then comes the battle of the bulge and the constant dieting and feeling like a failure and being pissed off coz everyone else is eating and I can't.
We want that thing in the shop so badly but it's really expensive but bugger it pay day is only 2 weeks away and you really really want it. Then your credit card bill comes and you realise that your pay packet won't stretch so far and that brings money worries.
For years I lived like everyday was my last, especially since my Mum died when I was 23 at the tender age of 44 and I wanted to get the most out of life as I could, but to my detriment. I went mental and did things I probably wouldn't have done had I not lost her. Or maybe I would have? Who knows. I'll never know.
But it was like a red rag to a bull. My mates probably went a bit mad too, one in particular I know for a fact went bonkers. But I did things I'm not proud of and I cringe about now when I think about it but I think that's also probably part of growing up. But even in recent years I think lets do things now before it's too late. I rush head long into things and don't think about the consequences or I think sod it and do it anyway!!
Maybe that's just me and nothing to do with 'life's too short'???
One thing I do know is I do use it as an excuse too many times and I shouldn't really because I should be more responsible!! If I perhaps did act more realistically I could still enjoy myself and have a great time (and not suffer the hang overs too much!) perhaps then I wouldn't need to use the excuse 'lifes too short' anyway and my waist would be slimmer and my bank balance healthier and maybe Heath would still be alive :-(
Do we go mad and drink and be merry as much as we want. Do we enjoy our food so much we become porkers and get heart disease where life would be too short! Then comes the battle of the bulge and the constant dieting and feeling like a failure and being pissed off coz everyone else is eating and I can't.
We want that thing in the shop so badly but it's really expensive but bugger it pay day is only 2 weeks away and you really really want it. Then your credit card bill comes and you realise that your pay packet won't stretch so far and that brings money worries.
For years I lived like everyday was my last, especially since my Mum died when I was 23 at the tender age of 44 and I wanted to get the most out of life as I could, but to my detriment. I went mental and did things I probably wouldn't have done had I not lost her. Or maybe I would have? Who knows. I'll never know.
But it was like a red rag to a bull. My mates probably went a bit mad too, one in particular I know for a fact went bonkers. But I did things I'm not proud of and I cringe about now when I think about it but I think that's also probably part of growing up. But even in recent years I think lets do things now before it's too late. I rush head long into things and don't think about the consequences or I think sod it and do it anyway!!
Maybe that's just me and nothing to do with 'life's too short'???
One thing I do know is I do use it as an excuse too many times and I shouldn't really because I should be more responsible!! If I perhaps did act more realistically I could still enjoy myself and have a great time (and not suffer the hang overs too much!) perhaps then I wouldn't need to use the excuse 'lifes too short' anyway and my waist would be slimmer and my bank balance healthier and maybe Heath would still be alive :-(
Thursday, 28 August 2008
lazy buggers and bad manners
I absolutely hate people who will not help themselves when they can. It's a real bug bear of mine. I was reading in the paper today in IKEA (has anyone out there every been to ikea and spent under £50???!!!) over a cup of free coffee(if you have one of those family card things coffee is free!!). It tells me that '1 in 7 children in Britain live in a household where no-one works' I can't bloody believe it. I can believe that those stastitics involve single parents where it's bloomin hard working for a minimum wage and having to pay for child care. However how many single parents work harder to better themselves to make a life for their kids?
I work a job that I am fortunate enough to have the time off to walk my child to school and back but it does mean I miss out on valuable sleep but that's the price I pay in order to be there for my child. I'm fortunate enough to have a job that pays quite well but what if it was only minimal wage? I guess I could still do it but I wouldn't have too much money and I'm the bread winner as well at times so for the hours I work I am fortunate enough to bring in fair amounts.
I'm not fortunate enough that my husband doesn't earn enough for me to stay at home and do what I like but think I may well go mad (madder) than if I didn't work. Working affords me contact with colleagues and have a chat and care for people. I think if I didn't go to work I wouldn't have that social contact. That would be weird as I'm a very social person.
I have been out of work before I became a nurse so I know what it is like to be looking and turned down time after time and then work for a pittance. One job I had didn't even cover the cost of petrol to get there and back. But I dare not work as mum would have gone mad!!
