DAY 8, and the bumblers.......

A loud buzzing sounded behind us. Oh drat! Must be a fly, and a big one at that judging by the bigness of the buzz. A bit early in the year for flies though, but then it has been another mild and wet winter, and whenever we have had a drop of sunshine and gone outside to enjoy the warmth there has always been insects flying about, including midges and even bumble bees.

So Lester does a mini moan. His head has been engaged with heavy coding on his computer. I regard him as a boffin type of person, someone who goes deep into his mind to produce the reams of code which sits behind what you see on the computer screen. Interruptions are not good, particularly anything which buzzes. He goes into hunter mode, grabs the fly swot which is always kept on hand, and goes on the hunt.

He is now in the far end of the Half Barn. I hear him start moving a desk upon which is a stack of fabric waiting to be packed, for are we not in the middle of moving house from France to England........ and is not the area of the barn in which L is now moving things about the area in which there are several already packed boxes, although I have not sealed them yet because we do not know if, and when, we shall make the move.

Lock down you see. Day 8. No movement allowed on the roads. Police making frequent checks. Can go to supermarket, get medicines, walk dog but only within a 1 km radius of the home, and can only be out for an hour. Six months in prison and a huge fine threatened if you flout this rule three times in a month. We have to fill a form in to go outside the door to say who we are, where we are going, what time we left the house, and the date. It is for our own good, which we appreciate.


I hear L move the desk again.
"What are you doing!" I ask. I am in the middle of writing, which also requires me to be deep in my head, similar to how L is when he is coding.
"It's a bumble bee" he says.
My concentration is now broken, so I go to investigate.
"Where's the ladder", L says.
"You sold it" I said, watching as he starts to move the desk again, alarmed that he is shifting piles of things waiting to be packed, which could turn into untidy heaps quite easily.

He then tells me to go away. He says that he is going to move the desk underneath the velux window in the ceiling, and can I get a container with a lid, and get a move on as the bumble bee is flying dangerously close to the spider's web which should have been removed ages ago but hasn't, so is now a super duper web into which a bumble bee might get trapped. He says he is going to stand on the desk to reach the bumble bee, but even then he will be at full stretch.

I go into motherly mode, and tell him not to stand on the desk, for fear that he might take a tumble and render himself senseless. He asks where the ladder is again. I tell him again that he has sold it in preparation for the move. He tells me to go away again because I am fussing. I go.

The bumble bee is saved. I give L a hug for his heroism.

The next day, about the same time, and another buzzing sound starts up, and it is another bumble bee, flying in the same spot as the previous bumbler. And the next day the same. For five more days did bumble bees appear in the same area. All were saved.

For some reason, and by some miracle of nature, those bumble bees must have over wintered with us, the same as the owl in the barn has been doing. It is nice to know that we are useful to the lives of other beings which are not of human form and reminds us that we are part of the global life force.

Bye for now, and hope you are staying well wherever in the world you are.

Love and blessings,

Vx