The other day the door way to the greenhouse (the door is open at this time of year) was occupied by a spider's web. I left it alone at first, but on the following day, as I had to gain entry, I had no alternative but to destroy it, its architect and owner occupier having abandoned it for a while. Today the web is restored in the same place and the spider is back at its centre.. She has, presumably, learnt a lesson from the story about Robert de Bruce, King of Scotland, who was inspired by the persistence of a spider struggling to climb a web in the mouth of the cave where he was hiding from the English, to come back and fight again.
Stepping aside in the street to allow an elderly lady to pass, Heidi and I were rewarded when she turned back and introduced herself as a neighbour. Today we meet her again and she reminds us of our earlier meeting. And they say that Tunbridge Wells people are stand-offish.
Book marks are one of life's great comforts. I have invented one which folds over the top of a page and consequently doesn't fall out of the book. Unlike the variety that clips on to the page it leaves no ugly mark. But, in my view, there is no better book mark than the ribbon, glued at the top to the spine of the book, which hangs down over the page. The Bibliotheque de la Pleiade edition of A la recherche du temps perdu, which I am reading with increasing enjoyment, has two such ribbons. One, I use to mark my slow progress; and the other, to open at the appropriate page of the notes and textual variations addendum, which is usually worth while, when, thanks to the ribbon, access is easy.