We were all going out for lunch with friends so I spent the morning in the garden with Her Maj, who we had to leave behind.

She wasn’t thrilled but together we walked The Estate (ok, our wee garden). I found a couple of potatoes had sprouted.

The flowers, with my you-will-not-use-this-as-your-lavatory netting, are going along well, ie still alive.  Hopefully, now it is warmer they will got the plot a bit better about growing.

I was just round the back of the garden when I heard a giant emission of gas!

The horses were all asleep in their paddock!   My money was on Iacs.  He is a great farter, even asleep.

We had a lovely long luxurious Sunday lunch (a homemade Thai feast – we all cooked) with friends – it’s been far too long – and then home late this afternoon with that full feeling of never eating ever again.  Not never.  Don’t even ask.

Once home, the girls and I went into the field to sit with Harry – now known as Harrel the Barrel for obvious reasons.

He has a new trick – if I spread my arms and shout “Come on, ‘en” then he leaves his Mum and gallops full pelt towards us.

Maggie shouts for him endlessly to come back to her.

He ignores her now he’s discovered us!

I think Harrol is growing horns. Hopefully not huge ones, like ‘Ster, but little nubbins none the less.

So please don’t offer any of us food. We can’t move. Not ever again.