~ We have to wait at the temporary traffic lights at Quessoy. A huge tipper truck, a blue rectangle with a broad yellow stripe down it, is pouring its load of molten macadam onto the road. The hot tarry smell of it pours into the car through the open windows.
~ Wolf Hall, finished. Oh, I am going to miss Thomas Cromwell. Sometimes I'm not sure he could really have been so utterly likeable, but that's part of the wonder of it, that she makes you believe he was, malgré tout. And there will be a sequel.
~ I seem to have collected quite a lot of bugs. Hoverflies aren't really too difficult, they stay quite still. The really quick and tricky little buggers are these things,
humming-bird hawkmoths. Quite frequent,flying day and evening. In the heatwave of 2003, we had convolvulus hawkmoths, a handspan across, counting their tongues, and painted like something on a Japanese ceramic. I've not seen them here since. Perhaps if this weather keeps up... unfortunately, the weather the lizards and hawkmoths like is also the weather of hornets and ant invasions.
Update on my novel
3 hours ago