Primrose Hill Manor: Close Encounters Of A Country Kind
One of the things I learned about my life in the city over the last three decades is that I had forgotten what it was like to live harmoniously with nature. My life had slowly became void of the sounds, the experiences, and the smells of country life.
The sounds of silence.
In the city (apart from the odd raccoon rummaging through my trash bin or a squirrel dancing precariously on a hydro wire), close encounters with wildlife were rare. Living in the country, on the other hand, has changed all that and, admittedly, it has been a small shock to my system.
Starting with the silence. Wow, is it quiet out here!
To be honest, hearing “nothing,” especially when all the country critters have settled in for the night, has me unsettled. It’s just so darn quiet.
My new housemates, small but mighty.
But, friends, that hasn’t been the toughest part of my transition. In only four short weeks of home ownership, I’ve had several scream-worthy moments, all related to creatures — and don’t laugh — mostly SMALL creatures.
So today, I thought I’d report on some of the lovely (touch of sarcasm here) animals that have crossed my path at Primrose Hill Manor since I’ve owned this place.
Creature #1: a slippery interloper.
On one particularly lovely morning, I set out to the side of the house to wash my face. Yes, outside. Since the inside plumbing isn’t functioning yet, I’ve been forced to use the outside tap to freshen up.
I’ll say this now: I’m fanatical about taking good care of my skin (more on that in another post). I don’t skip a day, even if I have to use an outside tap and frigid water (not a great temperature for washing skin but, again, for another time).
So, as I turned on the tap to begin my daily regimen, the water started rushing over the garden beneath my feet. Just as I began to cleanse my face, and from the corner of my eye, I was horrified to see a garter snake frantically slithering into a hole in THE FOUNDATION OF MY HOUSE!
As he disappeared, I let out a scream loud enough to wake up everyone in a ten-kilometer radius and thought to myself, “Where the ‘bleep’ was he going? And how will he be able to turn around to get out? Did this mean that he was actually IN my house?”
The truth is I’m horrified of snakes, even perfectly harmless garter snakes. And, yes, at the moment, I feel that this horrifying incident has scarred me for life. I shall try to forget about how traumatic the experience was, but I don’t know how much of this my heart can take.
Oh, and by the way, since then, I’ve managed to walk into TEN snakes on the property. Yes, ten. Yes, I am counting. And yes, every single time, I let out a scream that could wake the dead.
Creatures 2, 3, 4 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and so on and so on and so on …
If you’ve been following me on Instagram for any length of time, you may have read my post about having bats in the attic.
Bat guano (feces) is very dangerous if inhaled. You better believe calling a bat control company was the first call I made before the ink had dried on the ownership papers.
What I’ve learned, for the most part, is that bats in Ontario spend their winters in caves, but in the spring, the mamas always return to the same place every year (the nursery, in essence) to have their pups.
Bats typically have their babies in June, so we were on a tight deadline. You see, by law you can’t remove bats until their wee ones can fly, so step one was finding out if babies were already part of the problem. If not, the mamas had to be given their eviction papers A.S.A.P. — and in a kindly way. Once my “batman” had determined that there were no newborns yet, he went to work to free the mamas to the outdoors and then close up any holes.
When I was first confronted with the problem of my attic tenants, I had been concerned about disrupting the natural order of things. I wanted to find those mama bats appropriate accommodations, at least as swanky as the attic they were accustomed to at Primrose Hill. My solution? I purchased them Victorian bat houses! Finding them “modern” accommodations just didn’t feel right, especially after so many years of living the high life in a Victorian manor. Now, they will have their babies in style.
Bats are important to our ecosystem. Each bat can eat hundreds of mosquitoes a night and are VERY important part of country living. So, the new Victorian bat houses have been located in various other parts of the property, and we will now live in harmony.
And then there’s the cuteness brigade …
It’s not all been critter scariness at Primrose Hill Manor. The rabbits, the birds, and the chipmunks have been a pure joy to watch.
The bunnies come out at dusk and seem rather bold. They come right up to the house, and give me a stare-down while I sweep the front porch and view my budding garden. I suppose when you’ve been labeled “quick as bunny,” I don’t pose any kind of threat.
So we shall live in harmony — until they start eating my plants! Peter Rabbit comes to mind. I think it’s time to read those books to my daughter and open her eyes to the reality of humans and rabbits in the garden patch. But, again, I know we’ll figure out a friendly solution.
The birds seem the happiest on this property. With various tree varieties in which to perch, they fly from one tree to the next looking for their next meal. I have a funny feeling I’m going to become an avid “birder” while living here. It only seems natural.
Last, my adorable chipmunks. Two cuties live in a small hole in the foundation beside my entrance. I love hearing them chirp away at me when I’m on their turf. They scurry about as fast as can be, looking for seeds and crumbs. Those little creatures bring me pure joy.
Appreciation and growing respect for all my little tenants.
It’s taking some time to settle in, but I take heart knowing that moving anywhere new involves an adjustment period. Every day, sitting on the lawn and taking in the beauty of my surroundings, I feel a huge appreciation for the animals of Primrose Hill Manor. A place, they too, call home.
