The one bad thing about this time of year

I won't lie: this is going to be one cranky post. March is in my opinion undoubtedly the best month to enjoy Melbourne. Summer's rage has almost all but passed and we enjoy lovely climes until Winter's touch comes again mid-April. However, as I've mentioned in passing already recently, it also signals one other thing: possum mating season. And, worse, with the possums come....the rats. Those of my friends who are familiar with my adventures with these two particular creatures will be well aware how much I despise both, because year after year, despite frantic plugging, each find their way into our roof to make a cozy little den for themselves. The last time we had this particular problem was a year ago. Riley was still sleeping in our room as a newborn when I went to our neighbours in tears, begging them to stop feeding their chickens food scraps left on the ground because it was acting like the pied piper for all the rats in the neighbourhood. Tired from their journeying, they would all then shack up for the night in our walls and roof until the next night....and anyone familiar with the scratching and the high pitched squeals you get with said company will fully understand me when I say that at that time I wished I owned a shotgun. I would've used it. Now, they're back again. Forget for a moment I have NO IDEA how they've gotten in. Forget for a moment that we've got enough baits remaining up there for New York City. Forget that that ball of anxiety I've only recently been able to dislodge from my belly is back again and it's so tired. Just remember that while I'm listening to rodent frolicking is the time I should be sleeping when I don't get much of that anyway. I love where we live. I love our house. But it's times like these when I just...despair. Poor Adam too, he's the one who lugs himself up into the roof to assess the damage each time.... *sigh* ...but I really don't know what to do anymore.