There are no photos to depict the scare I had yesterday. I had spent a good part of the day indoors because rain squalls kept blowing through. Two boats are anchored in the coves.
On my way out to run, I brought compost to the garden and eyed the silverbeet for dinner. I turned and saw a fat rat sitting in the garden path. We had set rat bait and I thought, “Oh, they just die in their tracks”. I stamped my foot a few times, nothing. Walked gingerly by, nothing. But it looked bizarre. Eyes open, just sitting there.
So I decided to wait until morning to shovel him off to the rat cemetery and went running. I stopped back in the garden to pick my veggies and….he was gone!!! He played possum with me and was not demonstrating how effective my traps were! Aaah! As Tim likes to say, “There’s no such thing as paradise”. Or as the beloved Gilda Radner, of SNL of yore, used to say, “It’s always something”.
I’ve included other views of the compound where we live.
This shows the back of the oil and paint sheds and a glimpse of the former superintendent’s quarters, which now houses the museum. The green structure to the left is the garden. It’s fenced, covered in chicken wired, including the top, and surrounded by a wind screen. You can be sure I’ll patch any obvious faults in it this week. Way off in the distance to the left is the lighthouse.
The superintendent lived in the lower compound and the assistants lived in houses at “the top of the world”, next to the lighthouse.