British windows and british fauna
Bill writes: Aline has pointed out to me that in over 2,000 of British history, the brits have never managed to discover, let alone invent, the window screen. So far as I can tell, not a single Londoner has a screen over a single window or door.
At first I thought it must be because they either (A) have nothing that they worry about getting out (i.e. cats and children) or (B) have nothing that they worring about getting in (i.e. bugs and flying squirrels). However, I've seen lots of children and cats peering through the windows of London, and a fair proportion of them must hang out from and even escape through said windows from time to time. And as far as what comes in, well, I feel a bit like old Noah, in that during the forty days and forty nights of rain we've had during the past three weeks, I've seen two of each animal, male and female of its kind, pass into our flat from the garden below. Flies, bees and wasps have visited our little home by day, and moths by night. Birds fly by the window regularly, judging, I assume, as to whether the bookcase in our dining room will make a sizable enough rookery now that spring is here. And should the Bactrian camel ever escape from the London Zoo or Bennett's wallaby from the Whipsnade Wild Animal Park, I expect they will take up freehold tenancy in the second bathroom soon enough.
Perhaps I ought to go down and around the corner to P. J. Supplies, and purchase a square yard (meter? metre?) of their screening (presumably used to wrap cod--as they don't use it in any regard to windows)--and tack some up. But no, then again, I don't think I will. That would mark me as an american, and soon enough, the black London taxis would be pulling up and emptying jeering Londoners to point up at our screeny window and shout pithy epithets regarding my lack of sufficiently stiff upper lip. No, I don't want to be known as "That american chap with the flimsy upper lip." And so, screenless we arrived and screenless we remain. And if we become food for everything that flies and has an appetite, at least I take comfort knowing that our cat Grommet will feed on them in their turn. This, I believe, will not only be illustrative of the cycle of life, but will save on the expense of cat kibble, besides.
At first I thought it must be because they either (A) have nothing that they worry about getting out (i.e. cats and children) or (B) have nothing that they worring about getting in (i.e. bugs and flying squirrels). However, I've seen lots of children and cats peering through the windows of London, and a fair proportion of them must hang out from and even escape through said windows from time to time. And as far as what comes in, well, I feel a bit like old Noah, in that during the forty days and forty nights of rain we've had during the past three weeks, I've seen two of each animal, male and female of its kind, pass into our flat from the garden below. Flies, bees and wasps have visited our little home by day, and moths by night. Birds fly by the window regularly, judging, I assume, as to whether the bookcase in our dining room will make a sizable enough rookery now that spring is here. And should the Bactrian camel ever escape from the London Zoo or Bennett's wallaby from the Whipsnade Wild Animal Park, I expect they will take up freehold tenancy in the second bathroom soon enough.
Perhaps I ought to go down and around the corner to P. J. Supplies, and purchase a square yard (meter? metre?) of their screening (presumably used to wrap cod--as they don't use it in any regard to windows)--and tack some up. But no, then again, I don't think I will. That would mark me as an american, and soon enough, the black London taxis would be pulling up and emptying jeering Londoners to point up at our screeny window and shout pithy epithets regarding my lack of sufficiently stiff upper lip. No, I don't want to be known as "That american chap with the flimsy upper lip." And so, screenless we arrived and screenless we remain. And if we become food for everything that flies and has an appetite, at least I take comfort knowing that our cat Grommet will feed on them in their turn. This, I believe, will not only be illustrative of the cycle of life, but will save on the expense of cat kibble, besides.
posted by Bill | 8:30 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home