Shhhh... get the hosepipe out

Now, before I start, I should say that I generally agree with what the government, or relatively sane people, say in what is usually called adverse weather conditions. For example, when we suddenly get ten foot of snow, I don't go raiding the supermarket for every baked bean can they have and start stockpiling somewhat selfishly in my garage. I also don't concrete over my front lawn, so I can park my car under my living room window (something which has been proven to add to the flooding on the road twenty feet away, when we get a mild downpour). And I don't use my car when the bus and train is available, because I know how bad that is for the environment.

I'm a good guy. A responsible, nice, understanding member of society.

But then there is my garden. And it all changes. Why? Because I don't like to see hours of work to make it look nice disappear when we get a short heatwave. I don't like the thousands of pounds worth of flowers and plants to wilt, wither and die because of the lack of... water.

And there it is. The nub of the argument. Water.

My tenant, Mat, is the same. It's actually he that does 99% of the work in the garden, so he's a bit more extreme than I am. So, when the inevitable summer heatwave arrives, out comes the hosepipe and its various attachments. And off he scuttles, every morning and night, for a good two hours soaking of everything that needs a good dousing. It's like watching a commando raid, but with far more stealth and precision.

We did feel a momentary pang of guilt when we heard about the water rationing in the north of England and discussed it in hushed tones as we drank a beer in the garden, watching the sprinkler do its thing on the lawn. Then we watched in disbelief as some public -spirited counsellor even played the 'baby card' on the telly recently, saying that excessive watering of lawns would drain water resources so much that babies might have to go without baths, if the drought goes on. Oh, come on. Not the baby card.

Please don't blame us. Several weeks ago we were being given severe flood warnings here in Kent. The reservoirs were brimming. And now... they're empty. Why? Because they leak. Not my fault, I say. Get your act together, Thames Water, and don't expect all my plants to die because of your lack of investment. They don't even have water shortages in Saudi Arabia nowadays.

Happily though, we have not heard those dreaded two words here in Bromley yet: Hosepipe Ban. And so we still water the lawn and plants every day, hoping for rain to come soon and solve our momentary pangs of guilt.

But only the back lawn - away from public scrutiny. The front lawn has simmered gently for five weeks and now looks like the Serengeti. There is a limit to what we feel is 'right', despite our moral duty to the agapanthus, hottentot figs and red hot pokers. At the front, they're on their own, I'm afraid. The public that walks past probably sympathises with us - at least I hope so.