Sunday, January 19

A sad end to yesterday's post, this morning I found the body of our potoroo in the front garden.  It's an intriguing mystery why the creatures come around the house to die.  Romantics might say they come towards humans looking for assistance and Marilyn thinks they might have been born here and are returning home to die.  It might be something as simple as that they associate the house with the food I often throw out.

Whatever the reason I now have a funeral to carry out this morning.