So, not interested in our first foray into self-sufficiency then, huh? As JJ pointed out, no-one (except her, of course) mentioned our beautiful courgettes* - hey, that sounds like it could be a spoof, slightly dodgy version of a controversial film of the 1980s, starring Daniel Day-Lewis: "My beautiful courgette..." Possibly.

We also have, for further delectation, tender, mild, green lettuce leaves; a seemingly endless supply of aromatic basil - what could be more simple and quick to prepare than a tomato and fresh basil sauce with which to bathe our pasta; some sweet, pointed peppers, just starting to blush from green to red, as we speak; a glut of fresh, pungent coriander; tender, flavoursome chives and some budding runner beans with which, as yet, I have no idea quite what to do (suggestions welcomed, as long as they go beyond boiling or steaming).

Unfortunately, I can only take credit for harvesting and preparing the produce for eventual consumption. It is Big who has patiently tended the seedlings, wielded the watering can, cursed the dry weather and welcomed the rain. It is Big who takes my hand excitedly when I get home from work and leads me to the garden to admire the latest developments.

He may well roll his eyes at his mother (the visiting dignatory referred to here and currently in residence) and her eccentric ways, but it is these same ways which have imbued him with a love of nature, a hunger for simple, seasonal, homegrown food (his parents have always had at least one allotment) and an admirable rejection of the motor car. He is brave enough to admit to loving things which are not, nor ever have been, trendy. He is never afraid of being himself. He is a man of immense kindness, generosity, patience and passion.

And I am lucky enough to be sharing my life with him.

To you, they may just be courgettes. To me, they are the symbol of so much more.


*zucchini, if you're that way inclined, but you knew that...