I’m not sure if there is a collective noun for Whitefly but I think a blizzard would be the perfect one. We had decided to have two hours at the plots and we both had our jobs planned. Mine was to clear the flower bed and collect seeds from the Lupins then to collect seeds from the Sweet Peas. Rob’s was to empty the greenhouse. As we had finished with a half hour to spare I had the bright idea of giving the time to the sprout bed which needed the yellow leaves removing and the plants watering with soapy water. Big mistake! As soon as we started a cloud of Whitefly rose into the air and in no time the air was thick with them. We made a quick exit, running for the car followed closely behind by the nasties. We jumped in the car and slammed the doors shut still swatting them away. I fully expected to see Alfred Hitchcock peeping round the hedge.
