Inky fingers 1 Green fingers 0

We braved the Bank Holiday rain, now hubby’s finally finished painting the decking, to find pots and ornaments to break up the woody look.
“What d’you think of this” he asks, pointing at a small, fir tree type effort.
I shrug. It looks the same as all the other small, fir tree type efforts he’s already pointed at.
I’m not a green-fingered person, you see, I need Trisha at Ripplestone for that kind of thing. She’s my expert. I even offered her cash to do my garden and she laughed. I mean it, I said, really. She laughed again.
We now have some pink lilies in a lilac pot, white lilies in a blue pot, one of the small fir tree type efforts in a large green pot (he’s hoping it will grow tall enough to hide the drainpipe: If only drainpipes were just four foot high) six small, multi-coloured pots hanging from a rope by the garage door and three green/blue spheres in the corner. And a snail, a hedgehog and a tortoise watching from the side, looking in need of a lift - so now I‘m off in search of the outdoor equivalent of a wotnot. Then he says: “We need a new table ...and chairs ...the bench is broken ...” See, once you start with this gardening lark, look what happens. That’s not really my garden up there, by the way. As soon as I can figure out how to get the pic of the animals from my phone to son’s MP3 player to the PC, I’ll post it.