I have never forgotten nursery colleagues of ours saying that they grew daphnes and lemon trees “because pretty well every garden has at least one of each”. In the case of daphnes, it is a continuing market because they need replacing now and again and there is always room for one more.

For most people, daphnes begin and end with odora – the fragrant and delightful shrub in flower now. In fact there are about fifty different species, although the number commercially available in this country is closer to four or five and there are probably a thousand odora selections sold to every one of the others.
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When our children were little, we used to read them a small book called “Noisy Nora”. Her refrain was, ‘ “I’m back again,” said Nora, with a monumental crash.’

I am back again, dear Readers, although perhaps not with the monumental crash.
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I just love bureaucrats. They are such a wonderful source of ridicule. Farming readers will be busy jumping through the same hoops as nursery people and even section maintenance operators – undergoing mandatory courses in agrichemicals in preparation for the January deadline after which one won’t be able to buy many basic chemicals unless one has the magic certificate.

Mark obediently trotted off and did his course last year (if only I could remember where I filed the certificate….). In principle you can’t argue with the logic of attempting to educate people in the safe use of chemicals. There are dangers and pitfalls in their usage and countless tales of abuse and bad effects. So while Mark prides himself on being a relatively safe operator, he didn’t really complain.
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Winter struck with a vengeance this week. There can’t be much more to blow down. Leaves, twigs, branches, the odd small tree, every container plant – they are all lying around waiting to be cleaned up. Then it turned so cold that I didn’t feel like venturing out between showers. Next came the frost and it remained cold. Sometimes our long autumns lull me in to a false sense of security and I never fail to be surprised by a wintery blast.

I was rung by a journalist working on a story about winter gardens and it made me focus on what we strive for in the winter garden. Despite my reluctance to brave the cold, we garden for twelve months of the year here. In spring it tends to be a pretty tree and shrub garden with the addition of lots of spring bulbs. In summer we aim for the lushness of the subtropical look with touches of the English herbaceous tradition. In autumn it is the detail of the autumn bulbs along with the splashes of colour on the plants which colour up well (the metasequoia was a breathtaking orange this year).
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It must be a sign of the times, dear Reader, that I am going to inflict a website on you. Being rural and suffering from very slow dial-up (roll on unbundling), I am not a great web browser but when rain drove me indoors I clicked on www.guerrillagardening.org.

The site is fast and friendly and details the night time guerrilla gardening activities of an ever growing band of enthusiasts who are taking over neglected and unloved urban areas. The greatest effort is in London so far but it appears to be a growing movement. Even the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay are reportedly trying to keep their sanity by growing plants from seeds saved from their meals.
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