Peacock pie.

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I have waited many hours and still sleep has not arrived. The night is warm but I dare not open the bedroom window because the noise of the peacocks in the garden is deafeningly loud - worse even than the bagpipes that tortured my ears when I lived in Scotland. As soon as sleep starts to creep over me one of the peacocks delivers one of its mighty squawks and that in turn starts the dog across the street barking. I think it’s coming close to the time to rid myself of the peacocks. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but having peacocks strolling around the garden has become a nightmare.