Buzz

It is hornet season. They are twice as long as normal wasps, eight times as heavy and sixteen times as loud. They scoff at spiderwebs. They are attracted by the light and at night they hurl themselves against the windows, trying to break through. In the morning we sometimes find several lying dead on the ground, having concussed themselves against the glass. Fearnley was stung on the foot while sleeping last night - we couldn't find the culprit so we can't be sure that it was a hornet but it was certainly a big sting. Lots of anti-histamine.

Talking of unpleasant insects, I am now reading John Fowles' A Maggot. I found it hard going when I first read it years ago, but I thought I'd try it again since our friend Howard recommended it as one of his favourite books. And it is good. It's still hard going because of the language - it's an eighteenth-century mystery story, largely told in depositions by the main characters in eighteenth-century language, which makes it a tour de force for a modern author. But the build-up of the story is tremendous. Thanks to the internet, we can still read Robert Nye's review of the book in the Guardian from when it first came out in 1985. He liked the first two-thirds but thought the ending was 'rubbish'. A shame.

All the children have been away on choir courses this week. Fearnley's closing concert was last night, Herne and Philomena's is tonight. Then school starts on Monday....