'I think that they are finally DOING IT!!'
And Middle Son yelled back, 'Who? Who?'
And I yelled back, 'Hang on, can't quite see... aha, it's ROSIE!'
And Middle Son yelled back, 'Hooray, dear old Rosie!'
And all was silence again, except for the recently arrived swallows, chattering and arguing about who should build the nest. Or something.
And a few minutes later, Middle Son yelled back to me, where I was weeding a particularly obstinate bit of rose garden,
'He's at it again! Only this time it's Tilly!'
'Hooray,' I yelled back, 'Did he last any longer this time?'
'Um. ' (yelled, quite hard to do really) 'About 5 seconds.'
'Oh. (also yelled, also quite hard). Good for him.'
And again, another five minutes later, 'He's at it with Honey now!'
'Hooray! Such a good cock!'
You see, we haven't had neighbours for ages. By neighbours I mean the house down the lane, about 500 yards away. Only their garden stretches up to the corner of the lane, on the other side of the road from us. And their children have a trampoline, as I can hear the boing, boing noises of children hurling themselves up and down when I put out the washing. Slightly disconcerting to hear neighbours when you never did before. And significantly disconcerting to know that THEY can hear EVERYTHING as I can hear Every Breath of theirs. Every single WORD is as clear as a bell, as they jump up and down on that trampoline of theirs.
Oh, dear. They will think we are Hardcore Deviants.
YOU think we are Hardcore Deviants?
No, no! I am talking about our new cockerel. Timmy. Red plumage, thick as shit, but goes like a train.
Which is just what we want as CHICKS are longed for. And we all know that No Shag means No Chick.
And so we will continue to call out to each other our observations of Timmy the Cock, because each Act is a possible Chick, and that is MOST Satisfactory.
Although, clearly, not to the neighbours.