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the middle names, which we had to guess. It was all very tricky and they thought I was joking when I spelled out …A…N…T…. It took some vigorous arm waving to finish the message …O…N…Y…above the laughter.

is there to give it a go in the first place.I was always going to "work with the soil", according to my mum. Unlike my sister, I spent my early days mucking around in the garden, making mud pies (to throw at my sister), playing with worms and ants and helping my

and there was no sign of a nest (just the usual giant slugs, earwigs and some ant eggs). I'm not sure how I'll feel if it does start a family – my garden isn't big enough to support many – but for now I'm happy. Perhaps it's just a lone mouse scouting for a hibernation

mind, I seem more aware of the other inhabitants of my compost heap. Last Sunday I noticed some sort of eggs had been laid on the underside of the lid; further down there was an ants’ nest, while masses of worms, rove beetles and woodlice writhed

of ants scaled this giant, slicing through branches with their machines.I was quite upset but, ever the optimist, I used the opportunity to collect some local, native logs to make a nice wildlife habitat in my mum’s garden. I was sure she wouldn’t mind

been a perfectly ordinary word used in everyday language, rather than having the suggestive innuendo it has acquired today.At the end of my garden BioBlitz I’d found several species of hoverfly, ground beetle, ant and leafhopper. A large, but rather