Well it seems like we've had our spring, bypassed summer and have arrived at Autumn once more. It's cold, drizzly and horrid. And to make matters worse, our local cat operatic society has started practising in our garden in the early hours of the morning. Judging by the indentations in my vegetable plot I'd quite confidently say they were doing so on my finely raked, well fertilised soil, too. If they're not pooing in it, they're performing Carmina Burana on it. Animals just have no respect. Even my little cat sat upright at the howls, responding to his primal instinct to join the chorus line.
I think I may have to convert my plot to a walled garden. With watchtowers and searchlights. And tripwires.