Tag Archives: rat

Lessons & time

Everything that happens in life is a lesson!

Well that is what has been told to me time and time again by various people of all walks of life and I sit and I wonder, well, what am I learning from what I do?

What can be learnt from sitting down three hours per day skipping between three YouTube Livestreams of nesting birds? 

What can I learn from watching a solitary albatross chick pulling grass on the edge of his nest, ducking from incoming adults of neighbouring nests as they land?

What am I learning from watching five little owlets being fed rats by its parent in a dingy dirty owl box in Florida?

What am I learning from watching Osprey pulling apart fishes given to her by her mate to feed her two little chicks?

What am I learning by scrolling through various female artists throughout history?  Especially when I can never remember their names or the names of the pieces of their art?

What am I learning from collaging bits of paper onto a canvas and then painting the edges of it?

What am I learning when I am laying down staring out the window cloud gazing?

If everything that happens to me in life is a lesson, then what am I learning from everything that I do?

Somethings don’t make any sense to me, other things are very clear – but not the so-called mundane things of sitting and watching or just sitting and thinking; the most nonsensical thing about my life is how often I sit down and imagine conversations I want to have with people dead or alive, or imagine creatures or people having lives within stories I’ve made.  I understand that imagination makes me productive when I use it to make stories, but what exactly is its lesson when I am more or less making it up as I go along?

The lessons I have understood and learned, yet still appear to be a student of nonetheless, which must mean I’ve not entirely grasped them yet are these…

Dropping food I am eating – I have presumed the lessons here are;

Don’t take anything for granted

Be grateful for what you eat

Don’t eat so much

Yet I still appear to need to learn that lesson – not that I am in the habit of dropping food on the floor, but you get my drift?

I’m bored and philosophical right now, so I am coming out with a load of crap – but its thought provoking nonetheless and I do waste oodles of time thinking such things!

When I was little my grandmother said there is a very good reason why we drop food or spill drinks and it is to do with the fairy folk around us!

I asked her… what fairy folk make us become slobs?

She tutted and swiped at me and said, no silly – when we drop food or drink we’re to remember not to forget the fairy folk and give them an offering – it’s a kind of magic where we get accident prone with food and drink because it’s a sign they’re hungry or thirsty and feels neglected by us!

At the moment I am inclined to believe this house has a fairy who is particularly fond of sausages, because Henry is constantly dropping his and Paul has been known to drop them whilst serving them on plates too… so whatever fairy we have in our house sure is a sausage lover!

We used to leave offerings out for the fairy every night but we’ve got a rodent problem right now so can’t.  People have become very accident prone at dinner ever since.

My grandma would say (if she were still around, bless her) that it will only get worse till we make an offering.

But we really can’t right now!

I have been thinking about playing my recorder in the dining room to see if the rat will think I am the Pied Piper of Hamlin and follow me dancing out the door, or whether or not that idea is completely ludicrous, a waste of time and liable to get me called weirdo by Paul again.

It’s irritating having a rat, especially when you live with someone so jumpy and fearful of the things.

It’s tried eating the window to get out at night – our window frames are wood, there are gnaw marks all along it, I said to Paul unless you’ve got a spare 15k I suggest you try to flush the rat out because we’re going to lose our window!

The terror immediately hit Paul and he plans in a couple of days he will try and get rid of it, it’s always in a couple of days though with him on everything.  It’s been a couple of days since summer of 2016 that he promised to fix the shower… it’s been a couple of days since 2017 to finish painting the living room green… my goodness I feel immortal right now, a God… 800 million years is a day isn’t it to God?

They said he made the world in 6 days and rested on the 7th, which means according to science this planet is approximately 4.6 billion years old meaning a day is around 800 million years, so I have to presumably wait 1.6 billion years for him to do it?  Because I am pretty sure he is not using Earth human mortal dates here!

I have the strangest life.

Never mind.

Thanks for reading!

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Have I lost mine?

When fate tries to protect you

Rat poison goes missing

When the universe tries to buck you up

The glass you dropped doesn’t break and give you razors

When people see you are down

They give you false promises just to cheer you up for the moment

When the sky is cloudy

There is the tease of the sun in a small hole in the sky

When you try to be alone to cry

Someone finds you and needs a hug

When you smell a rat

There is a slight smell of candied apples behind it

Can you trust your senses at all?

