Merry Christmas

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I spent most of my time outside getting cold and wet so look forward to the festive season with great enthusiasm. Then, after three days of staying in enjoying my fill of festive cheer, I feel the great outdoors beckoning once more. It’s not just me, the little broccoli’s start to go a bit stir crazy and have to be taken out to burn off some of the sugar they have consumed.
Past experience warned me not to take them to Tatton Park with the other 900,00 residents of Cheshire. Even the deer struggle to find room to graze with all the new bicycles, scooters and four wheel drives. Instead we chose to go for our constitutional around Lymm dam.
Dressed in wellies, waterproofs and shiny new hats and scarves we had a fabulous time marvelling at the water level ( it continues to rain in Manchester) and building dams with leaves and sticks. We were delighted to see an ancient oak decorated with ribbons, a simple exercise in celebrating the importance of trees. I think I will do something similar on my
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allotment next year with the apple, pear and plum trees.
I suspect another of my reasons for going out was to afford me an opportunity to wear my new hat. It is my pride and joy both versatile and stylish…I think?
With the ear flaps down I could be mistaken for a world war two pilot, flaps up, a russian spy. Either way it is too good for gardening, it’s intended use.
Having made our way around the lake we pottered off for a hot chocolate at Willowpool garden centre. We were pleased to discover that the rustic tea room still oozed Dutch charm, festooned with christmas decorations hanging from every rafter. Would I go there to buy plants? Absolutely not. Would I go there for tea and toast? Probably.
A wonderful day was rounded off beautifully when I went to pick up my little blue van. Once again it sailed through it’s mot, the mechanics undeterred by the numerous plant sticks, christmas greenery and other gardening paraphenalia that carpets the floor of my trusty motor.
So merry christmas one and all, it’s time for me to settle back down in front of a roaring log fire with a satsuma in one hand, a glass of ginger wine in the other.

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