Ellissa’s island life

Last week I suffered a Middle East Beatrix Potter moment. I had packed my two oldest kids onto the ridiculously early school bus and was settling down for a five-minute cuppa with my youngest Leo when I received a text from the compound manager: ‘Good morning, your rabbit is running around the compound and is eating new plants of three villas’.

Leo and I sprung into action and off we went in search of the fluffy culprit as I remembered reading somewhere that seven rabbits could eat as much as a sheep.

Once Leo was at school I took myself and another cup of tea outside on the porch for a few minutes relaxation with Lucky, my cat, joining me to bask in the morning sun.

I was admiring my sunflowers, the last of the season’s flowers before the big summer burn, when a couple of gorgeous green parakeets swooped swiftly down, grabbing my precious sunflower hearts in their beaks and settling on low branches in the nearest tree.

No one was more captivated than the cat who I could have sworn licked his lips.

As my colourful garden starts to fade, the sun bleaching the life out of it, back in the UK gardens are in full bloom.

The school holidays are almost within reach and dreamy thoughts of lush landscapes and rolling hills are starting to creep in, woodland picnics and lazy beach days.

One memorable not-so-warm beach day last year was in Lyme Regis, a quaint town in Dorset, and resulted in another bird encounter.

No visit to the English seaside is complete without freshly fried fish ’n’ chips, with the obligatory lashings of salt and vinegar, so we sent my brother off for the hot delights.

After a long queue he finally returned and we all sat down in striped deck chairs.

My brother unwrapped the paper package of goodness, skewered his cod with the take-away wooden fork, reached it to his mouth and then a fearless, pesky dive-bombing seagull swooped in and stole the whole thing, millimetres away from clawing his face. We were all flabbergasted.

Parakeets, or seagulls? Parakeets, any day!