Once upon a time there was a very pretty garden owned by a busy woman who really didn't realise how lucky she was to live in a setting where nothing beyond mowing the lawn and the removal of the occasional thistle was necessary. One day she said, "Flossie is going to do the garden for me, isn't that kind of her?" "Oh yes, very," I replied. "But what is she going to do?" ..."Oh I don't know," she answered quite impatiently. "She's a very good gardener, you know." "Then heaven help the garden!" I said with warning. "Well, I can't offend her now, what do you suggest I should do?" "I don't know, but I'd rather offend her than the garden."

The next time I called a dismal sight confronted me where once was a restful scene. All the thymes had been thinned out, now resembling tiny islands in a sea of dirt. Around the back there was a great heap of thyme and other fragrant carpeters waiting to be incinerated. For the life of me I couldn't imagine what she thought she had achieved. The owner was out (mercifully for her!) so on her desk I left a little note: "AND WHAT DO I THINK OF YOUR VERY GOOD GARDENER? ------------!!!" Here, I felt, was the justifiable use of the great Australian adjective. For pity's sake don't let's worry our gardens so much.