Did you know about this watering can feature
I’ve had a proper epiphany today. For years, I have been using a watering can like an absolute lunatic. I would unclip the rose—that little nozzle thingy meant to turn a torrent of water into a gentle shower—and then, predictably,…
After the Chelsea chop
There I was, standing in some glorious sunshine in late May, staring down a Purple Loosestrife that had developed ideas above its station. It was lunging skyward like a teenager who’d discovered protein shakes, all lanky stems. If left to…
Time to be garden brave
The art of aggressive vegetation management is rarely about delicate snips; it is about having the backbone to tell a shrub that its residency has been revoked. For most people, the idea of attacking a plant they’ve nurtured is horrifying,…
Late to the cut
In the red corner, we have the “Gardeners’ World” approach: a serene, linen-clad Monty Don whispering sweet nothings to a germinating seed. In the blue corner, there’s the reality of me, armed with rusty pruners and the spatial awareness of…
The temptation of a special offer
There is a specific kind of madness that descends upon a gardener when they see the words “Special Offer.” It’s a primal, twitchy-eyed greed that overrides common sense. So, when an internet advert promised two packs of bedding geraniums for…
Pond-ering over a siphoning disaster
On Good Friday, the start of the Easter gardening weekend, I walked out into the garden to a scene of absolute, unmitigated carnage. My pond—my pride, my joy, my little aquatic sanctuary—looked less like a tranquil garden feature and more…
