Tues: definitely November

Rain, rain, go away... yes, it's definitely November. Blustery, wet, ugh, I nearly stayed in bed.

Instead of gardening today, here's a question: one of those that you never quite know how to answer.

Some while ago, this was actually last year, I was working in my Prairie Beds garden, which is a very up-market B&B: the style is called "boutique", apparently - it no longer means "place to buy overpriced fashionable clothes" and now it means "very much upper end of the market and luxurious". Quite right too, it's a lovely place. And I work there!

Anyway, as part of my duties, I always chat pleasantly to any visitors that I encounter in the garden, and I answer any questions that they might have.

On this day, the lady (who was of foreign extraction but spoke very good English) asked:

"Is that (pointing to the large oval of grass between the two prairie beds) grass or turf?"

"Urrrrr" I replied, wondering how to phrase it politely, "in this country, 'turf' is the same as grass, unless you mean the plastic fake grass that they use on football pitches?"

No, she didn't mean plastic grass, she meant the real stuff. But what did the question mean? Eventually, after some affable waving of hands, we established that when she said "turf" she meant newly laid using bought-in  turves, as opposed to grown from seed or "already there".

I was able to tell her that the grass in question used to be just rough meadow or pasture grass, and had been brought to the current smooth greenness by nothing more than regular cutting. She was happy.

I couldn't wait to run round and tell the clients!