Whitebait and Wetlands

It is hot and sticky here this week, and almost impossible to sleep well at night.  This morning I left early to visit the supermarket, fill up the car with petrol, collect a script from the pharmacy, and take a quick foray into a department shop to search for some drawers we need for the kitchen (no luck). 

Home again, and I went to change into some cooler clothes and discovered that Mittens had brought a mouse into my bedroom.  A live mouse!  One that ran everywhere!  It finally hid in a shopping bag, which son carried outside and carefully emptied until there was just the mouse left – it was freed and the cat immediately began chasing it again.

The mouse, only a tiny one, found refuge under a pile of cardboard waiting for rubbish collection day and remains there still.  There is one cat on one side of the pile, and another cat on the other side.  I begin to feel sorry for the mouse!

I have finished reading my first book for February – Whitebait and Wetlands, Tales of the West Coast by John Dawson and David Henshaw.  The book is a series of tales, both true and not-so-true, about the antics of some of the larger-than-life characters who lived on the West Coast during the 1960s and 1970s.

These men (and women) had their own sense of humour and a unique code of ethics that often resulted in a general lack of respect for rules and regulations.  A good read if you don’t mind the occasional bit of coarse language.

The photos above are a selection of some I took while driving down the West Coast last year.

Cheers,

Margaret

P.S.  Nearly an hour later, and I see the mouse has won.  The cats have given up in disgust and left the wee thing to its own devices.  Mittens is now sprawled out on my sheepskin rug, and Millie is sound asleep under the garden seat.  Sleeping is the best thing for a cat to do on a hot humid afternoon!