Steven Seagull is not selfish - he's invited his gang to join him. The raucous calls at 5.30 calling all his friends and lovers to join him in our apple harvest is enough to drive me to drink. But even I don't like the idea of cracking open a bottle at 6 a.m.
I'm wondering whether I could sneakily take a pot shot at him with an air rifle? I'm just worried that Google Earth might at that precise moment be overhead snapping my picture as I - in a tatty bright pink dressing gown - commit a seagull massacre. I'm not sure which would be worse - for all to see me in my tatty gown - like a bright pink sack of potatoes. Or to be caught and prosecuted for murdering gullible gulls.
Perhaps it will be easier if I plod uphill to the orchard and just collect up all the windfalls.
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3 comments:
Penny, as a fellow seagull sufferer and Segal watcher (he's crap, but I wish I was half the man he pretends to be), I read somewhere only yesterday of a car sticker with the motto "Eat a seagull a day!", or something like that. Noisy buggers, aren't they? X
Loved seeing where you live through Google Earth. Visited Seaton, which is not far from you, some years back and thought it beautiful. Anywhere is great really if you get a chance to breathe in the sea air. Lucky you.
They are St Billy, I wonder what they taste like?? A kind of fishy chicken I assume.
Yes Misted Heather - the smell of the sea has been wafting inland a great deal this year. I think it's all the decaying seaweed washed up on the shores . .
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