I treated myself to Christopher Lloyd’s classic text ‘The Well-Tempered Garden’ a few weeks ago and have been dipping into it on and off. Visiting Great Dixter was an exercise in free-thinking and this book has much the same effect. It’s a refreshing, interesting and entertaining read, and exquisitely well written. There are no pictures and it has a structure quite unlike any other gardening book I have ever read. For those of you who have not read it, here are a few extracts to whet your appetite.

On When to Plant: – ‘But where there is any doubt about moving a shrub or splitting up a herbaceous plant in autumn, the task should be deferred until spring. That is my official pronouncement. Don’t expect me to follow it myself, because I’m also a great believer in doing a job when I want to do it, and to hell with the consequences.’

On weeding: – ‘I never like to weed out anything that I can’t identify. Not all seedlings are weeds. You may feel that life is too short to leave a seedling in till it’s large enough to identify it. My own feeling is that life is too interesting not to leave it there until you can identify it’

On manuring: –
‘…I cast all my nail parings out of the bathroom window so as to feed the ceanothus below with hoof and horn. Since at 30 years this is the oldest ceanothus in my garden, I naturally congratulate myself on a sagacious policy.’

I’ve always been inclined to read a rule, then weigh up a situation and sometimes break the rule to see what happens next. So this book acts both as a fabulous treasure trove of information, but also affirmation of this maverick, find-out-for-myself instinct.

I took this picture in the summer – it’s a Helenium I’ve not properly identified yet, possibly Kanaria, with a purple phlox behind it. I think of Christopher Lloyd’s thoughts on colour combinations each time I see it.