I don’t know about you, but, despite all my best intentions, my potting shed gets less and less pristine as the season rolls on. It’s a small hut so it should be kept immaculate, but pots and root trainers start encroaching on the tiny potting bench. And the shelves of pots and seed trays become less well ordered as things aren’t always put exactly in their appointed rows.

So, on a wet day, cleaning and tidying is a terrific use of time. Luckily I’m not a Victorian pot boy labouring under the stern, unforgiving eye of the head gardener. The pot boy was the lowest of the low, and on his first day at work, he was taken to a lean-to outside the potting shed. A huge tank was filled with water from a gutter, and there he laboured with icy water on cold, bleak days.

He was told that dirty pots would pass fungi and disease to their next occupants and that filthy earthenware pots were less porous than clean ones, so couldn’t absorb and transmit vital air throughout them. The blue-fingered boy was instructed to wet new pots to improve their air absorption, but make sure they weren’t soaking as this would make the compost too wet. Finally, he had to arrange the washed pots in staggered rows, so the wet containers wouldn’t stick together, and then store his pots safely away from potentially cracking frosts.

He had to do all this because, as with so much in gardening, that’s how it had always been done. Why try something new or different, after all?

Undoubtedly we use plastic pots differently to the old earthenware ones, but head gardeners were right when saying fungi and disease could be transmitted. I’m the first to bin any pots containing diseased specimens, but wouldn’t consider washing away any fungi if the previous occupant had been growing healthily. If a community of beneficial fungi and bacteria has become established, why get rid of it? Spores of beneficial fungi, such as mycorrhizae, and "hibernating" bacteria will persist over winter. Good luck to them.

That apart, I’d certainly knock out any loose soil and check through root trainer sections for slugs or their eggs. I want to be vigilant, not destructive.

That’s also my approach in the greenhouse. The beds are crammed with plants all year round and, especially with very limited winter sun, the windows need to sparkle. So, once the cordon tomatoes are out, I thoroughly wash down the glass with plain, hot water. When hot water isn’t enough, I use an environmentally-friendly product, Biotal Algae, and mould stain cleaner on stains on windows or surfaces.

This algal cleaner also works a treat on the polypropylene roof of the greenhouse and the polytunnel skin which both become opaque so quickly.

I won’t get into a cleaning frenzy, though. Cobwebs in corners or under a shelf stay unmolested and fusty crevices and gaps are left alone. I don’t want a hyperactive broom to sweep away my workers, the army of spiders and lacewings lurking there ready to pounce on early aphids.

I’m much more rigorous when it comes to the tool shed. Only a well-serviced lawnmower with razor-sharp blades gives a decent finish, so will get it sorted out over the next few weeks. And while my strimmer’s carburettor needs attention, it’ll have to lumber on for a few more weeks.

Getting hand tools ready for winter is just as important. Everything should be washed and rubbed down, and wooden shafts oiled. I’m afraid I don’t normally follow the Victorian practice of cleaning spades and forks at the end of every day, but this is essential over the winter, when the soil is heavy and claggy. I also like to sharpen shears and the cutting edge of hoes before consigning them to hibernation.