We have discovered that one of the best forms of therapy is grabbing a sledge hammer and a crow bar and smashing something. So we decided to get therapeutic on our front deck and surrounding concrete. Actually, it was already in state of disrepair, it didn't take much encouragement for it to kind of just, fall over.
While we were at it and had room left in the skip bins, we thought we would top it up with the rat infested insulation from the south-west side of the house. Well, there was probably just as much rat poo up there as pink bats, 3 rats nests, and a few dead rats too, all in different states of decay. Once huddled into a crawl space Houdini would have been proud to get out of, I came eye to eye with what I thought to be a rat that was still alive. I swear that I saw it move! It was one of those "ok, what do I do now?" moments. I wasn't armed with anything. Dexter would have known what to do. Just when I thought I might have to wrestle with it, I realised the rat poison we had put up there a few weeks before had worked its magic and he was stiffer than queens upper lip. During the commotion I managed to put my right butt check through a section of GIB board. So it was time to get another dose of therapy on our bedroom ceiling....