“Nice jumper” said Granny – “Marks and Spencer’s?” I couldn’t help but noticing the tinge of sarcasm in my mothers’ remarks.

Actually my wife and I are big fans of M&S and my favourite present this Christmas was one of their cardigans (you know the sort as worn by the Granddad in those Werthers Originals ads), which I wear out despite of the howls of protest from the kids. So I was very please to hear announced this month that Marks and Sparks have launched a £200m “eco-plan” which will mean that by 2012 they will:

• become carbon neutral
• send no waste to landfill
• extend sustainable sourcing
• set new standards in ethical trading
• help customers and employees live a healthier lifestyle

This is ambitious – very ambitious. And, in the leadership vacuum left by our government on climate change, just the sort of responsible thinking we all need to apply to every aspect of our lives. It is to be applauded and supported.

M&S has been in the doldrums for quite a while now. Personally I would put the root of their decline way back in the 80’s when Mrs Thatcher declared that she always bought her underwear there – this conjures up the sort of mental image that could by association damage the reputation of the largest of firms. As it happens, Cathy also buys her knickers there, but I shall draw no more comparisons between her and the Iron Lady!

The farming press and the NFU (National Farmers Union) have seized upon all this as a piece of rare good news. M&S will be “Committing to buy as much food from the UK and Ireland as possible, double regional food sourcing within 12 months and grow our existing local supply networks. In addition, we will minimise the amount of food we air freight as well as labelling the food we import by air as 'flown'”.

All highly commendable, but the issue of food miles is becoming increasingly complex. For instance the Kiwis have done a report which shows that even after transporting the carcass half way across the world their lamb has a carbon footprint of less that a quarter of our home grown. While the International Institute for Environment and Development have concluded that “flown” fruit & veg from Africa, whilst contributing marginally to the carbon emissions challenge, supports over one million livelihoods in some of Africa’s poorest countries.

Nether-the-less, this is an admirable stance taken by M&S and let us hope that the likes of Tesco and Asda will be quick to follow suit.

Our sheepdog training (see entry for December 1st) continues apace, and despite starting off with what I would have classified as a fairly hopeless pack, there has been a marked improvement in each and every dog taking part. (That is except for one particularly handsome bearded collie, whose temperament and looks always suggested to me a career in advertising soft tissues rather that harassing sheep in a muddy field).

This week our trainer Bill outlined the assessment task that he intended to set for us at the end of the course.

Send the dog off to the far corner of the field and gather a small flock of quietly grazing ewes. Get your mutt to bring them back to you and ‘shed’ (split off) from the group a pre-specified number. Drive this bunch away form the flock and then persuade your canine partner to run around and ‘hold’ the sheep close enough to you to enable you to catch one with a leg crook. This differs from the conventional shepherds crook (as seen in all good nativity plays) insomuch as it is only half the length with a much narrower ‘crook’ designed to hook the back leg of a passing ewe and thus render it immobile. Once this is accomplished the dog must gather up all of the sheep again and drive them back to the far corner from whence they came.

As Bill was outlying this, and while the group practiced a bit of synchronised jaw dropping, I began to think, “You know, this might actually be possible”. Without wishing to blow my hairy companions trumpet (and why not – after all she is my dog and this is my blog), Morag is actually a bit of a star within the group. Her only fault is a tendency to do everything at 200 mile per hour and be a bit aggressive with dissidents amongst the flock – (you can always tell when she has finished a training session by the tell-tale trail of leg wool left in her wake).

The only way to curb her enthusiasm is by growling out the commands at the top of my voice. Whilst fairly effective this leaves me speechless for the rest of the day (no bad thing – some members of the family might say) and is simply not very elegant. The solution? An ACME dog whistle – as used by the pros.

Now, as a former army bandsman, I can get a decent note out of these tricky instruments. Indeed on a good day I can perform a passing rendition of God Save the Queen. However, in a windy field, with sheep running amok and the dog in selective hearing mode, it is only the neck string which saves my whistle from flying through the air as I try to blow, shout, and swear simultaneously. Though hardly ‘One Man and His Dog’, it is (so my fellow trainees inform me) nether-the-less quite entertaining.

Step 1: Scour the Internet for the very cheapest price – never mind that you are investing over £500 I something that should last you a lifetime. An hour’s investigation should be able to save you anything up to £15 and will ensure that your order will be dealt with by a call centre in Bangladesh and that your kit will arrive with several key components missing.

Step 2: Chose site with care. Allowing for maximum exposure to Northerly gales and minimum direct sunlight through shady trees.

Step 3: Send wife to purchase a dozen paving slabs to construct the base. Give her the measurements in imperial thus ensuring maximum chaos at the building merchants. Dig turf (on wet day) and lay out metric slabs in cement to cover an area 8’ x 6’.

Step 4: Wait for cement to go nearly dry before actually measuring the base of the greenhouse kit only to find that 8’ x 6’ was in fact only an approximation and with dusk closing in and the rain beginning to fall, quickly take up the slabs, dig a bigger hole and lay them again – this time spaced well apart to accommodate the base.

Step 5: Construct frame, meticulously following instructions that appear to have been translated from their original Japanese using the amusing but eccentric Google translation tool. Take care when tightening the nut & bolts supplied. A quarter turn too tight and the carefully engineered bolt will shear in half – a quarter turn to loose and your glass will fall out.

Step 6: Leave glazing several days until a mini tornado has snapped the ventilation catches and bent the frame subtly out of shape. This will ensure maximum frustration when trying to fix the toughened glass with the fiddly wire clips.

Step 7: Stand back and admire. Promise wife to have another look at the wonky door at some (unspecified) time in the nearish future.