.......and (if you have land) the living isn't always easy. But, like money, beer and dogs, you can't have too much of it – especially if you've got a posse of fat & perennially hungry horses to feed. And if you're lucky enough to have a field or two which you can keep Trigger and his pals out of during the spring, you'll be able to cut your own hay. Depending on how much rain God has chosen to provide and how much the grass has grown (and it varies hugely – bone dry for months in 2012, when fodder prices soared - and torrents of the stuff this year, making it difficult to harvest) this can save you a small fortune – and also means you can keep an eye out for (and pull up) ragwort – innocent looking enough, but potentially deadly when dried & baled.

It's only a handful of weeks since the last school holiday and, whoopee – the next one is now just days away. Great. From the kids point of view, French trimestres - like ticks on a buffalo's backside - are but minor irritants, punctuating the calendar year and interrupting an otherwise blissful existence. For their parents, the yawning gaps in between school terms serve only to remind them that they chose the wrong profession - and how the hell they're going to fill the next 10 weeks.

Dear Sky, Topsy and Ziggy – thank you for your email (which, as requested, I haven’t printed out - and yes, I’m sure mother nature will reward me in my next incarnation). I understand that your father, the 3rd Earl, has – as you so delicately put it – snuffed it. I note your other comments as to his passing, and whilst you were clearly dismayed when he eloped with the under footman, it seems his will – and final act of largesse – has proved him to be suitably repentant.