However, my parting comment of "Right, now to get these home, dig them in, and see which ones die!", seemed to hit my usual cruising speed. It's a comical thing to see a middle-aged woman snorting and sniggering in a Garden Centre on a Sunday afternoon - this was the task of the lady behind me in response to my quip. Perhaps I was being too truthful, but I don't mind. I shall be watching intently to see exactly how much of my hard-earned cash turns into expensive compost in front of my very eyes over the next few months. Now I know what the tags on plants are for - they're a memento of the money you spent, for when all you have left is a patch of weeds.