Schreeeeech

This is one of the reasons I am so tired. The nest is just opposite my bedroom window. If the chicks are not yelling for food then the adults are attacking anything that moves within 200 metres, in the noisiest way possible. And it's not just during the day it's in the middle of the night. Can you tell I'm pissed? Having spent the last three days stuck inside, I have had to listen to the incessant screeching constantly. Bah.
I am feeling slightly better though, antibiotics kicking in. On the up side, forced rest means I have watched almost everything on Netflix involving Benedict Cumberbatch. I need Sherlock to come up with a solution to my seagull nightmare. Although it would be too mundane for him I suppose. I wonder if Conan Doyle ever had this problem when he lived in Edinburgh?