When we first bought our little house, a little over nine years ago now, we inherited a very badly neglected garden that was mostly weeds.
Over the course of our first year, we discovered a few hardy gems that had managed to hang in there: an ancient gnarly old lilac bush, several patches of bearded irises, two peach trees, a big hydrangea with poofy pink blossoms, and the sturdy nectarine tree that stands guard beside our front door.
My favourite of all, though, is the little raspberry patch we discovered beside the garden gate. Somehow, it actually manages to thrive despite my slapdash approach to gardening, which falls somewhere between benign neglect and enthusiastic ineptitude. They keep coming back bigger each year, producing prodigious quantities of juicy bright red berries....
