Mother, now you're gone I treasure these few things...

I arrived at the Mother's house and noted one of the sisters' car on the drive. It was one that I still talk to, so it wasn't the end of the world. In the living room she was measuring up the furniture. Then she paused for a second and said, as if to no one but actually to me, "You've got a pick-up truck, haven't you?"

I confirmed this, thankful that it left her pondering how to carry off the cabinet she desired. This left me free to make a break for the garden. I found it in the shed, the only-used-once Mantis Tiller, alongside a pile of boxes of various attachments, including a plough. Quite what a seventy-odd year old woman wanted with a plough was beyond me, but now it was mine. I was a ploughman, deserving of lunch! I carried it out the side gate and locked it in the truck before the Sister saw it.

I went back inside, and she was leafing through some photographs of us when we were all children. Family snaps when we all talked to each other, my father hadn't gone off his nut, and everyone was still living. I volunteered Mrs IG to look, thus keeping the Sister busy while I plundered the booty. Next I moved the Bosch Garden Shredder to the truck, before swooping back for the modular plastic shed. There I found the tomato food and some compost in bags. I took the bloody lot.

The truck bed had a few gaps, and I headed for the greenhouse. In happier times, my Mother used to grow her tomatoes in there. Now it was a dumping ground for things no longer loved. I looked back towards the empty house and remembered when she first moved in here. The first thing she did was buy a greenhouse. My father was off his chump by then, and I think she needed the sanctuary. Now it was a home for spare bamboo canes. I had the lot of them, as well as the cloches.

The Sister was in the kitchen now, labelling things as hers. I dashed back in and nabbed a large freezer for the squash glut, before once more returning to the garden to snaffle the Barbeque, the large planters and the strimmer.

Now, I'll be honest here; it was like the vultures had arrived. We raced each other to strip the place. Other siblings were going to be unlucky. You've got to be in it to win it. The truck was filled, and enough stuff was tagged for me for another journey. I stood in that living room, that once housed the living, and looked at the bookcase. There were a lot of gardening books there. I selected those that caught my interest.

Then, inside my head, I heard my Mother's voice.

"Take them all, or they'll end up in a skip"

"Okay Mum."

I actually said that out loud, because she wouldn't have heard if I'd have whispered.

You see, if you thought my Mother had shuffled off this mortal coil, you'd be wrong. After a few years of ill health, and her new husband having defeated (for now) bowel cancer, she's finally listened to sense and sold up. They're off to a retirement flat, and they'll at least have the money from the house to see them through. With very little space and a communal garden, they wanted to get shot of everything they weren't taking with them.

So, what's this got to do with anything. Well, I have the spare books. I couldn't see them chucked away. If anyone wants them, then yell. I'm a tight-fisted bastard, so I'd prefer you to be in the UK as I don't want a postage bill the size of my courgette!

I have the following:
Grow Your Own Veg by Carol Klein
An RHS Wisley Handbook entitled Gardening on Lime and Chalk
A bunch of Dr Hessayon titles including: The Lawn Expert, The Vegetable and Herb Expert, The House Plant Expert and The Tree and Shrub Expert. The last two are slightly battered, but the pages are all there!