VERY occasionally, creeping around on the carpet in our snug, I find a soot encrusted hornet. The first time I found one I nearly freaked. Apart from the fact that it was leaving sooty smudges on my pale green carpet, it was enormous. If I, or one of the grandchildren had stood on it, we would have received a nasty sting I suspect. It never got to that. A jam jar prison soon encased the monster and a swift exit to the dustbin followed.

I have since learned that the worst thing you can do to one of these insects is squash it. Hornet stings, used to kill prey and defend hives are more painful to humans than typical wasp stings. Individual hornets can sting multiple times and they don’t die after they have stung you either. If you squash one they release a pheromone that can cause other hornets to attack, so don’t. Just take them to the bin is my motto. Preferably in a jam jar.

We never have found out where these intruders originate from, although the chimney is a good guess as they are so sooty. But the chimneys in both sittings rooms have been swept and still the hornets show up. When there was a hornet’s nest in a hedge, the approach was totally different. It was virtually flamethrowers at dawn with John in beekeeper gear to smoke out the nest which was a menace to any rural rambler.

So when I discovered a wasp nest outside my bathroom window in Spain I was not best pleased. Although the most beautiful construction, a delicate ball of paper cells fashioned from chewed up wood, I was not minded to stand around for a long time admiring this miracle of nature. True, the wasps going in and out if the nest appeared docile and peaceful. But they were not reading my mind which I am afraid was bent on destruction. Especially when I trod on a worker wasp on the bathroom floor and got stung. The nest had to go. My sister agreed. “I know the nest looks wonderful,” she said. “But you should get rid of the wasps whilst it is still fairly small. Later it could be a real problem.”

But when. And how? In the end I waited till dead of night, made sure all the doors and windows were shut, apart from the one I intended to dodge into, and let rip with a can of insecticide. The next morning I felt terrible. On the window sill lay a pile of wasp corpses. The nest no longer, literally, a hive of activity. Now just an empty home. Any feelings of remorse however have swiftly dissipated. Doing a spot of recreational weeding for my sister This afternoon I was alerted to an intense buzzing around my head. Another nest.This time attached to the branch of a lemon tree in the garden. Clearly having a break away from the farm is a dangerous occupation. Never mind. Back home next week for harvest.