Wednesday. No school. Swimming lessons.
I try to cram in doing a week’s shop, getting chicken feed, filling the car with petrol, and finding a clothes recycling point all into a 45-minute slot.
On the way home, in someone’s front garden, we see an animal suspended by its hind legs in the middle of a tripod of wooden sticks.
‘Was that a dog?’ Iona asks.
‘Too big for a dog, it was a rabbit.’ Joe replies.
‘No, it was too big for a rabbit. ‘ Iona argues.
‘I think it was a hare.’ I say hoping that this will placate them both and that the conversation would move on to how many lengths they had to swim.
No, an animal hanging upside down from a tripod was far too an interesting topic to be dropped.
‘What were those men doing with that animal?’ Iona asks. She was not convinced about my hare theory.
‘They have tied it upside down by its legs. They will then cut the hare’s throat. All the blood will drip out. They will then take the skin off it and cook it.’ Joe replies pretty succinctly.
‘A bit like when you killed that chicken, Maman.’ Iona continues. ‘You hung the chicken up by its feet and cut its throat. Will they pull all its guts out like you did? Do you remember there were miles and miles of guts?’
These children have clearly seen too much rural life; we need to get back to City Life before too much damage is done, and FAST…