“Life is a frail moth flying caught in the web of the years that pass.” - Sara Teasdale

We live quite to a park and there is other open space nearby too, perhaps that is why we get so many moths in our house during the summer months. They come into the bathroom, maybe they are attracted to the light, but I read somewhere that they like a humid atmosphere so perhaps that explains why they choose the bathroom. 

I rather like moths, they have beautiful markings and they don't really do any harm in the bathroom. I love having the chance to take a close look at their markings when they settle on the wall, they really are very beautiful in a more subtle and understated way than butterflies. The problem is that our cat Oreo has appointed himself moth catcher in chief and during 'moth season' he lurks in the vicinity of the bathroom ready to pounce on any unsuspecting moth which is careless enough to stray within his reach! I feel very sorry for the moths.

Since we have been back from holiday it seems as if the moths have a death wish, I gave found corpses in the bath damp and dying moths around the sink and moths turning up their toes on the window ledge. I don't know what is going on. On Friday I found the corpse of what I thought was a grasshopper in the bath. On closer inspection I found that it was a speckled bush cricket. The question is, how did it get there? Speckled bush crickets are flightless, they can jump but our bathroom is upstairs and only the small top window was open, so how could it possibly have got into the bathroom?

John Doe 20.07.07

Robbie and I were talking about rail journeys last night. We were discussing a person who has a ticket from Waterloo to Southampton but actually wanted to get off at Eastleigh. Robbie eventually announced what I had already worked out - that not all trains to Eastleigh went to Southampton. After thinking out loud for a further few minutes he said she could catch any train to Eastleigh because in theory she could change for Southampton. I asked if he was sure that it was a permitted route, but he fell about laughing and said I was turning into Barry Doe. At first I couldn't think who he was talking about so I told him that I only knew of John Doe and Jane Doe. Then I realised that Robbie was referring to the old man who writes the boring bits (that I don't usually read) in Rail. Actually I'm not being fair, what he writes is interesting in a narrow sort of way but it makes my brain hurt - and Robbie already does that, so I don't need any extra pain! Anyway, back to Robbie, he was being unusually dense and he had no idea who John Doe was, even when I told him that I must have learned about him by watching too much Quincey he still didn't know it was the term for an unidentified American corpse.