My hands were scratched, but I can clean them off with some hand towels when I get home, no biggie. It was clearly worth it to get the fat gooseberry that was hiding under the bush. When I popped it into my mouth, I rejoiced at the wonder of it all! What would I do without berry bushes? I am not a very good gardener. I like to sow seeds and see which of them like the soil the most. Let the plant choose if it wants to grow. And as for thinning, don’t get me started. It is just too difficult for me to arbitrarily end the life of a growing thing. Which is why at the moment, I am the proud mother of a mountain of weakling tomato plants. My spinach suffers, but little pots of strawberries seem to be doing well, purple sprouting broccoli isn’t, but red leaf lettuce seems to be hanging on. My secret garden is very tolerant and loving of my on again, off again ability to water and care. But the secret to my success has been the alliance of other hippy gardeners in a community plot. Over ten years an anarchic array of sustainable bushes, trees, and herbs has been planted and all they need is a positive vibe, and somebody to appreciate them and year after year they come back in wonder. Do you know what happens when you don’t properly tend a raspberry bush? They revert to the wild, very small, but the absolutely sweetest thing you can possibly pop in your mouth. Perhaps this is a lesson to us all. Its the opposite of the ’I can’t be bothered’attitude. Its the ’let it be with love’or ’if you love me set me free’type of gardening. I don’t try to have a master/slave relationship with my fruit and veg. No, not me, no killing in the name of the survival of the fittest. And the payoff? some beautiful gooseberries and wait till you see the apples.