Bats in the Belfry

We've been here exactly one year. Yes, a year ago today, we spent our first night in this little cottage. The wind was howling round the roof so loudly it felt like it could just rip off and blow away. I consoled myself with the thought that this was a 17th Century building, the roof had probably seen it all before. We lay awake amused that we could hear the cats playing on the roof, and occasionally sliding off it! Two days later I mentioned this to Pongo. He said, "Actually it might not be cats, it might be rats." I was astounded. That night we lay awake, having realised that what we were actually listening to was the sound of hungry rats chewing at the plaster in the eaves above our heads - roughly two feet above our heads, to be precise. Missis said it would be a shame to poison them. Our house hadn't sold by then, and I had to resist a massive urge to up-sticks and go home. Let's just say, we took matters into our own hands. The field next to ours has great big tubes of silage, and apparently the rats live in that. Well they can live in it, as far as I'm concerned, and not in my attic. The joys of country life, eh?