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	<title>Comments for visitshanklin.net - magazine</title>
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	<link>http://www.visitshanklin.net/magazine</link>
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	<lastBuildDate>Thu, 13 Sep 2012 10:55:05 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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		<title>Comment on A Cat’s move to the Island by Mac</title>
		<link>http://www.visitshanklin.net/magazine/?p=927#comment-38</link>
		<dc:creator>Mac</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Sep 2012 10:55:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.visitshanklin.net/magazine/?p=927#comment-38</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[(I wasn&#039;t going to bother you today Kerry, but in view of your sjbeuct I will try and make a non-Troll comment)I mercilessly shoot and kill greys with spring traps because they: A) take over my barn owl boxes, deny them to the owls and damage them. I have invested much time and money in these boxes (in case you don&#039;t know they have to be large -almost like little dog kennels). That alone is enough for me to eliminate them. I am very fond of barn owls.B) attack eggs and nestling birds. I have seen attempts to gnaw into the smaller nestboxes. Squirrels are clever and birds that make open nests, like robins and blackbirds, don&#039;t stand chance. Many native animals prey on nests of course but few will physically attack a box.C) kill newly planted trees by barking them (I haven&#039;t had this problem yet but others have been plagued by it and I have planted hundreds of pounds worth of trees).Of course, I don&#039;t know if reds would be the same. It just so happens the only squirrels around are greys (I saw one black variant and shot that too. Apparently their higher testosterone levels make them more aggressive so I felt threatened). I think reds do go for nests.Unlike the neighbours I don&#039;t have any trouble with them on the bird feeders, either. Word of my murderous nature has got around.I&#039;ve eaten plenty of wild animals but to me squirrels just look like rats. One day I may overcome my sense of disgust. The body seems very dense and meaty  if you drop it into water it sinks like a stone  it is a shame to waste the meat if I&#039;m killing them anyway.I could imagine that in a city they do no real harm, and that just leaves people to observe their undoubted cuteness and intelligence. It&#039;s easy to see how some people become fond of them, especially towndwellers. I&#039;m just not one of them.Footnote. Last summer, to my utter delight, for the first  time I saw a barn owl hunting in the meadow next to the boxes. Later it was joined by another, plainly they were raising a brood though not in boxes. I had high hopes that one of the boxes might be occupied this year. Sadly, the recent prolonged cold spell followed immediately by flooding will almost certainly have done for them.]]></description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>(I wasn&#8217;t going to bother you today Kerry, but in view of your sjbeuct I will try and make a non-Troll comment)I mercilessly shoot and kill greys with spring traps because they: A) take over my barn owl boxes, deny them to the owls and damage them. I have invested much time and money in these boxes (in case you don&#8217;t know they have to be large -almost like little dog kennels). That alone is enough for me to eliminate them. I am very fond of barn owls.B) attack eggs and nestling birds. I have seen attempts to gnaw into the smaller nestboxes. Squirrels are clever and birds that make open nests, like robins and blackbirds, don&#8217;t stand chance. Many native animals prey on nests of course but few will physically attack a box.C) kill newly planted trees by barking them (I haven&#8217;t had this problem yet but others have been plagued by it and I have planted hundreds of pounds worth of trees).Of course, I don&#8217;t know if reds would be the same. It just so happens the only squirrels around are greys (I saw one black variant and shot that too. Apparently their higher testosterone levels make them more aggressive so I felt threatened). I think reds do go for nests.Unlike the neighbours I don&#8217;t have any trouble with them on the bird feeders, either. Word of my murderous nature has got around.I&#8217;ve eaten plenty of wild animals but to me squirrels just look like rats. One day I may overcome my sense of disgust. The body seems very dense and meaty  if you drop it into water it sinks like a stone  it is a shame to waste the meat if I&#8217;m killing them anyway.I could imagine that in a city they do no real harm, and that just leaves people to observe their undoubted cuteness and intelligence. It&#8217;s easy to see how some people become fond of them, especially towndwellers. I&#8217;m just not one of them.Footnote. Last summer, to my utter delight, for the first  time I saw a barn owl hunting in the meadow next to the boxes. Later it was joined by another, plainly they were raising a brood though not in boxes. I had high hopes that one of the boxes might be occupied this year. Sadly, the recent prolonged cold spell followed immediately by flooding will almost certainly have done for them.</p>
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		<title>Comment on Childhood Holidays on The IOW by Penny Duggan</title>
		<link>http://www.visitshanklin.net/magazine/?p=939#comment-29</link>
		<dc:creator>Penny Duggan</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Jan 2012 14:38:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.visitshanklin.net/magazine/?p=939#comment-29</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[As the &#039;big sis&#039; in these photographs, I thought I&#039;d comment on these childhood holiday memories.

I&#039;m not sure why we liked to play human wheelbarrows (first photograph here), but we did. My little sister was always the wheelbarrow. We loved to build sandcastles and this involved many trips up and down the beach to obtain sand of the right consistency, pebbles for decoration and water for the moat.

And what about the sheer excitement when the tide was coming in, as the waves crept closer and closer to our belongings and we moved higher and higher up the beach until we ran out and had to abandon the last remaining strip of sand.

When not on the beach we made the most of our Vectis Rovers. Bus journeys seemed to take forever but were all part of the fun: upstairs on the open deck when we could; crowded into the lower deck with steamed-up windows when it was raining.

We did the same days out every year but we never tired of them. Blackgang Chine (still the world&#039;s best maze, the Crooked House, clambering over dinosaurs and riding the horses in Cowboy Town); ferocious baboons, goats and geese at Robin Hill (all cadging for our packed lunches), the chairlift and coloured sands of Alum Bay, the donkeys at Carisbrooke Castle, paddling in the isle-shaped pool at Ventnor, and Crazy Golf at Rylstone Gardens in Shanklin (dad always won). Evening entertainment was being scared to death walking back from Sandown to Shanklin beneath the talk dark cliffs, or dancing to &#039;Brown Girl in the Ring&#039; and &#039;Zorba&#039;s Dance&#039; on Shanklin Pier.

Lots of very happy memories.]]></description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As the &#8216;big sis&#8217; in these photographs, I thought I&#8217;d comment on these childhood holiday memories.</p>
<p>I&#8217;m not sure why we liked to play human wheelbarrows (first photograph here), but we did. My little sister was always the wheelbarrow. We loved to build sandcastles and this involved many trips up and down the beach to obtain sand of the right consistency, pebbles for decoration and water for the moat.</p>
<p>And what about the sheer excitement when the tide was coming in, as the waves crept closer and closer to our belongings and we moved higher and higher up the beach until we ran out and had to abandon the last remaining strip of sand.</p>
<p>When not on the beach we made the most of our Vectis Rovers. Bus journeys seemed to take forever but were all part of the fun: upstairs on the open deck when we could; crowded into the lower deck with steamed-up windows when it was raining.</p>
<p>We did the same days out every year but we never tired of them. Blackgang Chine (still the world&#8217;s best maze, the Crooked House, clambering over dinosaurs and riding the horses in Cowboy Town); ferocious baboons, goats and geese at Robin Hill (all cadging for our packed lunches), the chairlift and coloured sands of Alum Bay, the donkeys at Carisbrooke Castle, paddling in the isle-shaped pool at Ventnor, and Crazy Golf at Rylstone Gardens in Shanklin (dad always won). Evening entertainment was being scared to death walking back from Sandown to Shanklin beneath the talk dark cliffs, or dancing to &#8216;Brown Girl in the Ring&#8217; and &#8216;Zorba&#8217;s Dance&#8217; on Shanklin Pier.</p>
<p>Lots of very happy memories.</p>
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