I meant to post a letter in Yagnub today, but I forgot until half past five, which was after the last post. So I walked round to the village post box, so at least it will go at 9am tomorrow. There are some new bungalows, built on the field opposite and, because of the restrictions, I’ve not met any of my new neighbours. I went past a man and woman chatting, he in his garden and she on the pavement and thought I should do something.

I usually do a circular trip rather than retracing my path, but cut through the centre of the circle. By this time, the man was alone, trimming his new hedge and I said hello as I went past. He greeted me in return in a friendly way, so I stopped to pass the time of day.

This isn’t much, is it? Well, it is for me. To engage a stranger in deliberate conversation, that is. Anyway, we chatted for a while, I introduced myself as his neighbour and so on. He and his wife have moved from Durham and they like it here. I must make more effort. You don’t make friends unless you do so.

Gosh, there are a lot of big slugs about this year. I know there’s been a lot of rain, but all the same. I’ve left them all. My ability to kill for my own convenience is decreasing all the time. For food, yes (normally someone else does it and I buy the meat or fish, of course) and for others to eat, also yes. Anything harmful to me or a pet, too, such as parasites. But I don’t kill a fly because it annoys me or a wasp because it might sting me, an aphid or slug because it’s eating a plant I want to eat or look at. I’m a bit squeamish about plants, come to that. At least I’m fine about eggs. Vegans would disagree, but I know how well I look after my chickens and they exploit me quite as much as I exploit them. Also, cheese would be impossible to eschew. So, even if I find I can’t kill vegetables, at some time in the future, I won’t actually starve.