GARDENS CAN BE A TOUGH PLACE

It can be a tough life - planting seeds, watching them germinate and then be eaten by slugs or pigeons. Last summer was so wet and cold that I even found slugs eight feet off the ground in the runner beans.

Used nets this year and with the help of the driest spring for 80 years, and bottled Bluebird bitter beer in sunken jam jars (a stone for a lid)(see Sat 19th June), I have kept the enemy at bay.

I do not begrudge the blackbirds an odd blackcurrant or ten nor the wasps a plum or raspberry. We have enough for ourselves.

But slugs, snails and pigeons - Aaaaagh!

Talking of pests one of the peanut feeders was on the ground yesterday - something grey and furry had been at it I think - tree rats (grey squirrels). If only there were some way to communicate to them how I would love a nice squirrel goulash or curried squirrel legs.

Having said that there are also times of year when life is harsh in the garden.

Doc was a retirement gift and stands under the Weigelia by the end of the banking wall where I can see him from my desk and computer.

So, there I am, in deepest December, feet up in the kitchen, warmed by the Aga range, and outside Doc has a mantle of snow. Somehow he always smiles, is always in a good humour despite the vagaries of an English, nay Lake District climate.

I said nay because it seemed more appropriate then no if it betrays my age!