I visited Mrs A of Perivale on my way back home from two group sessions at Horsenden Hill. I entered the property using a key from the lockbox and said "Hello" loudly a few times. From the faint sound of commotion, I guessed Mrs A was upstairs.

The lady, in her late eighties, partially blind and with mobility issues, was worried about descending to the ground floor in her chair lift, which had broken at least three times in the recent weeks. She was also unsure which tools she had for the gardening job I was about to start and whether I would be able to accomplish anything at all on the day.

While I reassured Mrs A that she didn't have to go downstairs if she didn't feel well enough, I convinced her I'd find the tools and inspect the garden if she told me where the garage keys were. Mrs A decided to travel to the ground floor in the dreaded chair lift, which turned out to be working just fine. I easily found the keys to the garage and, inside it, I located a rake, a pair of shears and a fork. Wandering around the garden, I found some hand tools I could use for weeding.

The garden itself didn't look too bad. Someone must have been maintaining it until recently. I noticed the roses and fruit trees had been pruned, and that the brambles encroaching from the neighbouring garden weren't as long as they could be. One thing I smelled before I saw it was the fact that the garden served the local cats (and foxes) as a giant litter tray. I decided to tread carefully.

Since Mrs A couldn't see or easily access the garden, I used my previous gardening experience to assess the situation and decide on the best course of action. First, I chose to give mowing a miss. With only a few longer grass blades sticking out of the otherwise short lawn, setting up the lawnmower would have been a waste of time. I turned my gaze towards the brambles and slightly overgrown trees and cut those back.

Afterwards, fighting with the stench of the huge "litter tray", I collected rotten, fallen apples and weeded the flower beds. Having done that part, I swept fallen leaves and took out the hydrangea flowers that had already wilted. With some space still available in the green waste bin, I cut back some of the ivy opposite the garage - but that's when Mrs A decided it was time to stop.

Although she couldn't see the result of my work well, Mrs A was pleased and grateful for keeping the garden in good shape. Funnily enough, Mrs A was convinced I'd do a top job from the moment I opened two gates she found tricky in the back garden and brought in the green bin.

"You did it quicker and better than the men. Actually, I'm very happy I had a lady helping me today as I live on my own." - Mrs A.

Well, I was glad to hear that for a change, after being misjudged by beneficiaries many times when I turned up for missions without a male GoodGymer companion. Perhaps, alongside the foxes and cats, there was a dark horse in Mrs A's garden too.