Tomatoes in and fingers firmly crossed.

My lovely Dad was good at lots of things, usually things he wanted to be good at. Consequently, when it came to getting his hands dirty in the garden, well he wasn't exactly a green thumbed fella.

However I do remember that one year he planted some tomatoes and they were bloody wonderful. The smell of home grown tomatoes instantly takes me back to those childhood moments of chomping into the tommies straight from the plants.

I had planted these stupid China Doll things in my raised garden bed and my girl just roared laughing when she saw 'em - yeh I had planted 3! My Girl knows all stuff about plants and gardens and when she recovered from her howling, she told me that I had planted bloody great tress! I persisted with 'em and kept cutting 'em back, until today when I asked Steve to give me a hand to pull the fuckers out, so I could plant - some tomatoes!

The tape roots on the trees were huge, and I am hoping that we have pulled out enough of it so that the Tommies can grow without competition. I will water them and wait and see.

I tied 'em up with a pair of left over tights from London...Sexy toms indeed.

I also decided to see if I could do better with some Basil this time, and have shoved it in between 2 of the tomato plants. Fingers crossed that it does better than the last lot, which I managed to kill off in mere hours, never once sampling a fragrant leaf.

We pulled out all the mint that had grown like topsy and I planted some Parsley. Again fingers are crossed.

But I reckon if Dad could grow some tommies then maybe I can too, and anything else will just be a bonus.

Gardening done for the next little while.

Yeh my fingers are about as green as my lovely Dad's.