I think the time has come to concede defeat and go to the hardware store. I propose we get a sign made for our house, officially naming it ‘The Mole Hole’. ‘The Several Dozen Mole Holes’ would be more accurate but it doesn’t have the same ring to it. It really is a bit much when you sit there trying to think and as you look out of the window you can see them flinging soil into the air, without a care in the world. The alternative would be to buy some circular slabs and pretend we always wanted a number of paths zigzagging across our lawn in all sorts of odd locations. We could turn it into a feature. That would have the added advantage of giving the moles a headache when they lifted their heads up where they thought they had left a hole, only to find a paving slab in the way.
You may remember that for their honeymoon last year, my master and mistress went to an island called Curacao. Without me, it should be said , but I don’t bear a grudge! (Ok maybe a small grudge.) Anyway, the destination was chosen to be in the Caribbean but outside of the hurricane risk area. In theory you don’t get hurricanes that far south. Sadly, nobody seems to have told that to Felix earlier this week. Given that my master on balance prefers to avoid areas at risk of earthquake or other natural disasters and my mistress has largely gone off flying, something tells me they are going to be holidaying a bit closer to home. I don’t think we are at risk of any of hurricanes, earthquakes or volcanic eruptions here in Belgium but I suppose there is always a first time! I guess our biggest risk is disappearing altogether if sea-levels rise.