Have I lost mine?

Written 8:57pm 28th February 2023

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Art and Octopuses

I don’t know why on the 3rd March 2023 around two to three in the morning I became transfixed with writing poetry and flash fiction based on octopuses, but I do know one thing…

I am really good at painting octopuses!

I don’t really know why I wanted to share this; I am writing this after writing the flash fiction story called “A boy’s unconscious battle”. 

I feel like painting the scene in my mind right now, but we all know why that can’t happen right now.  No available art table and I am not too keen to go downstairs within ten feet of a rat to paint at near four in the morning when its freezing cold downstairs and Ray (my house rabbit) will have a temper tantrum throughout the whole painting session because I am disturbing him at an unholy hour and please turn out the light you selfish human!

Rightly so too!

If I could have painted I know what the scene would look like.

My son Henry twisted in his blankets like how I saw him tonight, surrounded by his sea of teddy bears fallen around him in what looked like their attempt to try and free him from the onslaught of sheet tentacles around his hips and arms, Henry’s legs and arms all over the place too – he didn’t look very comfortable.  A pillow on the floor and chewing in his sleep – he was talking about different flavours of gum moments before he slept.

It would have been fun to have painted it, at least six hours as it would be a complicated piece for me, a mix of ink and watercolours.

Thanks for reading…

Written 3:19am 3rd March 2023

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Diary of a damned rat

My post “Damned Rat” is a diary entry.

That’s how my day went yesterday.

We’ve got a damned rat, in fact everyone in our terrace block has; it’s a new thing – we never had rats before.  They came to live with us because our neighbour at the bottom of the block has chickens in their garden and they store hay, flour and grains in their attic.

It wouldn’t be so bad, but considering four out of ten rooms of our house is pack rats haven its murder trying to find the rat – or rather it is difficult to find the rat to murder it.

The rat situation has kept me up until 7am because I can sense Paul’s fear in the other room. 

I managed to sleep, only for an hour later to be woken up with a panicking shouting Paul about how the rat has eaten its way through our main water pipe and there is a flood in our kitchen and how this could potentially put us in debt by £500 again.  Thankfully it was a false alarm, the rat didn’t do it – it was innocent, or as innocent as a rat can be that is.

I was like a zombie, I tried to go back to sleep when Paul took Henry to town to buy guillotine traps as an act of vengeance for the succulent plants I had, which the rat destroyed in its attempt of a feast.

I nurtured them from cuttings for years.

Cyril is our lemon tree, which will be next no doubt, it’s the only vegetation in the house that the rat could eat next, we can’t move it, and he is in a 50 litre pot and is around 4ft tall.

I don’t think we will laugh about this tomorrow, personally.

So yes, that prose was more or less biographical.

Thanks for reading.

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Damned rat

A rude awakening

A flood in the kitchen

Damned rat

Damned water pipe

Damn everything

Sleepy head

Near collapsing

They’ve gone out

Sleep again

Another rude awakening

Or three

Or four

Damned rat

Get the guillotines

Damned rat

My heart aches for the succulents

Let Cyril live rat

Triumph, we have water

But there will be no bath

Dinner was light and boring

Tomorrow will we laugh?

