I enjoy gardening. I am a long way from Monty Don but I have fun.

This weekend Joe joined me for a stint in the garden. The job was simple; cut the roses down and plant some bulbs. What could have taken me half an hour took close to two hours. 

Foolishly I thought giving Joe ‘licence to hack’ at the roses (safe in the knowledge I would tidy them up after) would be very welcome. However Joe decided he is not keen on roses and so refused to touch them. 

That left me to get spiked on my own. 

Instead Joe decided to kick over my tea, break some industrial strength scissors, cut some rose cuttings and moan constantly.

Joe is not delicate…in fact he is rather like a drunk hippo when he cannot concentrate.

We made it through the afternoon and we retired inside to relax/ calm down. 

Joe happily informed my wife that gardening was hard work. My restrictions and love for my garden did rather dampen Joe’s liberal attitude to pruning but he still burnt plenty of energy.

This morning we took the cuttings to the tip. A trip to the tip is right up Joe’s street. After the initial excitement in the car Joe was desperate to stop the car and dump the rubbish in a lay by…

I told him to wait.

When we got to the tip a very nice man helped Joe find the correct bin for all of the rubbish we had.

Often heroes come in different forms. An athlete, a teacher or my wife when she cooks pasta…

There are some people that are oblivious to the impact they have on people. That man at the tip made Joe feel useful, needed and like the young adult he is becoming.

He is probably not aware that a trip to the tip can be a confidence booster. 

Thank you ‘tip man’.


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