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Will I be out in the garden this weekend? I will. Should you be? Absolutely. Nothing better than a lungful of oxygen to clear the head or half an hour with some pleasurable mechanical skill to help the leftovers to go down.
I had a friend who always used to prune the grapevine in his cold greenhouse at Christmas, because if you leave vines much longer than that the cuts bleed sap so terribly. He’d work in silence, alone, well jacketed up, concentrating on taking back all those long lengths of last year’s growth to just a couple of buds, scrubbing off all the loose, bug-concealing bark until they were sinewy and brown as an old salt’s legs, then sweeping out any last dead leaves.
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