Run Rat, Run..

I'm beginning to sound like a Moaning Minnie; I just don't feel wonderful, but it's probably because I was sort of relying on the stress to keep me going. And now it's gone! Get a life is the phrase that comes to mind - I need to get on with it!

I took a brisk walk this morning, although it wasn't very inviting. Today the sea was icy grey, with a dull silver sheen marking the sun's path, and ruffled by a bitter wind. The beach has been scoured flat by the recent high tides and the shoreline is still littered with giant matchwood as far as the eye can see. Some people have been taking advantage of this bounty, but not many. If the owners of the wood are serious about recovering it, they'll have a near-impossible task - and lots of planks are still being washed ashore along the whole Sussex coast.

Reading Wife in the North today, I was reminded about a true story concerning rats, and told by our neighbouring farmer when we lived (the Ex and I) in the depths of rural Gloucestershire. He, the Farmer, had been plagued by rats in the animal feed and was desperate to get rid of them. So he sent for some stuff which he was instructed to paint on the "rat run" and leave overnight. Imagine his horror the next morning when he went to look and found that the "stuff", which was black, thick and sticky, had literally trapped the rats as they ran up to the feed. They had been stuck fast, and had bitten and clawed at each other in desperate attempts to get free. Of course they were mostly dead by the morning but, and he said it with a shiver, it was one of the worst sights he had ever seen! And he had to clear it up. Ugh..