The broken window was replaced, at a much lower cost than Casa Nova, by Brendan-from-Charente. He is back here now, making shutters. He also brought a load of vine-wood and fired up the barbecue, and we had an English-speaking evening with three local couples who are his old friends. As it went dark, the solar lights came on. Pretty. Then the terrace lights were switched on, and a hornet arrived. And another. And... at least eight. We discussed the recent fuss about Asian hornets invading southwest France and murdering honeybees, but it no-one wanted to get close enough to see what kind of hornet these were.
Most of the guests said don't bother them and they won't bother you. The hornets stayed up in the roof area - until all the guests had gone, around midnight. And then one landed on my skirt. I whimpered and tried to shake it off, but it clung tightly. Brendan flicked it off, and it went only a few inches... upwards. Now it was on my top, over the left breast. I don't remember when I started to scream. It was moving towards my face. In utter panic, I tried to pull my top off without taking it over my head. Thank goodness that was when Brendan managed to knock the hornet off me and onto the floor.
I felt so embarrassed about the shrieking. None of the neighbours has mentioned the noise, but Ginette and Denis turned up this morning for a slightly more formal visit than usual.
They found the hornet nest (they are European hornets, yellower and bigger than Asian hornets but not so aggressive). It's in Yggdrasil the giant ash tree! It is apparently possible to get rid of the hornets with a Bombe but I may have to phone les Pompiers and ask them to make a Sortie.[0]
Yggdrasil is tinder-dry, and I'm worried about it.
[0] "Sorties des Pompiers" is an amusing section in the local paper giving a list and little report of each time the firemen have been called out in the week.
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