Gardeners....

Gardeners are a particular kind of person. Being one is being like being in a huge club. On long train journeys strangers can become friends talking about their gardens; what succeeds and fails in their plot and passing on tips about how to do something.

And we love to share. Plants have a way of spreading and, if your garden isn't to be overwhelmed by one plant or another, you need to dig it up occasionally, split it and find a new home for the bits you can't accommodate.

I've been lucky enough to find a new gardener. He's just bought a house in the trendy bit of Salford just across the river from the centre of Manchester. This area was fashionable 200 years ago, went through a bad time when the Industrial Revolution overcame it, became a no go area when that industry left for the Far East, but is now cool again as neighbouring Manchester booms.

He works in the Co Op HQ so can walk to work. His partner works at one of the hospitals. To his surprise, he's discovered he likes gardening. It's come as a surprise to him as a couple of years ago he lived for clubbing and hanging out in trendy N4 bars and the like. He still does it sometimes but prefers to eat at one of the city's restaurants now and grow plants on his balcony. Some for their beauty, some for food. He's discovered cooking as well, trying to replicate some of the dishes he's had in one of the restaurants across the river. It's part of growing up I suppose.

He saw a picture of a plant we'd got in our garden, the beautiful blue Iris Siberica, so I said I'd pot some up for his balcony. Not sure how it will do in a pot but I've put it in a deep, wide one. While I was at it I decided to try some Crocosmia Lucifer and Montbretia. Here they are waiting to be taken over to find a place on his balcony.