I have a tragedy to report.
When we got home from work last night there was no ugly baby crow to be found anywhere.
We searched everywhere. Really everywhere.
The thing is, please don’t tell any burglars about this, but when we went out to work we left the back doors open so that the dogs could empty themselves in the garden should an urgent need arise. The garden has got a piece of board across the end so that the dogs can’t get out, and also so that burglars can’t get in without either having to lift their leg up really high to step over it, or moving it out of the way.
If you are a burglar reading this by chance, don’t bother to come and steal anything because we have got terrifying savage dogs and no money anyway.
Anyway, we think that the poor crow must have hopped over to the open door, probably to have answered the calls of other crows in the garden, popped its head outside, and been eaten by a cat. Cats can get over a bit of board with no trouble at all, even the stupid fat creature next door. When we had a cat it used to go over into the house next door and beat the cat up and eat its dinner and the chap next door used to complain, as if we were going to sit our cat down for a family discussion and explain that it should be kinder.
Cats are worse than burglars because burglars quickly discover that you don’t have anything interesting worth stealing and then selling on eBay, and buzz off. Cats poo in your flowerbeds and then spray vile smelling wee everywhere which doesn’t wash off. Also they eat baby crows which you have befriended and fed on elderly pears and slightly mouldering grapes and come to feel fond of.
There were absolutely no clues anywhere. Not a feather remained, not that it had had very many anyway.
We hunted for ages when we got home, but we knew it was futile. We knew this because the dawn chorus was tweeting into full throttle and there were no baby-crow caws hopefully joining in.
We were very sad. We looked and looked until the dawn was up, but no ugly little crow was to be found anywhere.
It has become a midnight feast for some horrible overfed feline. I suppose this was its most likely fate anyway, but I am sad nevertheless.
We got up and looked again this morning, but it was hopeless, probably it is well on its way through a digestive system by now. Poor baby.
We slept for ages. In fact none of us stirred until well after eleven, and then Number Two Daughter came and joined us and we sat in our bed all together and talked until long after lunchtime, when we got up at a leisurely pace and eventually went to empty the dogs.
After that we had some more coffee, and washed up, and to all of our astonishment it turned out that it was three o’ clock in the afternoon.
There didn’t seem any point in trying to bounce enthusiastically into an early start then, so we had another cup of coffee instead: and then Number Two Daughter went to the gym, where she is trying to upset Number One Daughter. Number One Daughter likes the idea of beating Number Two Daughter even more than she likes the idea of being world champion, and so Number Two Daughter is determined to give her a run for her money.
We went off to do things to the camper van.
Mark said that I should have remembered to take some photographs so that you would be able to see how nicely it is coming on, but firstly I forgot and secondly it is a bit relative anyway. We have cut out and stuck the new bunk bed in, which is exciting, but if I am honest it is all still a bit unfinished.
We worked and worked until it was starting to go dark, and then came home and had cheese and crackers for dinner, which is one of my catering specialities. When I am upset I like very boring food indeed, and today I had plain rice crackers with butter. Mark ate the cheese and also the crackers with interesting additions like cracked pepper and sea salt and jalapeños, whatever they are, and chives and herbs. Number Two Daughter declined everything and just went straight to bed.
We had two glasses of wine about which I will be sorry in the morning.
The picture is of the peony at the end of the garden and the menacing fennel behind it. It is there because I had forgotten to take any interesting pictures.
Tomorrow is another day.
