I actually love having a garden but, as for gardening, I would very much like it to garden itself. Writing is a great way of clarifying one's thoughts and, writing this one down, it occurs to me what a slothful attitude this is. I realise that now and again I just have to push the lawnmower around, much as I have to push the hoover. I also realise that if I get on with it, I quite enjoy it. It's a good job. We are faced with, and will have to do something about, the convolvulus. To continue with my analogy, convolvulus -or bindweed- is the equivalent to a nasty mess in the fridge that you just can't leave, only ten times worse. It is persistent, invasive, destructive and virtually impossible to get rid of. It's roots spread out, popping up shoots. Each shoot grabs an unsuspecting plant by the ankle and goes on to grow up its stem in a spiral. Before you know it, where you once had, say, a rosebush, you've just a mass of pale green leaves. If you let it, it will go on to produce creamy-white trumpet-like flowers. How do you get rid of it? If you keep digging it up, it keeps coming back. There are all sorts of clever things one can try doing - sticking canes in close to the roots to trick the plant into growing up the cane, for example. In the end, though, you have to face the uncomfortable truth: you're going to be digging this up again and again for a very long time. One thing about it I find intriguing is its ability to wind itself around things. I suppose being able to tell where sunlight is coming from is a form of sight, but it's uncanny what acrobatics plantlife can get up to without looking. I'm sure we could built a virtually blind robot specifically designed to wind itself around lamp-posts. But if we did, and you tore it to pieces, you'd find it was full of discreet components: not one big idea, but an accumulation of good ideas cobbled together. Tear convolvulus apart and you find it's just made of green stuff. (I never was good at biology). That's millions of years of evolution for you. If there are archaeologists in the future, they will be able to find what little remains of this house by the thick tangle of convolvulus growing where it used to stand.