Wandering through the back lanes past the Hall last night, heading for a pub meal. Just around the bend there's a red stag - a good 6-pointer - standing in the middle of the road looking surprised.
"Heads up!" I say to the wife (she's busy texting a friend) which she does, just in time to see his back end disappearing into the bushes. I can see a further bunch in the crop on the right who look like they're going to stay where they are, but just then out comes a nice big hind and stands in the lane staring through the windscreen at my wife with those big wet soppy red deer eyes.
I'm muttering "Go away. Go AWAY" because I know exactly what this means.
And sure enough, once at the pub I'm not allowed to order my favourite starter ... venison carpaccio!