Bang the windowsill.

Bang the door.

Bang the bedhead.

Bang the lamp . . . oh damn . . . pick up the lamp.

It’s about owlets leaving and not even bothering to say good-bye after all I’ve done for them. Here we go:

Oh yeah

Everything leaves

Oh yes uh

(bang bang)

Without warning

Oh yes uh

(bang bang)

Squeaks from a beak

Crunch in a cheek

Mouse gone

Owl gone

Oh yes uh

(bang bang)

Everything goes

Oh yes uh

(bang bang)

Without warning

Not even in the morning

Rastafari

Uh.

I wrote it down quickly in my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary. It looks quite cool. But why have I turned into a Rastafarian at the end?

It was swishing my hair around that did it. I think I was imagining dreadlocks. Maybe that’s what Monty means about finding your Inner Maleness.

Maybe I have an Inner Rastafarian Bloke.

I think Blaise will get my rap, though. At least she likes me. Well, she thinks I’m unusual.

The wind had gathered, the temperature had dropped, and it felt like snow was on its way. Brrr.

I got into my snugly squirrel bed and put my feet on the hot-water bottle that Dibdobs brought me. It’s got a knitted jacket on it. Mr. Dobbins made it at his men’s knitting circle. And I do mean a jacket. With a collar and buttons.

I bet he’ll be able to help me a lot with our Taming of the Shrew—he’s constantly talking about his Inner Woman.

I still felt a bit chilly so I put my squirrel slippers on in bed for extra warmlies.

Then something thudded against my window. Maybe it’s a branch blown off by the wind. Or . . . no . . .

It had better not be Cain up to his old tricks!

I flung back my curtains and opened one of my windows to the chill night air. There on the windowsill was Little Lullah!

Or maybe Ruby?

No, it was deffo Lullah because her legs were so long and gangly.

I felt tears prick my eyes as I looked at her. Her owly yellow eyes were staring and blinking back at me. Oh, oh, she’d come to see me!! Because she loves me. I hope she didn’t hear the rap song.

I said, “Lullah, it’s me, your big owly friend. You remember me; I give you nice mice snacks.”

She raised her lower eyelids and fluffed out her feathers. “Woooooo.”

I felt so proud. She was wooing at me.

I said, “Wooo to youuuuu tooo. I didn’t mean it about the rap song; it was about other owlets, not you.” And I went to kiss the top of her head.

It must have startled her to see a big head coming towards her because she fell straight off the windowsill backwards into the garden.

I peered down into the gloom. My God, had I killed my offspring? But then I saw her flutter upwards. And immediately crash into the dustbin. She took off again and this time went straight into the garden shed. Finally she swooped off into the woods. I could see her bobbing up and down and crashing to the ground until it was too dark to see her anymore.