Sunday, November 8, 2009

Scarred


Some of you have followed my regular "Wildlife"posts, but this one is a doozy, and actually one that caused a "I wanna go back to NZ" plea, that once again fell on death ears.

I was about to be picked up to do a 10km run event and ran out to pop a rubbish bag in the wheely bin. But my rubbish bin was not empty. No sir. Inside the bin was the biggest freaking, most disgusting possum. Asleep. In my rubbish bin. It stirred a little as I screamed and dropped my rubbish bags and ran inside where once again I screamed at the husband ( in frenzied whispering coz if the boys had got wind of the visitor they would have been out like a shot to investigate and coming into any contact with it again would simply have been too much trauma for me for one day). The Husband was very disinterested. Or at least feigned disinterest at my pleading "can you do something about it please". I went to my run, and blame only an ok'ish run on the post stress disorder resulting with my brush with the possum. I came home. "Is the possum gone?" I asked, "Possum, what possum? Oh right, forgot all about it" came his nonchalant reply. Thinking hard about what would inspire him into action, I laid all my cards on the table and promised "pleasures of the flesh" for 7 days in a row. Nope, would need to go higher than that he said. By now my friend Zoe was involved via text, and she said her husband had offered to come and shift our possum for the same deal with her.

Men.

So putting my head back in the sand I went about my day until I saw the rubbish bag I'd discarded beside the rubbish bin, rather than in it, had been ravaged by crows or magpies. Australia, gad! Somehow seeing our rubbish spread around our yard was enough to catapult The Husband into action, and out he came. With his golf club. "I'm going to kill it" he said but I was aghast with the blimmin logistics of the situation I was worrying about mess and gore and ...remnants. He thought we had the perfect solution as the possum WAS ALREADY IN the rubbish bin. Hmm, 6 hot days later you can just imagine all the other wildlife that would be in our bin by rubbish day. He couldn't rouse the sleeping possum, so we agreed a plan when it was dark. And sure enough my brave Husband finally resolved our possum situation and we now have a large rock on top of the wheely bin to prevent any repeat incidents.

And now for my part of the deal....

2 comments:

  1. I hear ya kid! We had a possum nite experience a few days back, and the barking noise outside on our bedroom deck nearly drove me insane! It's pretty early to be getting them here-usually they wait until it's warmer (and it sure isn't warm here yet)
    As The Husband had consumed a few ales out with the lads that particular nite, I didn't manage to rouse him to go and deal to the possum. Instead, I opened the deck door and politely told him to bugger off - didn't work of course, so had to wait until he got bored with the game and moved back into the bush.The Husband reckoned I needed to say 'please' next time - great help!

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  2. ahahahaha missed this one last time, just followed it from your newest post (which I love too and yes there are DEFINITELY man allocated jobs) ! Too funny Lisa!!

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