I am not much of a gardener

but I do plant things sometimes.
The problem for me is that I really feel the garden belongs to the Senior Cat. He loves gardening. His gardening may now be limited to pots at waist height but the garden itself is still his.
We have S....who turns up once a fortnight and spends two hours doing as the Senior Cat asks. S....calls himself a "rough gardener" but he can dig and cut and mulch and more. He will also, like the cleaning lady, do anything else he is asked to do outside.
But yesterday I could cheerfully have throttled him and the Senior Cat.
I rushed off to do some urgent things while P... was here - things I would normally do before she arrived. I came home and she said quietly, 
      "I think you had better check."
I checked. S... was, as he was asked, digging over a patch of ground and removing some "weeds". Well  yes, some of them I would classify as weeds. The problem was that they were also the sweet pea seedlings I had planted and had, because the Senior Cat loves to see them climb and grow, been nurturing carefully.
I wailed. S.... looked alarmed - and more than a little embarrassed. The Senior Cat was devastated. 
      "I didn't know they were there," he told me.
      "I told you! You saw me planting them!" 
I prowled back inside and shut the door rather firmly. P.... looked at me and opened the door again. She went out and rescued the two plants she could find.
The Senior Cat came in looking upset. I can't be cross with him for long. I  kissed the top of his head and told him.
      "Don't worry. We'll get some more. It is still supposed to  be fine this afternoon. I'll go to the garden place and get some more seedlings."
     "If they have any," the Senior Cat said gloomily. He was still feeling bad about it.
Middle Cat phoned at lunch time. P... had gone to her after sorting us out and told her about it.
      "I am just checking on his appointment tomorrow," she said, "And I'll pick up some more seedlings when I get some washers at the hardware store this afternoon. Oh and don't worry. I know someone who once ran the mower over my African violets because he thought they were weeds." 
She was referring to her DH of course - a man who knows nothing about gardening.
In the growing darkness last night I planted new seedlings. I was accompanied by a small peewit. It followed me as I went along the row. It came close enough for me to touch. I talked to it. It looked at me side on - in the way birds do - as if to say, "Don't worry. This lot won't get pulled up."
They better not.