Mice and men..

What a glorious day it has been, my dears, with the sun caressing the autumn leaves creating a blaze of fiery oranges, yellows, reds and green to light up the countryside; what a spectacular sight. The male guardian and I took the carriage and rode out early to ensure we made the most of the weather. We alighted on the moor and walked up to a high point above a local reservoir and beyond, all the more to enjoy the spectacle, whilst the wild ponies milled about us. Dear souls, what a way to start the day, the coldness of the wind was bracing and we gulped large lungfuls as the eyes roved across the scene laid out before us, attempting to imprint it on our minds eye, whilst the sun glinted on the reservoir. Oh, England, my England indeed. 

On our return, once our morning repast and a brief glimpse of the periodicals had been enjoyed, we set about rehoming a visitor who had decided to partake of our hospitality in hope of a warm and plentiful Christmas. Alas for Mr Mouse, our larder is not the home that he had hoped to establish himself in. He has been cruelly ejected and measures undertaken to ensure he does not return for, sweet as they appear, they really are a tad destructive for our liking. I am sure that Mr Mouse would not have had the temerity to try should our dear Maine Coons still be with us. The male guardian has, however, taken steps to ensure we do not receive a similar calling card in the future. As with most country dwellings, there is always the potential for sharing ones home with the local wildlife, be it the small four legged variety, the winged feather clad or, indeed, those of the flamboyant tail variety and one must ensure, each year, measures are undertaken to avoid non paying guests of the fur/feather variety. Part of the joys of County living, my dears.