I’ve lived too long for gardening presents. Most of the gifts I have longed for have already made it on to Christmas lists. Years of working an allotment means I’ve been given the spade, the trowel, the handheld hoe. Even the smart secateurs.
I never had a lust for tools until the plot. It was all too much my father’s thing, though his allegiance was with Wilkinson Sword which also made his razor blades.
