Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1150.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1150
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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I arrived home from the hospital swathed in bandages with an ankle that was diagnosed as sprained. It ached abominably and all I wanted to do was go to bed. Sadly, the children and especially the baby thought otherwise.

I was swamped with sympathy, then Stella presented me with a hungry baby and I couldn’t avoid feeding her because I had a bad ankle–in other words I had to get on with it.

Simon was livid that the wood thieves seemed to be getting away with things, and immediately went to see if they owed the bank anything. He came back ten minutes later and explained their mortgage was with another bank, although he’d talk to their chairman tomorrow and see if he could get it called in.

Whilst I was all in favour of a little revenge, I felt he was acting unprofessionally using the bank to further personal arguments. We discussed it and he actually told me that morally I was quite right, but he was still after blood–theirs. I told him that if I really wanted to get my own back, I’d leave the children there for a few days. Simon sniggered and told me he didn’t hate anyone enough to do that. Then seeing I was indisposed, ordered pizza for everyone. I told him I’d have a sandwich later. He shrugged and went to see what the kids wanted as toppings.

The next morning, my ankle felt much easier, so I suspect Trish had been busy sending me healing whilst she slept. She seems to be fast getting the idea of healing.

Whilst I was making a roast dinner, a traditional Sunday roast, Gareth arrived and reported on the damage to the woodland. He counted up to fifty trees felled and while they were a variety of species, and undoubtedly some nest boxes had been damaged or lost, he thought the site would recover if some planting took place quickly. Apparently he hoped to embarrass the Forestry Commission into funding it.

He also announced that the police had pounced on the house and yard of Digger Mackay and that evidence had been removed and arrests made. He told me they’d left their chainsaw in the woods because they’d run off so quickly after I caught them. Apparently the gang were caught about to leave the yard, so possibly were going back to the same piece of woodland again.

Trish’s video was pretty damning evidence, and the police were cock-a-hoop with it as they’d been trying to get a conviction for years. Witnesses were usually intimidated into revoking their statements by claiming they were given under duress by the police. I assured him, no such event would happen here, we’d stay with the case until he went down, hopefully for a long time.

About six nest boxes were destroyed, Gareth decided, and was going to prosecute on probability that at least one if not two were occupied, because my data tended to indicate that was the usual level. He’d apparently found all six and three of them had nesting material in them. He found no casualties in them either.

I started up my computer and he showed me a list of the nest boxes he’d found, I suspected that at least two more were involved. Had he checked the yard for them? He hadn’t and after a call to the police he went off to do so. He was back an hour later, they found them both, and inside one was a dead mother and four babies. He was prosecuting for five animals and the probability of injured or killed bats as well.

The police were looking to charge them with attempting to kill me and injure my children, as the video showed and as the number of the truck was so clear, it was unequivocally his, so bail was withheld. I’d have been quite happy for him to try and intimidate me, I suspect I might have had a very robust response. Thankfully, it wasn’t a question of finding out. If he’d hurt my children, I’d have had him hunted down and stuffed on top of a bonfire in his own yard.

I asked Simon if the bank might sponsor a fence around the site in the woodland, to keep deer out as well as poachers and thieves. He said he’d see what they could do and what publicity they could get from it.

Gareth stayed for lunch and was squabbled over by Julie, Phoebe and Stella. I kept out of it, not having quite forgiven him for the UN thing. He was still on about it, but with a young baby whom I was feeding myself, it wasn’t a good idea, and even he could see that–once he’d seen it, me breast feeding, that is.

Simon took Phoebe home to Salisbury as Julie became occupied with Leon–I think she challenged him to a tongue wrestling match–and Phoebe asked if she might come and visit again.

“If you’d like to–although after what happened, I’d have thought you’d be staying well clear of us,” I answered her question.

“Oh no, it’s the most exciting weekend I’ve spent since I went skiing with the school and four of the girls got caught in an avalanche. That was like, brill, too.” She seemed such a nice kid for an adrenalin junkie.

Gareth left, promising to come and see Stella one evening, which I think pleased everyone, especially as it gave him a link to the bank and their conservation fund, from which I was hoping they’d pay for the fencing for the dormouse site.

We were discussing it over lunch and Trish asked if the dormice would all have keys to get through the gate. I told her they wouldn’t, because they were dormice, not gate mice. I think I’ll put it in my diary, I actually got one over on her.

Gareth declared that during the summer no one would need a key. When I asked why, he told me that some gatekeeper butterflies would open and shut the gate for us. I chuckled but none of the others got it.

The gatekeeper or hedge brown butterfly is common along hedgerows, and frequently appears near gates, hence its name. We get them in the garden, especially down by the orchard, where we also have meadow browns and wall butterflies or wall browns. We do quite well for butterflies, because we have a range of habitats, although Tom doesn’t welcome the cabbage whites terribly much, except to spray them with soapy water, helped by various birds which feed on the caterpillars as they hatch. We never seem too short of cabbages, broccoli or kale, so Tom must be doing something right.

Of the various garden pests, the one I wanted to see ever since I was kid, is the death’s head hawkmoth, Acherontia atropos which lays its eggs on potatoes, although the adults will feed on honey in bee hives or bee’s nests–it appears impervious to their stings.

Oh well, back to normal tomorrow–school and a bit more on my survey work, once I’ve contacted Henry in a professional capacity to see how we–the bank–could get publicity for protecting the poor dormeeces. What’s the bet it’s my photo they use not his.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acherontia_atropos
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gatekeeper_Butterfly
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meadow_Brown
Wiki can’t seem to distinguish between the Wall (brown) and Speckled wood which are two distinct species, so I can’t do a link.

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