Kent in the summertime is a wonderful spectacle; blue skies gleaming above beautiful countryside and a stunning coastline. The Garden of England does not, however, always smell of roses. This week, for example, near where I live, local farmers started doing a spot of muck-spreading. As their tanks trundled over their fields liberally distributing the excrement of heaven knows what (or perhaps that should read ‘who’), the smell swept the neighbourhood – infiltrating any open window or door it could find. Not, I can assure you, very pleasant. Although I suppose it does disguise the seemingly omn…
