A YEAR or so ago we moved to a house with a garden that resembled a midden. Both had suffered years of neglect, so with priorities straight we made our home good and true. Properly fitting windows, a watertight roof and no asbestos are really important aspects of living in a house, especially for those of us with young children. However, outside was still all anthills, bindweed, cat poo and beer cans.

Then a couple of weeks back we got a chap in. A real man, unlike yours truly.

Frantisek* (one of those Eastern Europeans, over here with their perfect English, prompt email responses, can-do work ethic and charming manners – the very nerve) came round and made us a brand new garden in two days straight. A few tons of virgin topsoil, some well-rotted dung, and a very reasonable amount of cash (not actual cash, but a bank transfer because Frantisek is a UK tax payer – outrageous) in some beautifully built raised beds and I’m as happy as can be.

To get one’s hands into the finest tilth in the long, light evenings of late spring / early summer / or whenever this goes to press, poking stuff in, and scattering a few seeds about is – as far as I’m concerned – the most soothing of therapies. I’m a fellow who’s prone to occasional bouts of maudlin fogginess, and the primeval yet sensual act of making stuff grow, of touching the earth is mindfulness itself. Nature’s Prozac, if you will.

Our little corner of England is about the size of three small parking spaces, so we shan’t be self-sufficient, far from it. But things will grow that we can eat; crops not easily or cheaply found in the shops. Swiss chard, stripy beetroot, cavolo nero to give us greens in the winter, and funky lettuces. There are runner beans, some herbs, and my kids have sown some radish seeds for almost instant horticultural gratification. A few pretty flowers for the bees and sweet peas for the windowsill too.

Some of these crops will undoubtedly fail, but a few are flourishing. Satisfaction indeed. Whether you have acres, or just a window box, I urge you to get your fingers in the soil. Your psyche will thank you.

* Humble-Bee Gardeners, 01584 891463, team@humblebeegardeners.co.uk