We were woken up this morning by the unspeakable dreadfulness of little buzzy flies, circling around our heads and landing on our faces.
This happened again and again, until eventually we were roused from half-dreamy attempts to swat them, and could not sleep any more.
This was not an unfamiliar experience, as it happens, although never ever before has it happened to us in this country. It was a terrible summertime nuisance when we lived in France, however, and to be honest, it was one of the reasons that I did not mind so much when we left.
In France we managed the problem by hanging mosquito nets over all the beds. The flies were an endless problem there, and occasionally bit, with needle-like stings.
We thought that one morning’s early awakening in ten years probably did not justify the purchase of mosquito nets here, but all the same it was not an experience that we cared to repeat, so when we got up I rushed out to the chemist for insect-repellent spray, and to the health food shop for citronella oil. You put citronella oil on your pillow and it makes your eyes water a bit but it does help to keep them away. We used to spray it on our cow in France, who was endlessly tormented by the same flies, and who passed every summer in a state of angry, tail-lashing misery, which did not make for peaceful milking.
We have found that eating garlic helps as well. The flies do not like the sour smell, any more than vampires do, and it helps to discourage all but the most ravenous. The thing is that you have got to eat quite a bit to make a difference, which keeps everybody away and is anti-social in a taxi.
We were cross with the flies, although they did not seem to care much, because we were already tired after our disrupted sleep of the last few days, and because we had worked late and not gone to bed until long after two. Hence we woke up in a glowering sulky mood, which took the coffee and the dog-emptying to blow it away.
Fortunately for the poor sweltering dogs, the heat has abated a little. There is a cool breeze now, which has roused them from their panting torpor, but which is disappointing to see, because of course it might herald the end of the glorious heatwave. I have been enjoying the sunshine very much, although it is making my feet fat and achy and my nose blistered. I do not have aspirations to beauty, and so do not mind this.
Oliver has just discovered the delights of peeling sunburn. Life is full of small happinesses.
I stopped there because the evening got ridiculously busy, and has stayed that way up until right now. Well, not quite right now, obviously I am at home now, having emptied the dogs and filled the dishwasher and counted the takings and had a shower and squirted myself liberally with insect repellent, ready for morning.
This is an elderly person’s version of the Marilyn Monroe theme of nightwear, practical rather than thrilling.
The night has been exhaustingly busy. There was a chap in a wheelchair, who had been let down by another taxi company and who was sitting forlornly by the side of the road, so of course I had to take him despite my useless ineptitude with the whole wheelchair contraption in the back of my taxi. This was not helped along by him not having the first clue either, and it took us so long to load that Mark went to Ambleside and back whilst we were doing it. I was very glad he was back, because he told us that we had done everything all right and showed us how to fasten the seatbelt.
I managed to get him out at the other end, with some clattering and apologies, but could not get the back of the car fitted together again, and had to enlist more help from Mark Then I had to stop for a wash, because the whole affair seemed to have made me revoltingly grimy and covered with grit and oily smears.
There was a chap who wanted to go to Barrow and who slept all the way.
There were some drunken men from Liverpool who assured me they were friends with my husband, and wondered if I might like to hear the sort of things he said about me.
There were some smelly dogs, who I liked better than the men from Liverpool.
There were a couple of hen parties.
It is almost half past three in the morning now, and I am almost too tired to write another sentence. I am ready for bed.
Have a picture of the sunset.
