On my lunchtime walk I came across two guys delivering Christmas trees. One was having a fag and drew attention to the whole enterprise by wearing a kilt and branded fleece. I guess he was the face of the operation. The other was sorting through the trees, getting the right one out. He wasn’t wearing a kilt. They have obviously discovered their niche. I wondered if they were Christmas tree growers all year, preparing for the big rush in December, or if they did something else from January to November before joining in the festive commerce. Either way I guess this sort of thing is big business now. It isn’t enough for a workplace to just send someone out to buy a tree and some decorations. It is now a professional enterprise.
Recently I’ve heard a fair few people talk about that old curse May You Live In Interesting Times. And Interesting may be one of the more polite adjectives I might think of when thinking of 2016. And when you live in interesting times there is a great temptation to escape. In the past I might have escaped via the bottle, or a YouTube rabbit hole of nostalgic clips, or some daft game on a mobile phone. And I’m not sure any of those are entirely bad, at least in moderation. But in 2016 I have escaped by gardening. Except I don’t think it is just escape. I think it is more than that. Perhaps I should just let someone else say this more eloquently. Read the rest of this entry »
Hanging baskets are funny things. They feel a bit dated, a bit fussy. Fussy in how they look, very much a construction, an obvious artifice, and so perhaps a little bit jarring when it comes to a natural space like a garden. They are also fussy in terms of maintenance too, with the constant deadheading and watering. I’m forever fussing around them, watering them even when it rains. I have had too many failed baskets. I have learned that hanging baskets crave attention.