Sarah Todd: We had it cracked for GYS until my idea became a curate’s egg

But this scramble-brained idiot forgot to fill out the entry form for “unusual-shaped egg” and missed the closing date.

The show secretary was very apologetic about not being able to help, saying the catalogue had already gone off to the printers.

“Well, what are we going to do with it now?,” asked the eggsasperated (sorry, couldn’t resist) children.

A suggestion of putting it on display, so all their egg customers could marvel at its Jurassic proportions, went down like the proverbial lead balloon.

We’ve been flicking through all the schedules for the local shows, but none seem to have quite the right category – or are too far off and the egg will be rotten by then.

“If they don’t crack it open, how will they know?,” asked the son, who was told that, knowing our luck, it would probably splat in the car on the way and stink us out for the rest of the summer.

As ever, the younger generation are sweet in their preparations for the Yorkshire Show. They’re having a big push on the horse muck sales to rake in some spending money. They still have a little bit left from Bramham Horse Trials, which, much to their disgust, had only one toy stall this year.

Their father is just as excited as he wants to change his vehicle and already has a tight timetable of which stands to visit.

The daughter will do the usual of going around the corner to the horse lorries, stomping up and down the ramps with the determined look of a bona fide potential purchaser.

There has been some wonderful correspondence about a mention made about penpals. An amazing number of Country Week readers have had lifelong pen and paper friendships.

One lady from Askrigg, now 72, has been writing to Australia since the age of eight, when her school received parcels from the other side of the world in commemoration of the Royal Wedding. After 50 years, she travelled to Adelaide and finally saw her friend in the flesh.

It’s been a joy to receive so many letters myself – reiterating the point that they’re worth preserving in our email age. Somebody who lives just a stone’s throw away has written to a penpal in Dallas, Texas, for more than 50 years.

The children keep pestering me to write the sort of stories that they like to read. It would be lovely, but life always seems to get in the way.

One springs to mind now, “The Massive Egg”…