Minerva's in trouble, what with this hot wet weather we've been having, she's taken to going out in her front garden in the early hours to, as she says 'pop off some dirty froggie food' It took me a while to work out she meant snails.
Seems she arms herself with a torch and a copy of The Daily Express and when she comes across one attacking her Holly Hocks, whacks them into oblivion.
Well her enthusiasm got the better of her last night, she was out there bent over a particularly large specimen when Tristan our neighbourhood beat officer was passing, he caught a sight that I think prematurely aged him, poor Minerva had completely forgotten to put her night dress on. Tristan said he thought he'd caught a reflection of the moon, until closer inspection. Oh well, good night dear diary.