It started with my nan, Joy.
My nan, Joy, had a beautiful garden, full of orchids and plants she'd grown and loved for decades. When she needed a hand, the people who came would mow the lawn, step straight through her orchids, and get out as fast as they could. They got the job done. They didn't care for what she'd made.
I became a horticulturalist because of gardens like Joy's. Helping Hands Horticulture is the opposite of that trail of destruction: a pair of hands that knows plants, works gently, and treats a lifetime's garden with the respect it deserves.
When someone has been gardening for fifty years, they know their garden better than I ever will. So I ask how they'd like things done, and I do it their way, even when I might have done it differently. That's what caring for someone's garden really means.
A helping pair of hands, but a knowledgeable one. Not just another contractor here to mow the lawn and leave.