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Babies!

 It’s like Heathrow Airport for birds around here at the moment. Or Gatwick. I don’t know the difference regarding which is the better of the two. I’ve never flown anywhere, and never intend to either, so airports are off my radar regarding their busyness, attractions, pros and cons. From what I’ve seen on the telly, they look abysmal places full of queues, grumpiness, disorganisation, people sleeping on benches and drinking overpriced coffee and therefore, quite frankly, I’m glad I’ve never experienced them. Anyway, shed loads of birds in the Damson Cottage airways, and soon to be more added to the mix because…

Babies! These are the blackbird babies in Tree House Nest. Andy took a sub-second snap on his ‘phone - in and out like a whippet - and this is what he caught. Honestly, they’re all mouths at this stage aren’t they? Father Blackbird has been very busy collecting up beakfuls of buggy disgustingness from around the garden to feed his screeching brood. I’ve noticed one of his favourite shopping places is the area on and around Vladimir Poo Tin - makes my stomach heave to think what he might find so attractive there. 

And the Sycamore Bird Box at the top of the garden has hatched, too…


Spooky little alien beings which I think are probably great tits. I shall make a point of installing myself in the hammock which is on the aspen tree next to the sycamore, and doing some covert bird-watching in order to confirm great tit or not. 

And Mr and Mrs Swallow now have…

…five eggs! Mrs Swallow has entered incubation mode so there should be hatched babies some time in the middle of June. Five is a good number for swallows, and means that on the Swallow Insect Indicator Scale, buggy numbers are high. I can confirm this with my own Denise Bitten By Bugs Scale. 

We have increasing populations in the Cottage, too. Heather and Ollie arrived yesterday with Harris. This is Harris in his personal pope mobile…

He is about 14 years old and was adopted from the rescue shelter where he was placed after the death of his elderly gentleman owner. He has been living the pampered life of luxury with his new servants for two years now. And for the next couple of months he will be staying with his Gran and Grandpa, and his Uncle Bambino in Shropshire. (I think that’s how the relationships pan out.)

The journey up was a game of two halves, each end producing the Vomit and Poo of Stress, whilst the nice motorway bit in the middle provided the calm respite of sleep. He was settled into the spare bedroom in order to have some peaceful and quiet recovery time from his travelling trauma, but within a couple of hours he was exploring all around the house and enjoying bird watching from various window sills. Either that or he was planning an escape route back to Kent. In the meantime, Bambino eyed him, sometimes from afar, sometimes from a-close, but he was mostly distracted by the magnificent cornucopia of toys Harris brought with him, along with some cat foodie treats and a new cardboard box to rip to shreds. 

The pair exchanged a few quiet hisses when they passed by, but there were no out and out fisticuffs and all was quiet on the western front last night. The Feliway Optimum must be doing its job well. The plan is that by the time Heather and Ollie leave next Sunday, Harris and Bambino will be best mates and playing games of chess together whilst discussing how they would redesign the inside of the house to make it look more stylish and tasteful. 

Fingers crossed! 









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