A tale of two gardens: my mother was up for the week, and we called in to see Steve. He works six days out of seven, and consequently his garden had become a bit of a wild, untamed tropical jungle, thought he said that was the way he liked it; banana plants and other huge ones with spiked, rather vicious leaves. I told him I was sorry I hadn’t spotted any of the indigenous people that obviously lived and lurked among it all; they must be very shy. ‘Oh yes, the pygmies,’ he said. Later in the week we called in on Grace and Eric; no hostile vegetation, instead an almost overwhelming sense of colour, petunias, begonias, busy lizzies, you name it. A bit too much of everything for my taste, but undeniably spectacular. Both of them much better gardeners than me
