Of course I had heard the stories, but I dismissed them as folklore. Surely it couldn’t possibly be true, it was just idle gossip. And then this week I saw one for myself, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, it was in truth an immaculate hosta. So apparently they really do exist, it was not just a tale our parents told us at night to send us on the fast train to dreamland, just as generations had done before them. This dry spell has meant the tedium of trudging throughout the garden, arms stretching under the weight of watering cans. However one great advantage to this mini-drought, notwithstanding the gardener’s mood enhancement, has been that our friends (obviously said with irony) the molluscs have not thrived, affording the emerging foliage a good head start. Perhaps though we should remember this hole free moment, it is unlikely to last.