Written 01:11am 26th February 2023

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Rozzy 2009 – 2016

My rabbit died today. His name was Rozzy, a masculine version of his original name Rosehip because Pets@Home thought he was a girl and I took him home thinking OK girl name it is then, well my husband and I at the time was obsessed with herbal teas particularly rosehip so we figured that would suit him; it didn’t occur to us to call him anything else even though he was snowy white with tiny pale flecks of grey and big floppy ears, he was a dwarf rabbit they said.
Well anyway, this was in October 2009 and I was two months pregnant with my soon to be son Henry. Around Christmas time I decided that Rosehip was in fact male, because I had rabbits before and they were usually male and chosen by accident not design and he showed he had the stuff down there for being male – I double checked, yes, he was male alright, so Rosehip became Rozzy. Rozzy means fuzzy hair, which suited him a lot as his hair between his ears stuck up like some Mohican.
He also didn’t turn out to be a dwarf rabbit either; he was as big as a cat when he died.
He hadn’t had a good life in comparison to my other pets in my life, in my personal opinion.
His first few months was excellent, he was a house rabbit and I didn’t want anything else to happen to him, I wanted him indoors with us all the time, being that it was impossible to have a dog at that point in time. He was well trained, let loose in the lounge most of the day and locked in his (recommended by the pet shop) 80cm cage!
When I was 7 months pregnant the pregnancy didn’t go too well for me, in fact I became almost physically disabled, I couldn’t bend or crouch down, particularly when I got to 32 weeks, an old lady out walked me with her Zimmer frame and asked if I was alright! That’s how bad I got, I was so embarrassed! I was 27 and outwalked by a granny with a zimmer! The baby kept lying in difficult positions. My mother was coming to stay, I thought, to help me because I am having a bad time with the pregnancy and was warned that the baby might be premature – well little did I know but she had planned to turn my whole world upside-down, she insisted the rabbit be moved into the utility room, so we did this, because she bought her dog with her and he is a terrier breed.
I could barely get out there to visit my rabbit. Eventually when the baby was born, mother left the day after I went home from hospital – she had no intention of keeping her promise to me and teaching me how to bathe the baby, change the nappy, etc, I had to learn all of this from midwives!
I could never understand why she lived with me for seven weeks during my pregnancy and then went back to London the day after the baby comes home! What was the point in coming at all?
To top it all, the baby was in hospital for the first 5 days of his life with an infection, so I was at my wits end and I was calmed at the idea my mother had nursing experience. She didn’t look at it that way and went anyway. She redecorated my house when I was in hospital without permission, things were moved from places they should have been kept and it took us ages to find them all again.
I was wrapped up with the baby for the first 2 months and then I started to go and see my rabbit in the utility again; Paul looked after him for me. I decided that I would like him moved back into the lounge but the midwives and other people said it would be unhygienic for the baby and that the baby might develop allergies or asthma because of the straw.
I wasn’t happy.
I said to my husband that I was about to play bingo online and that if I won anything over £50 I would get a hutch and have the rabbit outside as I would take it as a sign. I won £150! So out he went, reluctantly, to live in the garden, just before autumn of 2010.
Pauls family, my dad, and Paul himself did a lot to try and make the garden decent for my rabbit. But then I got ill and Paul got tied up with all of my chores as well as his own, raising the baby, caring for the pets (as I have more than just a rabbit, I have guinea pigs too), so the garden wasn’t kept good, the utility room became a hoarders haven and because of that, I couldn’t get out into the garden myself unless Paul was there for support as I have chronic vertigo and other disabilities. So I personally only got to see the rabbit to touch him about four times a year.
I promised the rabbit that if I came into any more money, I would buy a large cage on wheels and bring him back in with me, but that didn’t happen until last week. I won £300 last week and I found that a cage 120cm was being sold on ebay for £40. I got it and it was delivered Monday – unfortunately the whole household has flu, I still have it, but I needed to write about this today. I feel so guilty about his life and I feel this is the biggest example of SODS LAW I’ve ever known. My husband had promised that even though he had flu, he would have tried today if it wasn’t raining to get the rabbit moved into the new cage – well it rained today, but the rabbit died this morning and I am so sad, angry at myself, angry at sods law and I just wished he knew I kept my promise to him!
Poor Rozzy. He is buried under the ash tree in the garden with his 5 siblings. 3 guinea pigs and 2 hamsters. Scrabble, Checkers, Autumn, Donald and Bella. His sister Rowan was told and I don’t believe any scientist that tells me that animals don’t understand people, because she shed a tear! She knew him, she was put into a play pen in front of his hutch in the summers with her sister Autumn, Ruby never knew Rozzy her big brother (Ruby is another guinea pig that is companion to Rowan, she is tiny and Rowan became her mum when she moved in as I believe the seller sold Ruby too young, because Ruby had toilet trouble when she first moved in and Rowan helped lick her to help her).
My little boy wants another rabbit. But his dad says no, not yet, he also asked me if I would like to get the girls (my guinea pig duo) another one to two girls to live with them or a boar? Paul used to be a guinea pig breeder (hobbyist) he once had 50 guinea pigs all to himself, he said he misses it.
I only ever had the 5 guinea pigs since I lived here with him. I would love to see baby guinea pigs. They live indoors and they are not the sinus problem, because I had them moved out for a few weeks and it made no difference to me whatsoever.
I love pets. I don’t have much money right now to have more than just 2 cages of guinea pigs, approximately 6 guinea pigs. But if I had more money, I would be like my godmother, Gina. She is like the female equivalent of Ace Ventura! In her glory days (as I call it) she had this amounts of pets = 9 cats, 6 dogs, 6 rabbits, 2 ducks, 6 terrapins, 2 guinea pigs, 6 cockatiels, an aquarium of fish, 3 rats and 3 budgies, she also whilst having all of these to herself, had a donkey for 2 months but had to give it up due to expense and unruly behaviour! Her eldest daughter would also get her mum to babysit her pets for her from time to time, two more dogs.
I would never keep birds though, but chickens or ducks are OK. Cats don’t like me generally and Paul don’t like cats – I am loved by most dogs though, the bigger the dog I’ve noticed, the more likely it chooses me for its pal! I don’t know if it’s because I look like I can handle them and they think, PERFECT the mama is big! I am 5ft 7 and large and prone to gaining muscle when I exercise too easily!
I can see me having 12 chickens, 3 dogs, 30 guinea pigs, 4 rabbits and 6 hamsters, maybe if I had room goats or pigs and always a large aquarium. Well, that’s my dream.
I would like lizards and snakes, but my husband can’t do them, or rats. I don’t mind any animal, as long as it isn’t spiders. I would even love a fruit bat!
People cringe at me, because I will kiss any animal. Trained my guinea pigs to kiss me, kissed a rat, kissed a snake, and kissed a camel. I am very kissable!
I don’t have parrots sitting on my shoulders, I have Irish Wolfhounds. That was typical when I visited Gina, her Irish wolfhound Amy loved me so much she would use me as a chair. Some fete for a huge dog! A lot of pain for my shoulders! I had to sit back on the sofa, rigid so the dog wouldn’t lose its balance!
I nearly worked with animals on 4 occasions, when I lived with my mum. Every occasion she made me forget the idea. I even had job interviews with vets to train as an auxiliary nurse. I had been accepted to become a police dog trainer, as I am very good at training dogs to do almost anything I want them to, I have a knack with them. I also applied to work for the dog kennels but mum wasn’t happy about that either as I would only be earning £100 a week. The other job was to train to be a dog groomer.
Anyway, I should wrap this up and stop the trips down memory lane of all the animals I ever knew, as the list would be astronomical! Seriously, had too many pets in my experience, too many animal friends instead of people friends. So, I hope you enjoyed this post.
Rest in peace my little bunny xxx

