The little bastards can read!!!

I wander out into the front garden to find the lawn pulverised by moles. A neat trail leads from under the fence - almost exactly where the sign was placed.

I stand with mouth agape. The front garden is my pride and joy. (I have low standards). Now it looks like Nagasaki after a drunken visit from Frank Spencer during the 1987 hurricane.

Furiously, I stomp down the tunnels, then prowl around for several minutes brandishing the nearest thing that lies to hand - a Stuart Surridge 333 Turbo signed personally by Graham Gooch who, in an ironic twist, does look a bit like a mole when you come to think about it.

Mr and Mrs Short Tony emerge and point and laugh a bit.

A couple of commenters the other day mentioned Jasper Carrott. I don't know much about the chap, but I guess he did some form of mole routine. Although as I understand it he comes from Birmingham, so unless moles have developed a penchant for burrowing through concrete in order to dig up the floors of high rise flats, I suspect he might have been making things up for comic effect.

That was unworthy. Forgive me Birmingham, I am cross and am not thinking straight.

This is deadly serious.

He will pay for this.