Green Fingers
After selling our Airbnb, Anna, my wife, was worried about having nothing to do with her time and becoming bored. I suggested the novel idea of getting a job, at which she laughed. I said a couple of days at the local abattoir would get her out of the house, enable her to practise her French, meet new friends as well as bringing in a few pennies, and maybe some offcuts. But she wasn't interested. What about gardening? The great outdoors, exercise, good for your mental health (as Monty Don keeps banging on about), etc. I love gardening and have always wanted to get Anna interested. To feel the earth between your fingers, to taste your own home-grown produce and to smell your home-made nettle liquid manure, maturing in the shed. But she says it's not her 'thing'. She loves being outside, appreciating the garden, but from her sun-lounger with a pina colada to hand. We would be like Jean de Florette and his good lady wife, Mrs Florette (the opera singer), I told her. Tilli...