I was brought up to have a work ethic so why haven't these people in this country also? The majority of the UK was working class a few years ago but even the 'lower' classes worked menial jobs. If they didn't their family went hungry. But we don't have to worry about that now. We only have to worry about the fact they are going to become fat coz they've been brought up on iceland food and sugar while they're parents use their 'benefits' to buy fags and beer because they need they to help with the 'stress'.
These people drive me mad they are the ones that can work and just can't be arsed. They plead 'depression' or 'back pain'. When the people who really are suffering from those conditions are genuine it gives them a bad name. It's incredibly hard to get permenant benefits for having long term conditions so how on earth do these 'fakers' pull it off? Maybe they are good liers and don't feel guilty about lying. But how can they live with themselves?
These people are probably from the same mould as the people who don't wear seatbelts!!!
Obesity is another reason some people can't work these days. They blame their knees or their backs for the problem. Some of them ride round in those motorized scooters. And continue to do nothing about their 'problem' but perpetuate it. His nbs said yesterday that he didn't remember seeing so many fat people about. At school obese kids were in the minority and now they seem to be in the majority.
It also seems as a nurse that people won't look after themselves but wait 'til things go wrong before people will do something about it or they expect the NHS to pick up the pieces and mend them only for them to go out and carry on with their lives as they have done before and change nothing. Maybe people have always been like this. I just haven't noticed it?
I saw a programme where parents were told 'your child is fat' and they protested at the horror and 'how dare you say that' but the softly softly approach does not work as the parents themselves confirmed. They had been to several 'specialists' and told different things about their childs weight problem when in actual fact it is the fact that the child eats shite and their parents over feed them and they don't do any exercise and give in to them when they pester for shite food all the time. When I was a kid we would get a ten pee mix on a friday at grannys and a packet of crisps if we were lucky. We were never allowed lemonade (magic water) or even matey (because it was too expensive!) but my daughter has her own cupboard at my grans and it overflows with cakes/biscuits etc. I know that's what grannies are for but apart from the fact it makes her bonkers she won't then eat properly and it causes such a nightmare.
I must admit I used to be skinny and am sadly not any more but I'm trying to do something about it because I need to practice what I preach and it is hard. Food is accessible and it's not like a alcoholic who can avoid bars and pubs or a smoker who avoids other smokers. People eat all the time and if we go out for the day and eat out I bloody well refuse to pay 6 or 7 quid for a bloody salad!!!!
I understand why people use drink and drugs to relieve pain/depression/emotional anguish but surely as an adult the consequences are known so therefore why do it? Why smoke in front of your kids when you know what it can do to them? I heard one women say on the radio that no-one has the right to tell her where and when and in front of who she could smoke but at last non-smokers have some rights. It's much nicer to go in a pub and not come out stinking. Smokers have had the upper hand for a long time why can't non smokers have it? That's another debate.
I am self righteous I know but I'm not perfect. I will always do as I say. I will try my best and work hard and I have good morals and manners. Does that make me a bad person? Does it make me a bad person that I don't want my daughter brought up in an area where parents shout and swear at each other when the kids fall out and the kids don't get disciplined for bad behaviour, where the kids smoke and spit and swear (and even shag) before they are 12 and that it's ok to live off the state if you want?
Britain used to be poor but we never had such lazy buggers and bad manners as we do now. The country and the people don't owe these people a life, a living or or indeed anything. These people owe the country and the rest of the tax payers something, a contribution however small. Sadly the waster Mick Philpot comes from Derby and I see him in his NEW minibus everyday taking his kids to school (not his local one I might add oh no he uses his petrol to drive them to a school near us) this guy does not work and has about 18 kids, how the bloody hell does he afford a new minibus???
I cannot bear these types of people and I hope something (like alien invasion giving them a lobotomy) will happen in the near future before this country really does go to the dogs.
I work a job that I am fortunate enough to have the time off to walk my child to school and back but it does mean I miss out on valuable sleep but that's the price I pay in order to be there for my child. I'm fortunate enough to have a job that pays quite well but what if it was only minimal wage? I guess I could still do it but I wouldn't have too much money and I'm the bread winner as well at times so for the hours I work I am fortunate enough to bring in fair amounts.
