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Like many gardeners at this time of year, I can normally be found in the garden with my head in a bag of compost. I'm not hiding from the taxman, or even two noisy kids - I'm just trying to get some seeds sown. Sowing seeds is a task that should

shouldn't carry on spreading. But I'm off to the plot now, armed with a big black bin liner and a pair of secateurs to cut off the haulms before the problem spread to the, as yet, untouched varieties. Now of course I can't compost it so I wonder if I

), the compost, the feed, the potting-on compost, the containers, in some cases the pest-sprays, the lighting and heating sometimes too. And that is not including the man-hours - probably the most unreliable, stressful and costly element in the equation!The other

. Of course I left the bases of canes and trunks clear, as smothering them with manure can lead to rotting. I think I can even hear the plants muttering their appreciation.It's not too late to do the same, but the source of my compost is a secret ...

trays, compost or propagators. Just clear the soil, forking it over to remove debris, weeds or larger stones and get sowing. I use sand from the kids' sandpit to mark out separate areas for each type of seed, and sow in rough rows to make subsequent

suddenly sprung into life. The mildew-ridden courgette plants have been busy sprouting golden yellow blooms and tender courgettes - thank goodness I didn't give up and consign them to the compost heap in August. They're probably more productive now than

the grass. But then followed hours of turmoil. We pulled and squeezed at the plant, we even tried to loosen the compost with a bread knife. But the palm wouldn't budge. Eventually, we called in the bigger man of the house. Big toys for big boys; the answer