I’m supposed to be weeding so I don’t know why I have started sorting out stones. Husband Tom started me off – his dad used to ask him to do it in their garden as a boy, so he thinks it is proper gardening. I have loads more important jobs to do out here this afternoon but I find myself picking up bits of brick and debris – anything the wrong colour, shape or size that doesn’t look nice in the soil – and putting it into a pile. Perhaps I can use the rubble under a patio I hope to build one day. Those fragments of glass will have to go in the bin, and I will sort out the broken bits of clay pot for crocks. I have been known to pick up the occasional pebble on visits to the seaside, and have made better use of some of those.