How to start? Why this blog? I’m not a professional gardener, nor even a proficient one. I am, in fact, almost completely ignorant. A dibbler and a dabbler, but I love it. I have been gardening for nine years. My first garden was a tiny, little, handkerchief-sized plot of builder’s rubble, overlaid with a centimetre of topsoil, in central Scotland. It suffered while I learnt things like: don’t plant camellias in the driest spot you have; slugs are the indestructible minions of Satan; that grey, furry stuff on your expensive, fancy honeysuckle is a fungus which will kill it; dunnocks and cats love seed beds, for different reasons, but the end results are the same.