foxes in London. But they are here - en masse - probably outnumbering humans in Hampstead. I've seen a few and they are not cute.
Last night two, or more, foxes decided to get it on in the front garden. It's not a pretty thing, this fox mating - at least it doesn't sound nice. They made an almighty racket and I'm fairly sure it was right outside out window. They may as well have been inside the bedroom (after they were done I swear I smelled cigarette smoke!)
Granted, I was already awake - Cate got up to complain about owls in her room (there aren't any), which woke up X, who is teething and decided to voice his discomfort, and Fen forgot nose-strips so there was a constant growling, rolling-snort emanating from his side of the bed. Then the foxes chimed in. I've been awake since 4:30am! It's madness.
For fifteen years I travelled for work - to conferences, meetings, etc. One year I spent 53 nights in hotel rooms - alone. At first I loved it but then it wore on me and I tired of it. How I longed to settle down, have a family and not have to travel for work. Right now - a hotel room on my own for a single night sounds divine. No kids waking me up, no imaginary owls hooting my children from their slumber, no death-rattle snoring from the man I love, no teething infants shrieking in the night and no blasted London foxes having an orgy in the yard.
And if I were to have that night I would pine away for all the above - minus the fox. I can't win. Ah well. Thank God for wine.