Hundreds and hundreds of visitors came to the house on Monday.
Which is great, the people who tot up the figures will be pleased.
It's not too hard for me, as I am busy working, so don't expect any alone time anyway. It is more difficult for my family, who have to share their home with hundreds of other people every weekend and Bank Holiday. They're very good about it, and are accustomed to having volunteers tapping at the kitchen door, needing more milk or trying to track me down if I've selfishly popped home for two minutes to go to the toilet or something. And it's probably just as well the weather was too wet to sit out in the garden. If you do, you will find yourself becoming one of the attractions. Looking out of my kitchen window I saw a line of people, just gazing over the garden fence into the back garden.
They are understandably curious as to who lives there, and why it says "Private" on the gatepost. Which is a bit of a misnomer, as the one thing I cannot have here is privacy. I feel a strong affinity with zoo animals now. There's a reason why chimps behave as they do, you know.