I’ve had some rare time off. I have been working seven days a week, mostly thirteen hour days, since January on my latest book. I have no idea how these celebrities write their novels AROUND their busy lives while working, presenting, travelling, learning lines. I must ask them for tips. Anyway, I digress.

The big pots outside my house have been full of weird looking weeds and triffid-like things for over a year so I embraced my inner Percy Thrower, bought myself some compost and plants and had a lovely merry time just pottering and potting. I even got out the spade and dug a border in the garden and soaked some sunflower seeds in the hope that they’d awaken and not realise that I’ve started them off weeks after I should have.

It was like balm on my soul, no wonder people find happiness in gardens because I’ve had the most wonderful time away from the screen, just ‘doing’ something gentle and rewarding. But I do have to give a shout out to the man who looks after the gardening part in the Range down Harborough Hills because he saw me deliberating over two purple flowers and came over to tell me was hardy and what would need bringing inside to a greenhouse when the temperature dropped. He was kind and informative and really knew his onions and I totally appreciated it. So thank you. Also - I’ll know my onions next year as well, because I bought some seeds.

I think someone had a few too many sherberts last week after a football match and took to social media to ask for a statue for European treble winning player – and of course Barnsley lad – John Stones. God bless him, the man on Facebook was the advocate you want if you were chasing a statue. He tagged in everyone to help, the papers, the TV, Dan Jarvis, the Chron, Manchester Evening News, Capital Radio, Bethany England, Erling Haaland, Sheffield Wednesday (which didn’t go down too well) plus many MANY more. All power to him for trying.

Sadly the post has vanished – maybe the cold light of day shone too harsh a light on his own valiant efforts. But understandable that a true football fan was carried away by something as emotional as one of your own helping to win the holy Trinity. But what was confusing was that our gent, after his John Stones statue had been erected, then wanted it ‘closely followed by one of Kipper Jackson and Barbie Jo’. I know one of those names but Barbie Jo – anyone?

A couple of weeks ago there was a piece at the front of the Chronicle about trains going to Wembley when Barnsley were playing there and the observation by Coun Kevin Osborne (now THERE’S a Labour councillor who cares about his constituents and does his best for people who aren’t even in his ward) that he found at least 19 different fares between Barnsley and London. I get this all the time because I’m always booking trains for London.

Last week I got a first class ticket for only £35 but if I’d gone just a little later it would have cost me in excess of £450. In a couple of weeks, I’ll have no choice but to take a train that will cost my publisher’s (thank goodness) an eye watering amount. It’s actually cheaper for me to go there the previous night, stay over and have some snap at St Pancras. Yes, the price difference is staggering and like Kev says, absolutely needs looking at. Madness.