Possum Magic?

One of my tasks for today is to ring a possum expert to see if he can persuade the possums in our roof to shift their party venue. I couldn’t sleep on Monday night and as I sat on the sofa reading back copies of Yachting Monthly in an attempt to induce a coma like state, I heard noises in the roof space above the kitchen. It was less the patter of tiny feet and more of a thundering herd. I googled ‘possums in the roof’ and discovered that possums are a protected species in NSW and the advice proffered is to build them an alternative home and then to gently encourage them out of the roof space with a combination of carrot and stick. The carrot, (or actually banana or apple in the case of possums) forming a trail of food towards their new handmade palatial possum house, and the stick being mothballs spread around the roof space. The other slightly unnerving bit of advice is make sure it is possums not rats. I have just stuck my head into the roof space and glanced nervously around and there are definitely rodent droppings. However given my limited rodent knowledge, I am unable to differentiate between possum and rat poo, nor I hasten to add, do I have any desire actually to develop the ability to spot rodent type by dropping, so the sooner the possum man gets here the better. Being rather hard hearted I also think if it is possums they can jolly well move back into the trees – the chances of Simon building a possum palace are remote.

The only bit of wildlife/pet around the place I am feeling vaguely friendly about are the worms in the worm farm. Historically we have chucked all our vegetable peelings and egg shells into the worm farm. However Simon has now banned all kinds of eggs being chucked in the worm bin. This is following an eye wateringly, unpleasant experience where Simon spread the worm soil over the front garden and splatted a whole egg that had been maturing in the worm compost for a good three months. I have some sympathy with his viewpoint as he was still making cat sick noises four hours later and complete strangers were crossing the road rather than walk past the front garden.