Right, so everyone has gone very quiet since my last post and I am fearful I have alienated friends, relatives, romans and countrymen with my archaic musings on what being a mum at home means to me! So onto more exciting news!

I made Ron take this photo of the squashed possum on the road outside our house. Afterwards our roof was mercifully silent for a long time. I would hear the odd scratching noise but mostly during the day and that could be explained by the magpies using our roof tiles to crack snail shells. There certainly wasn’t the level of possum activity that we had before, nightly marching noises, a huge kerfuffle at dawn as Mr Possum came home, all puffed up with his nights exploits to tell the family. Because apparently there was a family, all living happily in our roof space until BANG suddenly no one is bringing home the bacon.

Ok, this is getting a little morbid. We were genuinely sad about the dead possum, we both love watching them in the big tree outside, but we don’t like them living in our roof and weeing on our ceilings and pooping in the insulation. We also don’t like the fact that it costs upwards of $300 to get a Possum Man in to get rid of them and I especially don’t like the fact that this has made Ron very anxious to get up in the roof himself and I don’t know if his income protection insurance covers our roof!

So tonight Ron is outside cooking our steaks on the barbie and suddenly he hears the possum. He grabs the ladder, throws it up against the wall and climbs up and completely catches a possum by suprise exciting our roof space through a previously unidentified LARGE hole under the tiles! So we spring into action and grab all sorts of junk including an old bbq grill, a wooden draw and some bits of plank to block up the hole. Genius, mission accomplished, we have sealed the house whilst the possum is outside and when he comes home again he will shed a tear at not being able to get back in and then move on to our neighbours house which is rented so we don’t care!

And then the noises and so the conclusion that we have now split an already broken family even further and the sad realisation that we might just have to get the possum man in after all.

The End.