I am happy to say that even as I write, Mr Tonka Toy is down at the dam with a large orange digger, consolidating with a will, and installing concrete pipe. We hope, therefore, that last week’s episode can be declared over. But when I came home from work, I found that there had been much activity at the other end of things, where the burn comes in to the lake. While I was away, the Apparitional Gamekeeper had performed prodigies of activity cutting down fallen but still sprouting Scotch pines, to reveal what is really rather a charming little island at the head of the lake. This will become more beautiful; there will be a bit of earth-moving to improve its shape; it will acquire an urn and a couple of decorative trees. But the question is, what is it called? I referred to it, without thinking, as Eel Pie Island, just because I like the name. Everyone had come on the tour of inspection, even Miss Kit (wailing, as she hurried along behind us, lest she get lost in the big wood by herself). Labrador Island, said the labradors. Grey Cat Island, said Mrs Grey. ‘WAAAAA’ said Miss Kit, which possibly cast a vote for Kitten Island, but more probably related to the fact that everyone else was standing of the far side of a four-foot-wide stretch of water. The Northern Professor said he had thought of Pie Island. The issue remains unresolved, and we have yet to consult Dr Biswell. Given what life is like up here there might be a case for calling it Laputa. Or Hy Brazil.