THE trouble with gardening is that it's a lonesome pastime. Aside from the odd vine weevil or ground beetle trundling by, there's usually nobody around to share your thoughts with. Gardeners need to talk to other gardeners. Whether, it's to crow over a particularly splendid plant, or to vent some spleen about the stealthy slugs in the night-time greenhouse, or to beg for emergency advice - gardeners need to talk.
Perhaps the best way to satisfy that talking urge is to join a garden club or horticultural society. Don't be put off by the notion that one needs to be a really good or knowledgeable gardener to join such a bunch of elite plant people. The whole point of these organisations is to share information, exchange plants and promote an enthusiasm for garden matters.
The oldest and biggest club in the country is the Royal Horticultural Society of Ireland which was founded by Irish gardeners during the last century. "We're `royal' because of our age," explains Rita Rutherfoord, the society's president. "We were founded in 1830 and we now have about 1,200 members, as well as affiliated plant societies all over Ireland."
Like most horticultural societies, the RHSI has lectures, garden visits at home and abroad, gardening courses, workshops and a newsletter. But best of all are the plant shows where top growers come together to do battle on the show benches. To the show gardener, nothing is as sweet - no rose, no sweet pea, no jasmine - as that winning trophy carried off; year after year for "Apples (Cooking), Dish of Three, 1 variety" or, "Polyanthus, 1 pot, not to contain, -more than one plant".
Anne Hanafin is the show secretary of the Clontarf Horticultural Society, and a keen observer of the growers - almost always men who go from show to show scooping up prizes. "Some of them are very competitive. It's an education to watch them while the show is being set up," she says. "The chrysanthemum men have little brushes sable brushes or even finer - and they brush and preen every little petal just to make them right."
Then there are the vegetable men, laden down with mammoth produce, all polished up and shining: "They're great, they come along to compete with each other. They have these big, mile-long carrots and onions the size of your head," marvels Anne. "They're very serious, they watch each other." Fortunately most societies have show categories for novices: Clontarf has "The Not So Expert" section where ordinary folk can exhibit pot plants, cacti, cut flowers and vegetables.
And it is the novices and the not-so-experts that most garden clubs are desperate to attract right now. Many of the organisations were founded in the 1940s and 1950s as a response to food shorts ages during and after "The Emergency". Time has taken its toll on, the memberships: heads of hair at" many meetings are distinctly grey and white, and energy levels are not what they used to be.
But these are what Anne Hanafin calls "the real gardeners: there's nothing yuppie about their approach to gardening. It's hands on, get in - and on with the wellies. There's none of this roll-out grass - which I'd love for my front garden," she laughs. "Our older members have more of an enthusiasm for growing things from slips and cuttings, and for dividing things. They're very generous, both with their plants and information."
No book or gardening programme or newspaper article can ever supply the kind of information you'll get from an older gardener. All the years of experimentation, the hours contemplating the soil, the anxious times spent deliberating the weather, the layers of memories, the reams of local knowledge: they all add up to a pretty massive cache of wisdom. And they're all neatly packaged and efficiently filed in one place: the good gardener. Go and find one at your horticultural society.
