Fired with enthusiasm during 2000 I spent a small fortune turning my small
concrete London wilderness into something like a garden. Improving
appalling soil full of compacted ash and fireplace debris (and just why does
every old terraced house have broken china buried in the back garden -
didn't they have dustbins in the old days?). I composted everything I could
lay my hands on, nurtured my carefully selected plants, watered, fed and did
everything short of tucking them up into bed.

And what does 2003 bring? Drought (at least it kept the slugs and snails
down), mildew, aphids, mice (well - a mouse), blackfly, a fox tunnelling
under the shed , vine weevils and NOW what I'm 90% sure is the second New
Zealand flatworm of the year. I snipped it in half yesterday and it still
curls up in a most revolting manner - yuk.

So why has all my hard work resulted in what seems to be a haven for the
peskiest pests? Despite encouraging the birds with a fat ball and daily
topped up bird table I have negligible bird life - a pair of blue tits,
resident magpies, a single sad robin (sometimes), the occasional wren and
blackbird; and couple of fat wood pigeons breeding like the clappers who
are the only daily visitors. During the Summer there were endless
hoverflies and lacewings. I have lots of wood lice but rarely see a beetle.
Should I just wait for a balance to be reached or can I be more proactive?