Very odd. The front (south facing) wall of our bedroom. A patient scritch, scritch, scritch suggestive of a persistent attack on stone. Miss Kit staring hypnotised at the plaster, wondering what she can do about it. At one point more than 20 years ago, we had an old house in Crail with stone exterior walls and plaster of lime and horsehair stood out from the stone on studding. There was for a time a hole beside where we’d put in a fireplace, and my then cat, the unforgettable Nefret, used to climb about inside the walls on the studding as if it was was a system of ladders. You’d sometimes have an eerie realisation that she was passing by, inside the wall, her passage marked by a gentle rustle of falling fragments of lime plaster and ancient dirt. We put a stop to it after the day she fell through the bathroom ceiling & broke the Professor’s glasses. We are on the whole inclined to feel that encouraging Miss Kit, who is in any case, a lot less brave than Nefret, to get into the walls will only cause trouble. But I’m not at all sure what’s going on. Jackdaws and crows, who surround us, have a horrid habit of eating putty, and have a sort of grasp on the principles of masonry. The location of the noise matches up with a rather vulnerable looking bit of stonework outside which may have had its mortar removed. Or something could have got in already, which is more what it sounds like — but if so, why there? And what? It certainly sounds like excavation, as if something or other is trying to chip out lebensraum within the interwall space.