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Rats in superstition

There is a new category to my blog from now onwards, as you can see it is called “Cultural Stuff”; mostly this category will contain beliefs around the world in regards to the supernatural and weird, but also superstitions people have believed over the centuries.

We shall start this category off with a Romany and Isle of Man belief that it is extremely bad luck to write, see or even say the word “rat” unless it is written with a dot or dash between each letter to break up the bad luck. Like this r.a.t

It is also bad luck to mention rats whilst aboard a ship, to do so would bring about terrible weather for the rest of the journey.

Rats leaving a ship at the dockyard, was supposed to be a sign that the ship will not make its next journey safely and this is known in most parts of the world.

To dream of a rat, denotes that someone is scheming against you in your waking life.

Rats aren’t considered bad in all cultures though. Rats are considered sacred in India and have a temple dedicated to them by the people of Rajasthan. If a rat is accidentally killed on the premises, you must replace the rat with a statue made of gold to allay bad feeling.

Rats as a totem means that the person will be shrewd in business and can overcome many of life’s obstacles.
It is interesting to point out that the next year of the rat, according to the Chinese calendar is in 2020, previously it was 2008.

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1922 – Stephen King

Stephen King’s – 1922

A very gory short story about how money can bring about great evil in this world; the story is written with such unusual details for King in my opinion that it is an absolute gem to behold.

The story is about a man who is driven insane by the murder of his wife (he was the murderer) and how she haunted him into his own death.

The story can be found in the anthology called “Full Dark, No Stars”.

It is not the kind of story you want to read if you have a rat phobia. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

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