I read cozy and historical mysteries, a bit of Paranormal/UF, and to mix it up, I read science and gardening books on occasion.
Well this one is just a cozy read that hit me in just the right way.
Spanning from the late 1800's through the end of WWII, this is the story of a manor house's head gardener, from his inauspicious beginnings as a foundling through to his last days.
I'm left confused about the narrator: for much of the story it feels like you're listening to Old Herbaceous himself telling his story as he looks back; in fact I'm sure it is him. But there are moments of omniscient third person: the narrator lets the reader in on conversations and the internal dialogues of secondary characters that Old Herbaceous couldn't know about. It flows well if you don't focus too hard on it; it didn't throw me out of the story so much as just slow me down a little bit.
This was the perfect book for a cold, rainy do-nothing kind of day, and I closed the book smiling.
(This fills a Bingo square for Historical Fiction.)
edited because I just read it again and found so many errors....