I'm not fortunate enough that my husband doesn't earn enough for me to stay at home and do what I like but think I may well go mad (madder) than if I didn't work. Working affords me contact with colleagues and have a chat and care for people. I think if I didn't go to work I wouldn't have that social contact. That would be weird as I'm a very social person.
I have been out of work before I became a nurse so I know what it is like to be looking and turned down time after time and then work for a pittance. One job I had didn't even cover the cost of petrol to get there and back. But I dare not work as mum would have gone mad!!
I was brought up to have a work ethic so why haven't these people in this country also? The majority of the UK was working class a few years ago but even the 'lower' classes worked menial jobs. If they didn't their family went hungry. But we don't have to worry about that now. We only have to worry about the fact they are going to become fat coz they've been brought up on iceland food and sugar while they're parents use their 'benefits' to buy fags and beer because they need they to help with the 'stress'.
These people drive me mad they are the ones that can work and just can't be arsed. They plead 'depression' or 'back pain'. When the people who really are suffering from those conditions are genuine it gives them a bad name. It's incredibly hard to get permenant benefits for having long term conditions so how on earth do these 'fakers' pull it off? Maybe they are good liers and don't feel guilty about lying. But how can they live with themselves?
These people are probably from the same mould as the people who don't wear seatbelts!!!
Obesity is another reason some people can't work these days. They blame their knees or their backs for the problem. Some of them ride round in those motorized scooters. And continue to do nothing about their 'problem' but perpetuate it. His nbs said yesterday that he didn't remember seeing so many fat people about. At school obese kids were in the minority and now they seem to be in the majority.
It also seems as a nurse that people won't look after themselves but wait 'til things go wrong before people will do something about it or they expect the NHS to pick up the pieces and mend them only for them to go out and carry on with their lives as they have done before and change nothing. Maybe people have always been like this. I just haven't noticed it?
I saw a programme where parents were told 'your child is fat' and they protested at the horror and 'how dare you say that' but the softly softly approach does not work as the parents themselves confirmed. They had been to several 'specialists' and told different things about their childs weight problem when in actual fact it is the fact that the child eats shite and their parents over feed them and they don't do any exercise and give in to them when they pester for shite food all the time. When I was a kid we would get a ten pee mix on a friday at grannys and a packet of crisps if we were lucky. We were never allowed lemonade (magic water) or even matey (because it was too expensive!) but my daughter has her own cupboard at my grans and it overflows with cakes/biscuits etc. I know that's what grannies are for but apart from the fact it makes her bonkers she won't then eat properly and it causes such a nightmare.
I must admit I used to be skinny and am sadly not any more but I'm trying to do something about it because I need to practice what I preach and it is hard. Food is accessible and it's not like a alcoholic who can avoid bars and pubs or a smoker who avoids other smokers. People eat all the time and if we go out for the day and eat out I bloody well refuse to pay 6 or 7 quid for a bloody salad!!!!
I understand why people use drink and drugs to relieve pain/depression/emotional anguish but surely as an adult the consequences are known so therefore why do it? Why smoke in front of your kids when you know what it can do to them? I heard one women say on the radio that no-one has the right to tell her where and when and in front of who she could smoke but at last non-smokers have some rights. It's much nicer to go in a pub and not come out stinking. Smokers have had the upper hand for a long time why can't non smokers have it? That's another debate.
I am self righteous I know but I'm not perfect. I will always do as I say. I will try my best and work hard and I have good morals and manners. Does that make me a bad person? Does it make me a bad person that I don't want my daughter brought up in an area where parents shout and swear at each other when the kids fall out and the kids don't get disciplined for bad behaviour, where the kids smoke and spit and swear (and even shag) before they are 12 and that it's ok to live off the state if you want?
Britain used to be poor but we never had such lazy buggers and bad manners as we do now. The country and the people don't owe these people a life, a living or or indeed anything. These people owe the country and the rest of the tax payers something, a contribution however small. Sadly the waster Mick Philpot comes from Derby and I see him in his NEW minibus everyday taking his kids to school (not his local one I might add oh no he uses his petrol to drive them to a school near us) this guy does not work and has about 18 kids, how the bloody hell does he afford a new minibus???
