Remember from childhood Tales from the Riverbank,

and Pookie, and Little Grey Rabbit, and all those other similar stories: remember the friendly, avuncular kind old mole who was everyone's friend? Well! They've gone to the dark side. Every one of those moles from every story you can remember has gathered in my garden - this lawn, the bottom garden, the kitchen yard and even the entrance way - there are more tunnels than solid ground and more mole hills than one garden deserves.

I know, I know moles have to live somewhere, but their economic crisis can't be SO acute that the entire Welsh mole family has to live as an extended family in my garden, can it? You've got to feel sorry for old Granny Mole doing all the cooking! Perhaps they'll move on when she runs out of worms for the stew pot!