My childhood garden was a fairytale of flowers. My mother spent hours tending to it each weekend and her hard work paid off. She would tell me the names of each of the flowers and I would watch her at work, fascinated by the way things flourished when lovingly cared for. When I was about 8, she gave me a patch of my own to grow whatever I wanted in, and from there, my love of gardening began.

Seven years ago, when we bought this house, it was the first time I had a garden of my own. I redesigned the space as a patio courtyard with stone slabs on the floor and raised beds built from the old bricks taken out of the back of our Edwardian house when we renovated. I created levels, a low ground level bed at the ...