Episode 0: In which we are introduced

We bought our house in November 2001, and moved in just after Christmas of that year. The back (or rather, side) garden was a small, spiky wilderness - a few evergreen things, lots of seedheads, unkempt undergrowth - spilling out over a gravel strip along the house and a narrow slate path that led to a small greenhouse. We'd met the garden first in early autumn, when it had looked enthusiastic but a bit raddled. Had seen better days, we thought.

The front was more straightforward, consisting as it did of a hedge along the boundary, a small bed and two substantial planters beside the house, and a triangular bed at the corner containing a spindly cherry, sundry small perennials and a wicked old chaenomeles. Around at the front of the house was a small specimen tree, weeping, perhaps four feet tall; also some cordylines, one or two other saplings (unclear whether deliberately planted or not), and a variegated ivy growing up over a huge, unlikely anchor. Yes, anchor.

That first winter I learnt how much I love losing myself in the garden: going out in the late morning and working, working, working until after dark (in January, we must note, this is not very late) with just a brief pause for lunch. I was impatient (ha!) to set about making the garden my own, but I knew I should wait to see what was there before doing anything rash. (I couldn't resist buying seeds, though, when spring arrived.)