Urban gardener: Spring clean

Our garden, while not looking its best at the moment, has tricked me into working in it for more than a day – for the first time in ages. Two jobs that had been on the back-burner for far too long needed tackling. First, the grass roof on our shed that has spluttered along for 14 years needed updating to keep us from having to water it and second, a water butt that I had sunk below ground when I built the garden, needed filling in to allay my fear of someone disappearing into it head first. The trouble is that one thing leads to another, and just when you thought you had a fairly mature-looking garden, a few more seasons are now needed to get it looking anything like respectable.

The grass roof has been replaced with Stonecrop (Sedum acre) which, once established, will be better suited to periods of prolonged drought. It can last for approximately a month without water and looks good long after grass has withered to straw. It's sold in rolls or mats at around £25 per square metre – not cheap but a worthwhile investment in terms of aesthetics and in greening the urban environment without placing huge demands on the water supply.

Time was saved by using earth from the roof to fill the well but, while shimmying up and down the ladder most of the morning, it became obvious to me that a large phormium, which has also been with us since the garden was built, simply had to go. Gardeners know that such acts of spontaneity must be acted upon before you lose your nerve and dig out the feeble wrong-time-of-year excuse. The phormium's function had been to lend an architectural note to the Sixties townhouse while providing a screen to make the back of the garden more intimate. The decision to remove it was influenced by a yew hedge at the back of the garden, which has thickened up enough to offer quite a satisfying simplicity, accentuating the room-like spatial arrangement. What it lacked, however, was a dominant appendage to hold it together. By contrast the phormium, once refreshingly dynamic, began to look scruffy, its arching leaves a slur on the space and annoyingly interfering. The answer was as plain as day – more yew was required. A large yew specimen could be trained to mirror the volume of the diametrically opposite shed and would accentuate the formal design of the garden. Alternatively, forcing an amorphic design on it would contrast with the straight lines of the existing hedge and add a surreal touch to the space.

Chopping out the phormium wasn't quite as difficult as I thought (though it probably took me twice as long as it would have 10 years ago), but getting a two-metre high yew into place on my own was a struggle and I'll have to wait and see whether it survives a rather brutal journey through the house, over a pond and up a makeshift slide to get it into the raised bed. With all the grunting and moaning that took place I've found out that our neighbourhood watch scheme is largely ineffective, for not so much as a blind was tweaked to check that I hadn't inadvertently stabbed myself with a fork and was dragging myself along a bloodstained patio desperate for help.

This should have been my cue to retire to a hot bath, but while watering in the yew it was difficult to ignore two yuccas (Y. aloifolia) that had become too top heavy for their flimsy zinc containers and were supporting each other like a couple of drunks against a fence where honeysuckle and jasmine lullabied their sorry state. A quick call to a friend to confirm he was still interested in giving them a new home and the moment was reluctantly seized to yank, pull and lever them out before pruning much of the canopies, thus enabling us to carry them through our narrow hallway without lacerating or poking anything important. Re-acquainting myself with the garden that I'd put so much energy into 14 years ago felt good. On packing tools away, I wondered whether plants sense this, for a handsome pseudopanax (a recent impulse buy from Architectural Plants) tucked up near the house flashed me a look that could only say one thing. "Walkies?"