Let’s talk about Tom.Tom doesn’t garden.
Tom commits horticultural war crimes with a smile on his face and a strimmer in his hand.In the years he’s been “looking after” my garden, he has single-handedly turned a fairly normal collection of plants into a trauma support group.His greatest hits include:
Do the job badly → Wait for disaster → Offer the solution after the plant has already flatlined.He is the only person I know who can make a plant regret ever being bought.Caroline, Briony, Fatima, the lavender trees, the hellebores and the rest of the walking wounded have formed a support group called “Tom Did This To Us”. They meet every Tuesday to swap horror stories and stare at him with pure venom whenever he walks past swinging his strimmer like it’s a lightsaber.I keep him on because he does the lawns and hedges… and because he’s my neighbour. But every time he comes near the borders I whisper the same desperate prayer:“Please don’t murder anything today, Tom.”He just grins and says “No worries!”…which is precisely why I’m worried.The end (until his next visit, when something else will inevitably meet its maker)
Tom commits horticultural war crimes with a smile on his face and a strimmer in his hand.In the years he’s been “looking after” my garden, he has single-handedly turned a fairly normal collection of plants into a trauma support group.His greatest hits include:
- Planted my beautiful 5ft Cordyline (Caroline) in February, then whipped the fleece off because “it’ll be fine”. Caroline has been giving us pure dramatic side-eye and slow-motion death ever since.
- Let two expensive French lavender trees die a slow, crispy death over winter because he “didn’t think they needed fleeces”.
- Strimmed Briony the Peony down to 2 inches. Twice. She now flinches every time she hears a engine.
- Planted 100 spring bulbs and then acted surprised when the squirrels dug them all up. His helpful advice? “Oh yeah, I usually put chicken wire over them in my garden.”
- Almost killed the young Fatsia by letting it get buried under snow and ice, then casually said “Yeah, it probably should have had a cloche.”
- Planted hellebores in full sun when I asked for dappled shade. They’re now barbecue crisp.
- Put the lavatera in a shady corner where it’s quietly giving up on life.
- Left a massive pile of hedge cuttings sitting in the garden for months like some kind of modern art installation.
Do the job badly → Wait for disaster → Offer the solution after the plant has already flatlined.He is the only person I know who can make a plant regret ever being bought.Caroline, Briony, Fatima, the lavender trees, the hellebores and the rest of the walking wounded have formed a support group called “Tom Did This To Us”. They meet every Tuesday to swap horror stories and stare at him with pure venom whenever he walks past swinging his strimmer like it’s a lightsaber.I keep him on because he does the lawns and hedges… and because he’s my neighbour. But every time he comes near the borders I whisper the same desperate prayer:“Please don’t murder anything today, Tom.”He just grins and says “No worries!”…which is precisely why I’m worried.The end (until his next visit, when something else will inevitably meet its maker)
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