My Dad loves to give away plants. If he’s got multiples, can split a root, or take a cutting, it’s yours. Often the plant arrives as a thin stick with one lone leaf if you’re lucky, but shove it in the ground and see what happens. Gardening is a passion he and I share. We can spend hours chewing over the latest developments in our respective plots. Not that we know at all what we’re doing but we love it. When we arrived on the farm our garden had been newly rotavated and grass seed put down but the thistles were quickly reclaiming the ground. My Dad took on the challenge with fervour. Now, whenever we see him he’ll have a few new specimens for us to try out. We saw him this weekend and he didn’t fail us. The mode of delivery is always as makeshift as the plants themselves. This time we carried home a leaky cardboard box and several carrier bags. He always packs them with a generous helping of his finest manure too. Ideal for a four hour journey! Little Owl was surrounded by waving fronds and teetering bundles in her car seat in the back. Fortunately she slept most of the way.

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