Working up to the last minute before the first guests arrived and fuelled by the first glasses of fizz as the final hour approached, we managed to pull it off, to considerable acclaim (I boast).

By the time the curtain rose on our set, lit by strings of fairy lights and lots of good quality (and therefore longburning) tea-lights set in old glass yoghurt jars, there were roses galore as well as clematis, honeysuckle, jasmine, and white and blue potato vines (Solanum) draping the walls . . . all looking completely relaxed and at home.

There were also tall white lilies in full bloom scenting the air of that memorable summer's night, and two ugly grey walls had been brought to life by washing them over several times with a homemixed and rather beautiful faded terracotta, imbued with hints of orange and burnt yellow earth colours.

This effect is achieved by mixing pure earth-coloured pigments (such as yellow and red ochre) into a flat white wall paint, in varying degrees depending on the intensity of colour required.

It was, admittedly, very hard work for two people, including the shopping for suitable plants in their prime, for pots and sundries, and for a suitable wire, which should be high tensile and not too thick.

Several concrete slabs had to be lifted in the yard and the soil underneath made good with loam-based compost, grit and handfuls of dried seaweed, so that it would be receptive and nourishing for the more vigorous climbers. Vine eyes and wires had to be attached to the walls for tyingin plants, so that they wouldn't flop during the wonderful party and spoil the illusion.

The lilies and some other things in season had to be decanted into large, heavy clay pots, filled again with a loam-based compost, with plenty of horticultural sand or fine grit added for drainage, to ensure they wouldn't be easily knocked over and would continue to thrive after the party.

The lilies are still going strong to this day, still thriving in the same clay pots . . .

though in another, smaller yard belonging to the same friend, a yard that I've also had the pleasure of transforming, but in a more permanent fashion this time.

These lilies are a good illustration of the truth that you don't need a garden, or even a yard, to grow wonderful plants well, whether flowers, fruits, herbs or vegetables.

A balcony or window sill can accommodate a surprising number of plants, including enough salad leaves, blood cleansing radishes and delicious rocket to see you through the summer and into autumn. There is still time to sow and crop this way before the end of the season.

A very good and hardy variety to look out for is Mizuna, a green mix that's very popular in Japan, where every inch of urban space is used for gardening.

Mizuna comes on particularly well from a late sowing and can withstand several degrees of frost.

Other salads you can still sow now include sweet rocket: look out for seed packets of the Italian label Franchi as these are jam-packed and extraordinarily good value.

Good too are cut-andcome-again mixes such as Saladisi or Salad Bowl Mixed, which will do well either in the open ground or in containers.

You will then be sure of a continuous supply of tasty and nourishing leaves until heavy frosts put an end to their growing.

GARDEN WORK Keeping Lilies Going in Pots Like daffodils, lilies suck the goodness of their "owered stems back into the spent bulbs to build themselves up for next year. So don't cut them down after "owering, but leave them to die back naturally. If you look after them, they will reward you with scent and beauty year after year.

If the spent lilies are in a prominent position and you don't want to look at their increasingly bare stems for weeks on end, then either drag or roll them behind a screen of some sort. In a small space this could be something as simple as evergreen plants. In a garden, they can be plunged, pots and all, into the ground in a shady part of the garden. Next year, when new growth starts, they can be fed, watered and brought out into the limelight when they "ower again.

Danger in Paradise A reader has written to say that I should warn people (again) of the dangers of uncovered bamboo rods. "I nearly ruined my marriage prospects on a very thin bamboo rod that was sticking up out of a pot, " she said, adding that "the thin rods are the worst".

The bamboo had narrowly missed piercing her windpipe, but still managed to make a hole in her throat, which became quite badly infected and is now black and blue. "If it had been a child", she says, "it would have poked its eye out."

The lesson here is to always cover the tops of bamboo rods, either with a pretty terracotta knob if you can "nd them (they do exist), with one of those green plastic toppers or, failing either of those, a wine cork with a hole burnt into the centre.