In the summer of 2020, I had never felt prouder of my gardening skills.
During the first Covid lockdown, when fear stalked the largely empty streets, we thanked our lucky stars that we had our own outside space: a very small patch of lawn at the front of our house, and a slightly bigger, though very steep, plot at the back.
When socialising and work travel stopped, I gave the garden more attention than ever before. I planted seeds with my children, we weeded areas that had been hitherto unmanageable and we put in a small pond, after being inspired by socially-distanced Springwatch. Within three months, frogs had arrived, and were duly named Trevor, Delores and Jaydon by the kids.
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