Six degrees at 8:30am, rising to an astonishing, hardly believable, jaw-dropping 25° in the garden at midday.

Carmine's toms have declared spring by spending the last few days ripping hell out of each other. Yesterday I could stand the caterwauling (and, indeed, the sight of bloodied cats) no longer and the Carmine Animal Hospital now has one very contrite fellow in lock-down, waiting for a visit to the vet.