Near constant leaden grey skies interspersed by heavy showers. Only occasionally does the sun get through for a few hours to brighten the scene. The ground is almost permanently sodden.

Seizing the opportunity of a brief dry period, Terry managed to get the lawned areas at the nursery mowed keeping the place spick-and-span. At home I have been less fortunate. The back garden features large areas of hard landscaping which have been something of a godsend this summer.

Good, easy to maintain surfaces that permit all-weather use – perfect for parties and barbecues. How nice if we could have made use of it. The cushions have been out, very briefly, for only one day this summer, and the barbie itself has spent the summer in its raincoat.

In the shrub border behind the pond we have a problem with bindweed. I have been battling for years to eliminate it but in June it seemed to erupt from a hundred different points. No matter how much you pull the wretched stuff out it bounces back with renewed vigor to scramble gleefully towards the sun...well at least towards the grey skies.

The answer is, of course, to treat it with glyphosate-based weedkiller. This has a systemic action which means it is absorbed through the foliage, before working its way down into the roots which it kills stone dead. So why the problem? Simply this, the instructions say "Choose a dry, still day, when the foliage to be treated is dry and rain is not expected for several hours."

I'm sorry but I was busy on June 19th when these conditions existed for an hour just after lunch...and even then the weather girls were gleefully pointing to huge swathes of cloud out in the Atlantic. The glyphosate remained unused in the bottle for weeks. The bindweed remained in my shrub border. Tireless! Indefatigable! Steadily swamping its neighbours, held back only slightly by my dashes out into the rain to rip the long strands out to maintain some measure of order.

It was, therefore, with some measure of delight that last Friday, I actually got the wretched stuff sprayed and it has started to discolour. Hopefully it will be now held in check until next year. As it starts to die off I can't help imagining it thinking "I'll be back!" I don't doubt it.

Otherwise the back garden is in reasonable order, but very green. The rose blooms have been battered into submission but putting on vigorous growth. The iris in the pond, adorned with yellow 'flag' blooms in June has doubled in size. It looks remarkably healthy but I can no longer see the waterfall. Time for a pruning session I think.

The bedding plants have had mixed success. The petunias, my favourite in dry summers, have been ruined. Their large colourful blooms have been hammered into a pulp by the seemingly endless rain and despite regular dead-heading they are now looking rather sad. French marigolds too have had a rough time.

The winners, without doubt, once again are the begonias. Both the tuberous large flowered types and the small flowered bedding (semperflorens) have been magnificent despite everything and throughout the miserable summer have shone like a beacon of hope. They will be given more space in my garden in 2009.

In the meantime, I have started to replace the tired stuff with (I can't believe I'm using this word) winter pansies. And why not? They perform well in fairly tough conditions and if we plant a few now they will invest our gardens with a little late colour. In fact, they should establish quickly and be in flower until next year.

Over in the allotment, we are receiving a steady flow of cucumbers, peppers and chillies from the greenhouse. The tomatoes too are burdened with trusses of fruit but have been extremely slow to ripen. Enough for our needs certainly, but late nonetheless. On the greenhouse floor I have two big tubs of dwarf beans, presently in flower and looking like being very productive.

Like most people, most of my stuff, however, is grown outside in the ground. Here I have had mixed results. The corn is still only in flower and looking quite sad. All the brassicas are growing strongly but have taken a real battering. Part of the problem has been getting out to them. In the allotment the paths are grassy and consequenly recently very soft underfoot. This is in hand and my next project over there is to build raised stone paths. Because it has been so unpleasant, radish, lettuce, spinach and broccoli have all performed but have been allowed to get past their best before I've managed to harvest them.

The tatties have been quite variable. Frankly, I worried they might get rotten in the ground, but so far so good. Not the heavy crops we got last year but not bad. But what a pain, going out in the rain to dig some up for dinner. I have been tempted to pop up to the shop on occasion, but to date I have held true to the cause.

Being kept confined to the house has not jut affected my gardening. It has impacted on my cycling training as well. I wake up with the best of intentions, meaning to get my bike out and cycle along the Calder Valley to the bottom of Ightenhill, up the hill and onto the canal at Gannow then a simple canal-side ride round Scott Park through Barden, and on to Reedley.

Sadly, all too often, I've taken the soft option and jumped in the van. This will not be an available option in just over a week. The Irish Tour 2008 kicks off, with me, unprepared as usual. Long roads and no shortcuts. If I tell you the Irish use the term "soft" to describe wet weather, you will see that the soft option is likely to mean long, grim miles along lonely wet roads. But you never know? With the luck of the Irish, the sun may shine, for a while anyway!