I haven't been sleeping well.
It's so hot and humid that even with all the windows open it's been like trying to breathe underwater, and the constant whirring of the electric fan isn't conducive to a restful sleep either.
So when I was wrested from a fitful sleep in the early hours of this morning I was less than impressed. However, when I surfaced properly I was suddenly very, very awake, at the sound of what appeared to be a young child screaming. Having checked the time (1.50am) I was fairly sure that it wasn't due to any of our neighbour's having a late night BBQ, and in any case, none of our neighbours have young children.
The caterwauling was coming from the woodland behind our house, or as Small Dog calls it, 'the forrist of deth and blud' and as I listened it soon became apparent that the noise was coming from an animal which was being attacked/molested/eaten alive (or possibly all three at once).
This is a regular occurrence, though no less upsetting and disconcerting. Nature red in tooth and claw, and all that. Walking though the woods during daylight hours, evidence of the nocturnal carnage is everywhere..... feathers, fur, blood, bits of carcase leftovers..... it's not a pretty sight. Sadly it is often the fate of small furry mammals to end in a damp, crunchy, long drawn-out squeal.
It took some time after the cries had eventually (and mercifully) faded away, for me to get back to sleep, and it was just getting light when the high-pitched drone of a mosquito right by my ear jerked me back into semi-wakefulness. Loath to switch on my bedside light, and entice hordes of the buggers to join it, I reached for the mosquito repellant and with my eyes firmly shut, applied it to all exposed skin. However, its persistent drone had by then awakened PP, who shot bolt upright and insisted upon hunting the intruder down. We finally tracked it down near floor level, and spotted it landing on my bag, whereupon PP beat the living daylights out of it with a rolled up magazine. It was one of the big tiger-stripey variety, and had it bitten me I'd have had to suffer at least a week of itching, pain and weeping blisters, so I'd like to say I didn't lose any sleep over its demise.
However, with the first light of dawn filtering through the windows, and the ghostly mosquito drone still echoing in my ears I struggled to get back to sleep, finally falling into a deep slumber only about an hour before it was time to get up. *sigh*
Predictably, Small Dog has no such problem......