ALL is safely gathered in and the combine has been washed down and its interior blown clean in preparation for its winter storage. John has not sold any of the wheat yet. The grain shed is bulging.

The price today of wheat, at £52 a ton, is the same as it was 30 years ago. Bread and biscuits however cost considerably more. John has been negotiating the sale of the field beans, which we hope will go without needing to be dried. It is a filthy enough job to dry the corn but when the drier is going for the beans, the noise is overpowering and the dust black and filthy. I haven't hung any washing out for weeks even though it has been sunny. Everything goes over the airer in the kitchen, as it would just need rewashing if hung outside.

With all the combining finished, the race is on to get the land worked up and redrilled. Yet again we are not drilling any rape. It is an expensive crop to grow and the returns are poor.

It is not all work and no play however, and you would be forgiven for thinking that farmers had got their dates muddled up and were building bonfires for November 5, at least two months too early. But no. The reason is for bonfires being lit on the night of September 16 - beacon fires to follow the old tradition of lighting fires to warn of danger. In this case the threat to liberty and livelihood. Also a good backdrop to the preliminary meeting of coach parties going to London for the Liberty and Livelihood March on September 22. Wonder where our esteemed leaders will be that day?

We are also just recovering from the reality of a week's visit from our granddaughter and assorted families. I had forgotten the amount of equipment necessary to the well-being of one little baby. Swing, carrycot, travelling cot, baby travel system, bouncer, mobile, play mat, play gym and bumper pack of nappies. Plus laundry requirements. Luckily we are not swamped with bottle sterilisers and warmers, as baby Jessica is breastfed, otherwise I do not think there would be a free inch of space in the house.

She is gorgeous. Only needs 100pc attention from all of us and does not seem to relish any less. The dogs were a little hesitant on meeting Jessica, and Bud, the Jack Russell, went underneath a chair and refused to come out. Holly, the spaniel, would just sit on her given the chance and Meg the Labrador and Nell the sheepdog, just accepted the baby as another part of the extended family.

Nell's tolerance of the baby was welcomed. She has started to give more than a playful nip to the back of John's knee when we are fetching the sheep up, and John is currently sporting a matching set of bruised teeth marks at the top of his calves. So far Nell has not had a go at me, although I am warier of her than John, who tends to go into hyper arm waving and very colourful language when the sheep will not go where he intends. This excites Nell, and the language probably distresses her too.

I occasionally feel the same way as Nell about John, when I have brought the sheep up and he hasn't got his act together and opened up the gates for the sheep to move into a different field. I too wave my arms, or display a digit or two at the end of them, and also emit a stream of colourful language.

Perhaps I should try biting him instead.

Updated: 10:29 Wednesday, September 18, 2002