It's a great blessing of where we live that there is so much wildlife around. Badgers, deer, foxes, rabbits and squirrels (not red, sadly) make their home nearby. Some folk have even reported the Beast of Brighouse just a short distance away. If such a thing exists it must have been in our woods, perfect lair for it.
I've complained in the past about something digging a big hole in the veg patch, but really I wouldn't be without our animals. They can't go to Tesco.
Little did I expect, however, the latest intruder. Surveying the plot this morning, I found a spent firework. Twas a rocket, no doubt from the organised display held near us last night.
It put me in mind of when I was a lad and your dad nailed Catherine wheels to the shed door and let off those crazy aeroplane fireworks that darted in all directions. Ah, happy days! We survived. Mind you, I'm glad I became a dad after they tightened up on these things and banned them. I'd have been the first to be got.
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