I cannot bear these types of people and I hope something (like alien invasion giving them a lobotomy) will happen in the near future before this country really does go to the dogs.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
new words and nattering
I don't work too often and sometimes I don't see people for ages so when we do get together we have or try to have a good old natter which sometimes can lead to trouble and sometimes leads to gaining knowledge and learning new words.
With regard to anttering leading to trouble, one particular night we were being a bit raucous and naughty and one of the crew wasn't best pleased with how we were acting or in particular what i was saying. So 2 weeks later I was told by this person that she wasn't too impressed with me and that I was very unprofessional. Fair enough each to their own. But what I was wondering was when did this person decide to have a word? After 2 weeks thinking about it, was it eating her up at home? was it really that important that it needed mentioning? Do most people go home after a shift and stew on something that has been said? I know I do. And usually it means nothing and we go home or away from that person or event and stew over it and blow it out of proportion and make it all seem a whole lot worse that it was in the first place and make life harder for ourselves. I don't mean to belittle the person who thought I was in the wrong but maybe it wasn't as bad as they originally thought it was. Maybe half the time we should just let things go? otherwise our feelings and what we say just makes things/relations worse????
Why then do some people have the ability not to do that? Some people can just let it ride out and nothing bothers them or is it that they don't experience things that bother them? Not really sure. As it happens on this particular incidence it was suggested I should know better (true) and perhaps I wasn't being a very good influence to a particular member of staff, as she was reasonably new to the unit. How not true is that (you know who you are!!) and she's a very naughty lady who doesn't need any encouragement to be naughty!!!!
I digress. One particular night not so long ago we were all sitting nattering. It wasn't particularly busy so we were catching up on paper work and going over a new computer system (and I learnt something new which was very handy) and one of the girls was doing something with her patient. We saw her on the side of the unit with no patients on in the dark riffling through the draws and we asked her what she was up to. She turned around and said she couldn't find 'a twatting spigot' well we just creased up. No-one made a move to help the poor girl we just couldn't help ourselves with laughter. 'Twatting' what an excellent word. It sounded so good coming from this particular girl as well. I'd heard it before of course as in 'twatting around' but not when used with an inanimate object.
Some nurses are naughty and indeed we don't need any encouragement to be naughty. But I think sometimes we can't take ourselves too seriously considering the job we do and the stuff we see. So I think some twatting about is the order of the day. Laughter is indeed the best medicine.
With regard to anttering leading to trouble, one particular night we were being a bit raucous and naughty and one of the crew wasn't best pleased with how we were acting or in particular what i was saying. So 2 weeks later I was told by this person that she wasn't too impressed with me and that I was very unprofessional. Fair enough each to their own. But what I was wondering was when did this person decide to have a word? After 2 weeks thinking about it, was it eating her up at home? was it really that important that it needed mentioning? Do most people go home after a shift and stew on something that has been said? I know I do. And usually it means nothing and we go home or away from that person or event and stew over it and blow it out of proportion and make it all seem a whole lot worse that it was in the first place and make life harder for ourselves. I don't mean to belittle the person who thought I was in the wrong but maybe it wasn't as bad as they originally thought it was. Maybe half the time we should just let things go? otherwise our feelings and what we say just makes things/relations worse????
Why then do some people have the ability not to do that? Some people can just let it ride out and nothing bothers them or is it that they don't experience things that bother them? Not really sure. As it happens on this particular incidence it was suggested I should know better (true) and perhaps I wasn't being a very good influence to a particular member of staff, as she was reasonably new to the unit. How not true is that (you know who you are!!) and she's a very naughty lady who doesn't need any encouragement to be naughty!!!!
I digress. One particular night not so long ago we were all sitting nattering. It wasn't particularly busy so we were catching up on paper work and going over a new computer system (and I learnt something new which was very handy) and one of the girls was doing something with her patient. We saw her on the side of the unit with no patients on in the dark riffling through the draws and we asked her what she was up to. She turned around and said she couldn't find 'a twatting spigot' well we just creased up. No-one made a move to help the poor girl we just couldn't help ourselves with laughter. 'Twatting' what an excellent word. It sounded so good coming from this particular girl as well. I'd heard it before of course as in 'twatting around' but not when used with an inanimate object.
