The Met Office was good enough to tell us we had about thirty hours off from the deluge. It’ll start again tomorrow afternoon, apparently. So this was an Extreme, or at least, Emergency Gardening day, trying to claw out some of the awful mess which has accumulated in this summer of endless rain. As we dead-headed and scrabbled through the wet weeds, we were finding snails everywhere. If the Olympic committee should happen to decide that snail-hurling is a sport, then you may yet find me in central London in four year’s time. I have a certain aesthetic objection to standing on them, so whanged them in the general direction of the paddock, beginning to feel like someone in a horrid story by Patricia Highsmith. The last major event of the day was trimming the box hedge. I started doing this about six, when a cool, grey evening was settling in upon us, and by the time I was on the home straight, I was being eaten alive by midgies and mosquitos. I must have been bitten about fifty times. Last year, our Malaysian Godpapa suggested Bonjela for taking the sting out of bites, and I’m happy to say that it worked like a charm (backed up by antihistamine). All the least attractive denizens of the garden seem to be revelling in the current climate, unlike the rest of us.