So, the presents were exchanged, and we are both the happy possessors of some books that we were hoping for, and some that we didn't know existed but like them now we've seen them. I think the Systems Administrator was genuinely amazed to receive a copy of Revolution and counterrevolution: Class struggle in a Moscow Metal Factory, but in a good way, and I am looking forward to reading The Prince of the Marshes and other occupational hazards of a year in Iraq, though I did start yesterday with Gardens of the World. It looked a less demanding read, after all that lunch, and it has nice pictures. The big tabby tried to eat the string from the gammon, and apart from that all passed off peacefully.
It feels slightly odd not being at work today, it being a Monday, but the plant centre is closed. Not for us the frenzy of the Boxing Day sales. Since it was warm, dry and fairly calm, I got on with raking up leaves from the young oak tree in the back garden. It was planted by our predecessors, not long before we moved in, and we always call it 'the little oak tree', although 18 years on it is not very little. The leaves hung on until not long before Christmas, then the strong winds took them off and blew a lot of them into the borders, which is slightly irritating as I want them to make leaf mould, and it is far quicker raking them off the lawn than picking them out from among the plants in the beds.
Raking is good post Christmas lunch exercise. I have a plastic lawn rake with broad tines, that can't spear leaves on their tips. The secret is to grasp the handle with your palms and the flat, palm side of your fingers, all those bits of the hand that naturally and easily form callous in response to manual work. Avoid running it over the soft flap between thumb and index finger. It's easily done without thinking, and at the end of the session you will have removed a disc of skin from your hand, which will sting like hell. The same thing holds true for holding brushes if you are painting a wall or fence.
I also went on cutting the remains of the long grass at the edges of the daffodil lawn. That's a job that I started and half finished about two months ago, then got sidetracked into doing other things. Some of the clippings are green, but I'm hoping that they'll burn OK on the bonfire, mixed in with the brambles I've been cutting out of the wood, and other woody debris. They look too weedy to put on the compost heap. The eleagnus hedge has ballooned out over the lawn, and I'm taking that back as well. I can't believe that one is supposed to cut Eleagnus x ebbingei in late December, and if we have a sudden cold spell (not unlikely in January and February) the hedge may suffer and I shall wish I'd done things more by the book. With the mild autumn the hedge has just kept growing, and if I leave cutting it until the spring I'll trample on the daffodils. I haven't seen any emerging daffodil leaves yet, but I expect they'll be through pretty soon, if the weather continues like this.
Blackbirds and robins were singing all around the garden. It's easy to forget that the worst of the winter is probably still to come.
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