SQUIRRELS. Squirrels. Squirrels.

It's getting ridiculous. I'd say it was driving me nuts, but they'd only snigger – those small scabrous thieving bundles of….

Deep breathing, Christine.

OK, is it just my imagination, or has the Sevenoaks squirrel population soared in recent years?

Certainly, here in the centre of town, we pretty much have to boot them out of the porch and scrape them from the roof of the car whenever we leave the premises.

Apparently there are about 250 million grey squirrels in the UK, most of them in my back garden as far as I can tell, skulking in the trees and straining their furry ears for the telltale rattle of peanuts going into a feeder.

I didn't mind squirrels at all until I started feeding the birds. Nick Barlow of the RSPB warned me that, when it came to bird food, nothing stopped a determined squirrel. I looked at the anti-squirrel defences in his Seal garden (blimey, I thought, he must have brought in the marines) and assured myself it was a bit over the top. Boy, I was so naïve.

Nothing stops squirrels.

Those feeders with metal sleeves that slide down under the squirrel's weight? The fluff-monster simply learns to make a precision leap onto the mesh, where it can hold on and dine at leisure while tits and finches watch wistfully from the bushes.

Thin wires stretched between trees? Give me a break. The average squirrel can sprint along the finest wire, doing star-jumps and arabesques just to show what a dawdle it is.

Pole-mounted feeders? You might as well put in an escalator and a sign saying "Cafeteria opening hours: dawn till dusk, no biting in the queue".

We've tried slapping lard on the poles. This leaves your bird-feeding post looking like one of those bottles they use as candle-holders in cheap Italian restaurants, and it does deter the squirrel… briefly.

Entertaining as it is to watch a squirrel slide down the pole with the glazed expression of an MP challenged unexpectedly over his expenses claim for leather underwear, the pleasure doesn't last long, and neither does the lard.

I'm currently waiting for one of those plastic hemispheres that's supposed to clip onto the pole and baffle the squirrel.

I know, I know. The plastic hemisphere will probably keep the squirrel nicely dry while his mate drops the peanuts from above.

As I write, there's a squirrel reclining on one elbow in the little seed tray, spitting out the odd substandard nut and passing wind from time to time.

I believe he's actually …fat. My birds are wasting away and my squirrels are obese!

The other day, one little furry blighter had the nerve to press his nose against our cat-flap. I wasn't sure if he was about to come in, or just slip through a note saying "Feeder empty. Please fill."

Squirrels of Sevenoaks, be warned. Come anywhere near my chocolate stash and your days are numbered.

I've got a Ladyshave, and I'm not afraid to use it.