We had a lovely day, and thank you all for braving the Oyster Festival traffic and wandering down the quieter end of town. We ate all the puddings, drank all the tea and sat around chatting in the garden in just the right weather, not too hot, and no rain. Entrance money went to The Conservation Foundation, David Bellamy’s charity that sponsors Gardening Against the Odds, who I’ve just interviewed for the Telegraph. Friend Nicola Smith brought along two of her blue egg-laying Broughton Blues who had fine time in the garden.

I’ve had Solomon – type decisions to make in the hen department. Clio’s dear little bantam hatched out just the one chick. Not her fault, the other eggs weren’t fertile. So, if it’s a hen she’ll stay with mum and if it’s a cockerel – he’ll probably go for the pot, (fingers crossed not) but either way, I still don’t have any occupants for the henhouse.

I could have hatched out more eggs – though Orpington eggs are like hens’ teeth in this part of the world, and if you have any next spring, I’d love to hear from you – but it’s getting late in the season, so have decided to wait. Hopefully, by then, the fox – who hasn’t been seen since, may have died, and maybe his successor won’t be so bold.

It was fun to see hens in the garden again, but I think I’m wiser to wait. In the meantime, Ludo and I have been harvesting apples and damsons (poaching and freezing for autumn tarts and sauces), and watching the butterflies on the wildflowers.