There is absolutely no point in me being precious about the garden. Generally speaking, I do my bit and it takes its chance. Any aspirations I may have for a glamorous garden are dashed before they have germinated. If it is not Spud the dog stealing the bedding plants, it is the chickens reeking destruction.
Excuse my whilst I go and replant my new herbs plants and re-sow my planters; which I shall then have to cover with some chicken wire*, if I am to stand a chance of growing some poppies this year. I like poppies.
*Chicken wire, the clue is in the name, I’m not the first to face this problem am I?