This morning, while Wilcox and I were still in bed, Martha did a poo so stenchful that we convinced ourselves she had done it in the room, if not in our actual bed. We both woke up retching. In fact, the two steaming piles of poo were outside the back door. Which, admittedly, was open. Still, that's some stinky poo, right?


When we got up there was a wattle bird in the kitchen. They're beautiful birds, the wattle bird — so long and lean and mottly. They have wattles under their necks, little dangly bits, for what purpose I do not know. We shut all the doors in the kitchen except the one that goes outside (the one with Martha's poos — possibly why the wattle bird couldn't manage to exit??) and left her to it (Wilcox said it was definitely a her). She left via the small section of doorway unobstructed by giant piles of stinking dog poo. Pity. I was getting quite attached to her.

Meanwhile, all this, and it's only 10am!