5.30 am: On an ideal day I'm up with the early birds (or more accurately the early cat, as my cat Mike pushes his paws in my face to wake me up) so that I can pray for an hour. If I press snooze and tell God I'll do it later, I definitely won't.

6:30 am: After some top-quality praying, I WhatsApp Saints Patrick and Andrew to see what they're up to and compare prayers. We have a separate group chat for Saint George which mainly involves taking the piss out of whichever England sporting team is embarrassing itself on the global stage.

7.30 am: Shower, get dressed and have breakfast with the animals. I usually have a glass of water and a leek, but at the weekends I may push the boat out and have a daffodil as well. I find eating with the creatures of the forest really helps me bond with nature, although I try and avoid inviting the fox and the rabbits at the same time after the “incident”. I used to roll out of bed 15 minutes before I was due to leave, but I've really been enjoying having time in the morning lately.

8.30 am: I choose which staff I'll be taking out on my rounds from the umbrella stand by the front door. I have different staff for different jobs; I've got one that's good for creating mounds and one that's excellent for poking people who walk too slowly on the pavement in the back.

9:30 am: After checking in on the elderly and infirm, I like to pop into Costa for a herbal tea and a vegan granola bar. I find it gives me an energy boost after my earlier leek and water.

10:30 am: I make my daily pilgrimage to William Hill's. I like checking the form of the runners and riders, although most of my big wins have come from backing horses with religious-sounding names. I once won £50 from a £1 each way bet on Jesuschristwhatamover who romped home at 33 to 1.

11 am: Check my emails, the news and Instagram. I tend to share images of badgers and flowers, and about being kind to animals and sharing memes of cats with quotes; it's good for the brand. I've got an alt account that I use to hurl abuse at the WRU and Nigel Farage

12 pm: I nap for an hour or two, but before I do I catch up with Patrick and Andrew on WhatsApp and arrange to meet up if either is around later in the day.

2 pm: Wake up and listen to the repeat transmission of last night's “The Archers” on Radio 4. I find it a great way of finding out what's going on in the agricultural community and the world of organic yoghurt production.

4 pm: Meet with Saint Andrew at a local pub. The venue changes on a weekly basis as Andrew has been banned from half the pubs of Scotland and Wales for ordering a glass of tap water before turning into a 10-year-old malt whiskey. Treat myself to a bag of scampi fries; despite the name, they're actually suitable for vegetarians.

5 pm: Saint Andrew and I will pray in the local bus stop until his bus arrives; on a good day his bus can arrive in as little time as five minutes.

6 pm: Home to make the tea. By now I'm starving despite my bag of scampi fries. I like to cook something hot, so put a big pan of water on the hob to boil and add some leeks, oak leaves and grass. I'll sometimes add some twigs if I feel the need for some extra fibre.

7 pm: Sit down to watch Heno on S4C.

9 pm: Wake up on the sofa having fallen asleep ten minutes into Heno. Put some peanuts out for badgers and feed Mike the cat.

9:30pm: I try to get at least half an hour of praying in before bed. It's been mostly prayers for Welsh rugby recently, although a fat lot of good it seems to be doing. Will have to raise it with God, again, at our next away day. I can't face another day of paintballing with that gloating St George singing swing low.

10 pm: Glass of water and bed.

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