Aug 13, 2020: Maize

Maize Maze day!

We haven’t been for a couple of years, or maybe we have, and it’s other years we’ve missed. But this year we were not allowed to miss it, Carole was adamant about that. If adamant means incredibly angry about the whole thing.

I have put it off all week because fuck me it’s been hot. I ain’t trudging round no field in the glaring sun… so today came up Milhouse for us, as it was nice and overcast and there was a breeze but it was still warm enough to get a sweat on.

We arrived at the maze early, as ever, so went to see some ducks and geese doing duck and geese things, and being trapped on one side of a bridge by children who refused to social distance the fuck off the bridge so we could cross it. So I can only imagine the fun classrooms will be come September, but hey ho.

When the maze opened we were the second people in. Carole likes to be in early. We get a head start, there’s less fat kids eating the corn, and it’s generally quieter in there. We got a map, a pencil (we buy a pencil every year and forget to take it back to use again the year after… they’ve gone up now. Inflation is a terrible thing), and the flag on a stick.

We set off.

I lost the map. Within minutes.

I had it, I lost it.



As a rule, we don’t use the map but this year’s maze wasn’t very maze-y in the traditional sense. There was a lot of open spaces for the passing of germ-encrusted people at a safe distance, and so a lot of the paths would open into areas that were large spaces with random corn walls dotted throughout. Which makes it bloody hard to solve, as a maze.

So we did use the map this year, after about half an hour of circling the same corn.

Or we tried to, but, you know, I lost it.

Carole hijacked another team and took a picture of their map. I pulled up the aerial shot of the maze from their Twitter page.

We didn’t lose either of those things.

Nor did we find the map I lost, despite us having to (as we always do) do the entire first circuit again because we missed one turning, and retracing our steps. So either someone found it and whisked it away for their own. Or, possibly, I never did lose it and it’s in a pocket on my trousers.

If it turns out to be that, though, I’ll never let on.