Whilst I was assessing what to do next, one of the people, who rang me last week in response to my advert at the job centre, called up to see if I wanted to try him out, I did. He came on Monday and turned out to be a great find. Six foot two and as broad an ox, he wanted no tea or coffee, to start the day, but to get his hands on the spade and start digging, oh joy. He laboured eagerly, still declining beverages, and began offering helpful suggestions which proved his gardening experience and knowledge. The sun was shining and so was his forehead as he powered through the work. He dug, sieved, cleared, swept and bagged the debris as he went, then loaded it into my car, so that it was an oddly satisfying drive to the dump, as I was not filthy or exhausted by the work that had necessitated the trip. Back in the garden the work continued a pace, and still no beverages. I began to see that I could expand my original ideas for the space that needed revamping; I could be more ambitious because the work was not going to cost me my health. I was just considering if I could adopt this chap, or marry him off to one of my daughters, when reality resurfaced and he had to leave early with a splitting headache. I knew he should have had those beverages, it was dehydration I recon.