Some nurses are naughty and indeed we don't need any encouragement to be naughty. But I think sometimes we can't take ourselves too seriously considering the job we do and the stuff we see. So I think some twatting about is the order of the day. Laughter is indeed the best medicine.
Xbox shannigans
This morning I had my instructions to stay in until his nibs' precious x box was redelivered (redelivered because I went out friday and forgot it was coming his nibs was not happy!). It got to one o'clock and I'm just about managing to amuse myself and the phone rings. It's UPS and they have Bruces parcel there waiting collection. He apparently rang UPS friday after he realised it hadn't been delivered and said he would collect it saturday but forgot he was working saturday so rang back to say never mind what he just said deliver it tuesday as planned, hence me having to stay in.....
So i tear Hope away from her mates with the promise of a happy meal and after half an hour of trying to get out the door (Hope won't get changed, one of her friends can't find her top as they've been wearing Hopes play outfits and the other one can't find her shoes and is mad coz Hope says she won't call for her when she gets back so pushes Hope over and Hope starts crying.....) we finally get in the car for the 13 or so mile journey to the UPS depot. I have taken my driving license and bill but forgotten to take the tracking number so the bloke at the depot can't find it. I have visions of having to wait in another day or having to come back again and am not best pleased.
My hero at the depot does however find the offending package but i think i might string his nibs along a bit and when he rings me to see if his precious baby has been safely retrieved I say (without laughing) that they couldn't find it and I may have to come back as the parcel may be on the truck for redelivery etc etc and I'm stringing him along nicely when Hope pipes up. 'Mum what are you talking about? you've got the xbox already it's under your arm!'
Big mouth.
So i tear Hope away from her mates with the promise of a happy meal and after half an hour of trying to get out the door (Hope won't get changed, one of her friends can't find her top as they've been wearing Hopes play outfits and the other one can't find her shoes and is mad coz Hope says she won't call for her when she gets back so pushes Hope over and Hope starts crying.....) we finally get in the car for the 13 or so mile journey to the UPS depot. I have taken my driving license and bill but forgotten to take the tracking number so the bloke at the depot can't find it. I have visions of having to wait in another day or having to come back again and am not best pleased.
My hero at the depot does however find the offending package but i think i might string his nibs along a bit and when he rings me to see if his precious baby has been safely retrieved I say (without laughing) that they couldn't find it and I may have to come back as the parcel may be on the truck for redelivery etc etc and I'm stringing him along nicely when Hope pipes up. 'Mum what are you talking about? you've got the xbox already it's under your arm!'
Big mouth.
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
fooking rabbit
I'm a bit of a sucker for animals and we started off with 2 kittens, one bogged off haven't seen her for years when she was about 2 and one sadly died. When chip died we went to the cats protection and got a rescue cat, Hamish. In between we got a puppy, which I've always wanted. I called her Trump because I found the name in the book about Parsons terriers and also my auntiy said 'you can't call her that' so I did.
I had a desire for chickens so we got some rescue chickens. In a suburban garden with very little room thats not a good idea, however the eggs were a bonus but having a stinking cess pit at the end of the garden wasn't fun and I felt a bit sorry for them being in inches of sludge so I let them out. Freedom. Hens like to scratch don't they? yep there goes the lawn.
One by one the rescued battery hens popped their clogs and so the chicken pen was redundant. Then mother (thats me) decides to get a couple of guinea pigs. Along comes spike and woolley. Cute little guinea pigs. They were in the house for a time but when they got big enough they went in the garden where the chickens used to be. The neighbours also said they could have their rabbit so I stupidly said yes. What trouble could a rabbit be?
Her name is or was sophie but we renamed her Primrose, how ironic. The fence around the pen is about 2 foot high if that. She kept jumping over it. So I extended it using trellis and netting. She gets under the netting and out. I've just spent about 10 or 15 quid on primroses to adorn the drab garden after winter (and yet another shite summer the year before)and the wee shite scoffs all the beautiful flowers. I'm gutted. Now you may think thats a bit harse to be gutted over some flowers but I wouldn't go the asda or wherever and spend 10-15 quid on cabages for the little furry friends to eat now would I? The most they would ever get is perhaps a cheapo cucumber or some greens if they are lucky.
