We just popped over to the allotment to pick some wild rocket to go in our risotto for supper and while we were there had a look at the swede seedlings we - or should I say, the husband - transplanted on the weekend. They looked rather limp: must be something he did, or didn’t do. I asked him, “Did you water them in?” and he answered with the raised eyebrows of a man patronized by his know-it-all wife, “Of course!” And he asked, “Do you think I should water them again?” and the know-it-all wife said, “Well, I think it would be a good idea.”