It has not been a good year for the two big pots of herbs by our front door. Or should I say ‘‘the two big pots by the front door that used to contain herbs’’, as the only herb left is a rather tatty thyme bush, though some chives may yet emerge again when the weather warms up, and possibly even the tarragon (I doubt it).

First of all I failed to water the pots for most of last summer - wielding a hose with crutches is not easy. Bryan is not a pot waterer and I kept forgetting to remind him.

Then as the drought began to bite, the wallabies began to bite too - anything they could get their paws around or teeth into that was remotely edible. Wallabies don’t like thyme much, except the new tender leaves, but they do enjoy chives, tarragon, basil and winter savoury (wallabies are true gourmets).

Then the lyrebirds got in on the act, scratching up most of the pot’s soil in case there were some interesting wriggling things. (There must have been because they kept digging, and they must have eaten them all as they have stopped digging).

So it is time to plant again. Time for thyme, of course - we use a lot of thyme, preferably the small-leaved twiggy stuff, far more fragrant than ‘pizza thyme’ or any soft-leaved version. I tie it in a bundle that can be removed at the end of cooking, as the leaves and stems never soften, or rub it off its stems and whizz with other ingredients if it needs to be added to something like stuffing.