Outraged by this treatment, they proceeded to upstage every other plant in the garden - even the dahlias. Upstaging a dahlia, when you are only a tenth of its size, is a cheeky thing to do.Purists look down on concoctions such as `Allsorts', but if you want to understand what tricks a flower can do, growing a mixture is the easiest way to learn. Some of these zinnias were vast footballs of flowers, shocking pink, orange and yellow Some were an extraordinary chartreuse green. Some had wonderfully complex centres, the stamens ringed in contrasting colours.

None was a duffer.So how does one choose between varieties? I start by discounting any that the seedsman describes as a "dwarf strain". By nature, zinnias make wonderfully muscular, meaty growth, which does not need support The overall habit is robust and the stems are strong. Other, weakly constructed plants may be strengthened by dwarfing. Zinnias certainly do not need it.I like the sound of `Envy' (Mr Fothergill, pounds 1.45) which is two feet high with lime green flowers. `Tufted Exemption' (Mr Fothergill, pounds 1.55) has an odd, almost conical head, with a lower row of petals making a frill round the bottom. `Scabious Flowered' (Thompson & Morgan, pounds 1.89) has huge, crested flowers in a mixture of scarlet, carmine, pink, yellow, orange and cream.The first zinnia to arrive in this country was Z pauciflora.

Its name suggests that it was an unimpressive performer, and Philip Miller, who grew it at the Chelsea Physic Garden in the 1750s, was not enthusiastic. Most of today's garden varieties have been bred from another Mexican species, Z elegans. This arrived with us in 1796, thanks to the Marchioness of Bute, wife of the Ambassador to the Spanish Court. She was given it by Professor Ortega of Madrid, who also supplied her with the first dahlias.Perennials are no more difficult to grow from seed than annuals, and I usually try some new aquilegia each year.

They like our heavy clay soil; are equally happy in sun or shade, and have handsome greyish foliage which is an asset even when the plant is not flowering.Last year I grew `Melton Rapids' (Thompson & Morgan, pounds 2.49), deep, inky- blue flowers of the flat-faced, (so-called clematis-flowered) kind. These are much easier to keep in cultivation than the long-spurred types: however, you need both. Aquilegias, though, are such shameless cross-breeders, it is impossible to keep named varieties true to type. This year I am trying out `Long-Spurred Choice Mixed' (Dobies, 88p).

That should spawn some bizarre new mixtures.Given an easy ride through winter, some flowers that we treat as annuals (like snapdragons) will settle down to flower again the following year. They make untidy plants, but come into bloom sooner than the new brood raised freshly from seed. So after dead-heading the snapdragons in the front border, and trimming back the straggliest growths, I've left them in situ, to see whether they'll perform again next summer.This was an F2 strain called `Corona Mixed' (Suttons, 99p), un-dwarfed at 20in, strong growing (though sprawling by nature) and in a good mix of colours. This year I want some dark-leaved, deep-red snapdragons, to put in a border with Canna iridiflora and the elegant grass, Pennisetum macrourum. `Black Prince' (Thompson & Morgan, pounds 1.69) sounds suitably saturated. This year's novelty is a snapdragon with variegated foliage: `Powys Pride' (Thompson & Morgan, pounds 1.99) is 12-18in tall with velvety-red flowers on top of leaves splashed and mottled with cream.The asters `Allsorts Mixed' (Mr Fothergill, pounds 1.10) were a disaster, melting in the damp, overcast summer to make little heaps of powdery mildew wherever they had been planted. But they are one of a clutch of familiar flowers that I always grow, and this year I'm trying the tall `Matsumoto Mixed' (Suttons, pounds 1.05).Other staples are sunflowers, Californian poppies, nasturtiums and pot marigolds.