I have some strangely specific reading interests at times, and one of them is memoirs/biographies about people's gardens. I am really not sure how this book would appeal to the average reader, but if you have the same extremely specific reading interest as me, this is a nice example of that niche. Antony Woodward writes in a fairly amusing way, although it's definitely been exaggerated for humourous effect (I can tell because his wife didn't divorce/murder him despite his commitment to absolute absurdity). However, still enjoyable to read. For my favourite example of this type of book, try Common Ground by Janice Marriot and Virginia Pawsey.