There is also Hopes plastic wendy house in the pen and we had to shut the door as the rabbit was in there digging an escape to next door but then we found out it was jumping through the little holes in the doors so Bruce had to load the holes up with wood to stop it getting into the wendy house. What a bloody palava. The end of the garden looks like Alcatraz.
There is also a little sliding gate in the pen which I use to get in and out to clean out and stuff I put half an old fire guard leant up against the small sliding gate to stop the rabbit jumping over that. But it found a really small gap and proceeded to get through there too. I had had it with the wabbit. The final straw was when it ate a gladiolii I had planted as a bulb last year that my dad gave me and waited all year for it to bloom. It was nearly there and everyday I would check it's progress in anticipation of what colour it was going to be (I don't get out much). One morning the rabbit had escaped again and the gladiolii had been scoffed. That was it.
I had a desire for chickens so we got some rescue chickens. In a suburban garden with very little room thats not a good idea, however the eggs were a bonus but having a stinking cess pit at the end of the garden wasn't fun and I felt a bit sorry for them being in inches of sludge so I let them out. Freedom. Hens like to scratch don't they? yep there goes the lawn.
One by one the rescued battery hens popped their clogs and so the chicken pen was redundant. Then mother (thats me) decides to get a couple of guinea pigs. Along comes spike and woolley. Cute little guinea pigs. They were in the house for a time but when they got big enough they went in the garden where the chickens used to be. The neighbours also said they could have their rabbit so I stupidly said yes. What trouble could a rabbit be?
Her name is or was sophie but we renamed her Primrose, how ironic. The fence around the pen is about 2 foot high if that. She kept jumping over it. So I extended it using trellis and netting. She gets under the netting and out. I've just spent about 10 or 15 quid on primroses to adorn the drab garden after winter (and yet another shite summer the year before)and the wee shite scoffs all the beautiful flowers. I'm gutted. Now you may think thats a bit harse to be gutted over some flowers but I wouldn't go the asda or wherever and spend 10-15 quid on cabages for the little furry friends to eat now would I? The most they would ever get is perhaps a cheapo cucumber or some greens if they are lucky.
There is also Hopes plastic wendy house in the pen and we had to shut the door as the rabbit was in there digging an escape to next door but then we found out it was jumping through the little holes in the doors so Bruce had to load the holes up with wood to stop it getting into the wendy house. What a bloody palava. The end of the garden looks like Alcatraz.
There is also a little sliding gate in the pen which I use to get in and out to clean out and stuff I put half an old fire guard leant up against the small sliding gate to stop the rabbit jumping over that. But it found a really small gap and proceeded to get through there too. I had had it with the wabbit. The final straw was when it ate a gladiolii I had planted as a bulb last year that my dad gave me and waited all year for it to bloom. It was nearly there and everyday I would check it's progress in anticipation of what colour it was going to be (I don't get out much). One morning the rabbit had escaped again and the gladiolii had been scoffed. That was it.
So I shipped it off to grans 150 or so foot garden. Loads of space, loads of long grass to hide in. You give a creature a bit of freedom and it just takes the piss eh? because this pesky rabbit wasn't content with my grans 150 foot garden oh no it wanted next doors 150 foot garden.
The son of the house catches it to protect it from the cat and gives it us back!!! So I take it back home again back to the pen. A few days later, in the pen, I see what looks like a bag full of hardcore dumped in there. I am confused? who in gods name put that there?
I ask his nibs if he knows anything about it and he doesn't so I start locking the gate thinking some chav has been in and dumped it, some considerate chav though because it's laid out all level not just in a pile!
Next time I'm in the pen cleaning the wretched creature out I found a hole behind the hutch with hardcore debris at the entrance so I have a gander into the hole which is only about 3 inches by 6 inches and the 2 foot long spade I'm using to clean out the hutch with I delve into the hole and it disappears and so does half my arm. I swing the spade side to side and it comes into contact with earth about 10 or so inches apart. The wee shite has been playing bunny 'the great escape' under the path!!
I used to be a devout veggie and animal activist but am thinking bunny pie might be quite nice!!
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