That's a good name for this patchwork of photos, as well as my sad collection of tubs and containers, minus flowers!
After a chance meeting a couple of weeks ago, I was given the name of a friend-of-a-friend's lady gardener. I telephoned, using the wonderful "You don't know me, but..." opening gambit, which always delights my sense of the ridiculous.
As a result, this lovely person came and inspected the shambolic space outside my patio doors and two days later re-appeared with a tub of tools and plenty of sacks for rubbish. The weather was on our side, and in glorious sunshine she began to set everything to rights.
She pruned and tidied, and I clipped the heap of offcuts into pieces, to stuff into the waiting sacks. Of course, while we worked, we talked, and I learned how she'd had a mother and grandmother who were both interested in gardening. Because of their toting the small girl along when they visited gardens, garden centres and all places of horticultural interest, she learned much, without realising. In fact, she spent many years avoiding anything to do with gardens - until eventually, she became the owner of a house with a large one!
With both mother and grandmother no longer living, she now began to realise what a wonderful legacy of gardening lore she had acquired from both of them - learned, literally, 'at their knees' back in the days when she was hardly beyond the height of those knobbly appendages of theirs.
Thanks to this trio of ladies, one living, two dead, I can now look forward to having an outdoor area which will soon be a thing of beauty again. Watch this space...