The greenhouse
As the clocks go forward signalling British Summer Time, the weather has other ideas. March belligerently hangs onto winter, its icy fingers reluctant to release their grip. Rain lashes down, strong winds buffet the garden, dislodging early flowers from the old Camellia bushes - the lawn seemingly littered with dozens of discarded fried eggs! On days like these you’ll find me in the greenhouse. It may be cold outside, but a mug of tea, a decent play on the radio (increasingly rare) and I am in my element. We bought this greenhouse over a quarter of a century ago, second hand from a kind lady who had been recently widowed. It cost £50, and took me the best part of the day to dismantle. And considerably longer reassembling it. It houses all the cannas and tender plants over winter, and all of the hundred of plants we produce over the year. Once the frosts are over and the greenhouse is cleared of seedlings, it becomes home to tomatoes, chillies and sometimes cucumb...
