Good morning, Britain.

An absolue gem this morning on ITV, as Piers Morgan takes on Liz Jones on veganism, and uses the wheat-production argument fairly comprehensively on her. And for all those who say vegans don't claim that meat eating is cruel - have a good listen to her language.

An indirect victim

Here's an interesting - if gruesome - one. It's one of the many hares that live - or lived - out on the arable acres of our farm, and has been savaged by the hare coursing gangs that drive over our fields late at night, uninvited and unwelcome. The hare would have been safe among the livestock fields, as they are fenced and locked; the hare coursers haven't started driving across those - yet - and do their foul work on the open wheat and barley fields. I'm waiting for the hunt sabs/League Against Cruel Sports to come out and confront these gangs they same way that they confront the fox hunts....but I think it'll be a long wait. Anyway, it's not a direct victim of arable farming, but it's worth telling the tale anyway.

Seagull food

Out drilling breadmaking wheat today, and providing a feast for a host of seagulls by ripping up slugs and worms from just under the surface of the ground. The reward for my generosity: they shat all over my windscreen

The words vegans use.

If I had a fiver for every time I've been told: "No, we vegans NEVER use emotive and accusing language about meat eaters!", I'd be able to give up farming. Odd, then, to see this letter in The Spectator this week. A reply has been sent.

Bruchid beetle

This little fellow is a bruchid beetle. He and ten billion on his closest chums got into my bean crop and make a right mess of it.  They drill little holes in each bean (also just visible in the picture). This means the crop is no good for human consumption, and is downgraded to animal feed. We sprayed insecticide to kill them early in the season, but the hot weather meant an enormous late flush - hence the damage. This one on my kitchen table was one of the late arrivals, and somehow survived the combine, the trailer and being bagged up for week or two, and so by the time I started cleaning up a sample of beans for germination and 'thousand grain weight' testing, he was probably feeling a bit groggy. Still, most of his chums will have perished in the field.

Flea beetles

It looks innocuous, but here I'm trying to save my oilseed rape crop. It was sown perfectly, in fabulous conditions, and had a hot rain the next day. It started to grow, but then the flea beetles arrived, and wiped the crop out. Until the ban on neonicotinoids, we could have kept them at bay with a coating on the seed itself. Now, we have to fill up the sprayer with pyrethroid insecticide, which is less than selective, and drive across the field. A lot of deaths.

Hopping to safety?

This poor little chap was trying his best to not be noticed among the stubble and straw. Luckily, we were having tea break, and were able to guide him to safety at the edge of the field. I bet many others weren't so fortunate.