I'm blessed with fantastic neighbours on both sides and even those a few houses away. I like them so much I could almost overlook those few who practice the arcane art of surreptitious gnome introduction (SGI). But I think in these days of global warming, terrorism and rude people who don't wave when you let them in in traffic, some things cannot be forgotten or let ride.
SGI is an anathema, a critique on the downward spiraling values of western gardening culture, and I for one will not stand idly by and let this scourge bloom like weeds threatening the very standards that I had no idea that I stood for until a few minutes ago.
The particular neighbours that practice the dark arts of SGI have self confessed brown thumbs. I'm not sure how brown as the Fakus plasticus orchidus in the wall mounted hanging pots on their shed are always full of colour, never wilt and seem to thrive though I've never seen them tended. The rest of the garden is less full of...well, garden.
But it took me a while to work out my strategy. Then it came to me.
Their little girl, who is Imogens BFF, loves my tomato plants. She happily denudes them of fruit and asks for more. I thought she should have more. I bought a pot, some tomato suitable potting mix, a cherry tomato and a climbing frame. I planted it and left it at their front door, after explaining to their progeny that if Daddy looked after the plant, kept it in a good position, avoided pests and disease that she would have her own supply of fresh tomatoes.
She seems so excited.