The Garden Butler Essays

Every so often, somebody asks me a question that makes me smile.

Usually it’s after we’ve spent a little time talking about their garden, perhaps discussing a hedge that’s become rather larger than anyone remembers planting, or wondering whether a particular shrub has finally reached the end of its useful life. Somewhere during the conversation, they pause for a moment, look at the side of my fleece and ask, almost apologetically,

“Why Garden Butler?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question.

After all, I’ve never been asked whether I know how to polish silver, announce dinner or decant a bottle of claret [although admittedly, l also know how to do that]. Most of my days are spent with muddy boots, compost beneath my fingernails and a pair of secateurs somewhere close to hand.

At first glance, there doesn’t appear to be much connection between butlering and gardening.

Yet for me, the connection has always felt entirely natural.

The curious thing is that I didn’t invent the name after hours spent trying to come up with something unusual. There wasn’t a branding agency, a marketing meeting or a notebook full of clever alternatives. If I’m honest, the idea had been following me around for most of my working life before I finally recognised it.

Long before Earthly Comforts came into existence in 2022, I spent several years working in hospitality. Looking after people was simply part of everyday life. Whether working in hotels or other service roles, the work was never just about completing a task. It was about noticing. It was about anticipating. It was about understanding that people often remembered how they felt far longer than they remembered exactly what had been done.

For a period in my mid-twenties, I also worked as a butler for a family.

Looking back now, I realise that experience taught me far more than I appreciated at the time. The popular image of a butler is someone carrying silver trays through the hallways of a grand country house, but that isn’t what stayed with me. What stayed with me was something much quieter.

A good butler notices. A good butler takes responsibility. A good butler solves small problems before they become large ones. Most importantly, a good butler builds confidence. The household simply feels as though someone is paying attention. At the time, I didn’t imagine those lessons would have anything to do with gardening. Life has a habit of surprising us.

When I started Earthly Comforts, I thought I was creating a gardening business. Like every new business owner, I was concentrating on practical things: finding clients, buying equipment, learning the rhythms of running a small company and, above all else, making sure people received a reliable service.

Looking back, I can see that something else was happening quietly in the background. Without really noticing it, I wasn’t approaching gardens in quite the same way as everyone else.

Of course, the lawns needed mowing and the hedges needed trimming. Weeds don’t disappear simply because you’ve developed a philosophy, and roses still demand pruning regardless of how reflective their gardener happens to be. Gardening remained gardening.

Yet I found myself becoming just as interested in the things surrounding the work as the work itself. I wanted clients to feel they could trust us.

I wanted them to know that if something looked wrong, we’d notice it. If a gate had become loose, if a young tree was beginning to struggle, if a path had started to become slippery or if a shrub needed attention before it became a problem, somebody would quietly mention it.

I don’t think I consciously planned any of that. It simply felt like the right way to look after another person’s garden. Only later did I realise I wasn’t really describing gardening. I was describing the service.

Perhaps that’s why the name Garden Butler never felt strange to me. It wasn’t an attempt to sound different. It was simply the closest description I could find for the way I instinctively wanted Earthly Comforts to behave.

Gardening happened to be the work we carried out, but the real ambition was always to leave people feeling that their garden, and perhaps a small corner of their lives, was being looked after by someone who genuinely cared.

Of course, I didn’t understand all of that in 2022. If you’d asked me then what kind of business I wanted to build, I’d probably have said, “A really good gardening business.” That answer would have been perfectly truthful. It just wouldn’t have been the whole truth.

Only over the following years, through many gardens, countless conversations and more than a few unexpected lessons, did I begin to realise that Earthly Comforts was slowly becoming something rather different. The gardening hadn’t changed, but my understanding of what we were really offering certainly had. Looking back now, I can see that the seeds of that idea weren’t planted when I founded Earthly Comforts.

They’d been planted decades earlier, by a young man working in hospitality who discovered, almost by accident, that there is a quiet satisfaction in looking after things well. At the time, I thought I was learning how to serve people. I didn’t realise I was also learning how I would one day look after gardens. And I certainly didn’t realise that one simple phrase—Garden Butler—would eventually explain everything.

Published by Earthly Comforts

The Earthly Comforts blog supports my gardening business.

Leave a comment