I`m known for being a trifle squeamish. In fact where creatures are concerned, especially those which crawl, buzz, squeak or lie dead , I`m a wimp.
Dhiren was wonderful. He dealt with everything of this nature, from spiders in the bath to slugs crawling up the walls.
When I looked out of the kitchen window this morning, something black, oval and still was lying at the bottom of the lawn. It could only be a dead bird.
I decided this was way out of my comfort zone and once I was dressed I would call Paul for help. If he was unavailable [ on the Golf Course ? ] I would have to ask my very good neighbours. I was beaten. I could not deal with this.
As the morning wore on and after sharing this horror with friends, I had a little think. I`m a grown woman. If it`s dead it can`t hurt me. I would try. At least, if I failed I could say I`d tried.
I put on my heavy duty rubber gloves, opened out 2 bin liners, took out a tie bin liner, , a shovel and a very long handled hoe.
I changed my sandals for shoes and crept down the garden.
My eyes are not good enough to make out exactly what it was so I stamped my feet , just to make sure it wasn`t sleeping and once I was sure it would stay still, I approached it with the hoe .
It wasn`t till I moved it and it was on the bin liner, I realised it was too light to be a dead bird. I looked closer.
It was a clump of twigs.
I`m so glad I didn`t phone Paul .