Winning the Lottery

Last Friday saw us belting up the F3 after taking half day’s leave.  It’s a good feeling that rises in crescendo the further away from Sydney we get.

By the time we arrived home it was just past dusk and the 3km cross country drive from the main road gate towards the shed provided it’s usual, oddly comforting, bumpy ride.  There was nothing untoward: no trees down and the cattle obligingly stood back with that air of studied indifference tinged with distrust all cattle seem to have.

Inside the shed the unpacking of food commenced until suddenly I noticed a plant had taken root inside the satellite TV box/DVD player cabinet.  Strange.  Then we noticed it wasn’t a plant but, along with various other insulating fabrics and coconut husks (decorative mulch from around other house plants) had been made into a big nest.  A nest harmoniously wrapped around one of our few bits of technology.  It was invitingly warm in there. 

Now, mice don’t really make nests like this.  They’ll find a cosy spot in a drawer full of clothing or such like and have their broods there.  This was not a mouse nest.  Not a rat’s either.  The culprit was in the living area of the shed somewhere so it was left to me to track her and, being the seasoned and highly trained pommie bullshit artist tracker that I am, ran her to ground in the bathroom.  Klara came in as requested then beat a healthy retreat when one of the biggest mice I’ve even seen leapt out from a head-height shelf right in her direction.  Kamikaze-like.  I’m pretty sure it was an Antechinus.  A native marsupial mouse with the males having suicidal breeding habits.  A little bit of home-grown entertainment to greet our arrival and one that makes living where we do so rich.

We also have a growing normal field mouse population that ensures we have to hide every bit of food behind sturdy cover.  This is to say we've given up trying to catch them and are just content to stop them finding their way into food and clothes. 

Thankfully outside, there is something more sinister living in the 'patio' sofa though.  Lifting off the cushions there was a mass of feathers suggesting some bird had been dragged back and systematically devoured.   I don’t think it’s the Python but can’t be certain.  It might be the Bandicoot because it regularly digs up our “lawns” looking for grubs, frogs, etc.  On quiet summer nights he/she/them can be seen half hopping around the area foraging for goodies.

Yes, resources at ‘Stuki’ might be considered by some to be borderline third-world poverty or even primeval.  We consider it as winning the Lottery and are fabulously rich beyond mere millionaires.