Peter Rhodes on a perfect telly moment, a foxy dilemma and a sudden shortage of rain

Are we all here? Did we all survive the Great Pigs-in-Blanket Famine?

Welcome, for the first time in 20 years, to a decade with a proper name. After the Eighties and Nineties we plunged into the 21st century and nobody knew quite what to call the first 10 years; the Noughties never really stuck. Nor, when it came to describing the years between 2010 and 2019 did the Tweenies, a clumsy mix of Twenty and Teens. But now we are solidly and happily in what we, and the historians, will all call the Twenty-twenties. It has an upbeat sort of ring, hasn't it? What could possibly go wrong? Better start stockpiling pigs-in-blankets.

According to the long-term forecast, we may go without rain for the next week. Anyone for a hosepipe ban?

Still digesting the Xmas TV offerings, Susan Hill's Ghost Story (C5) proved once again that even the scariest plot cannot do much scaring when the action is interrupted every 10 minutes by an advert break. The season's other notable ghost story proved something else. It is that just because a celebrity has proved himself a brilliant actor and writer in the past, it doesn't mean everything he touches will always turn to gold. Mark Gatiss's adaptation of the M R James yarn Martin's Close (BBC4) was about as scary as an old sock.

And if you had asked me before Christmas which TV moment would leave me with a tear in the eye, I would never have guessed it would be Nessa's proposal of marriage to Smithy in Gavin & Stacey. The magic of great TV writing is, just when the punters think the show is over, to pull another little rabbit from the hat. Tidy.

Hundreds of social-media users (in other words, a mob) want the prominent anti-Brexit barrister Jolyon Maugham prosecuted for allegedly killing a fox with a baseball bat to protect his chickens. The snag with online justice is that in a case like this you never know whether the masses want him punished for a) whacking a fox, b) being anti-Brexit, or c) being a barrister.

What we do know is that when animals are involved, all sense of proportion vanishes. I recall some years ago a reader suggesting a suitable punishment for a defendant who had killed a dog. It began with using an industrial sander to flay him alive and then rolling him in rock salt before putting him out of his agony with a bullet. Another reader took the view that a bullet was far too merciful.

If there is a lesson to learn from this backyard drama it is that we live in an age when if you really must kill an animal, no matter what the circumstances, it is probably wise to keep quiet about it. Especially if you have a name like Jolyon.