Don't get me wrong, Christmas is brilliant, obviously. Going home and drinking tonnes of booze and forcing a week's worth of calories down the chute in twenty four hours and then meeting other people that you don't see all that often for more drinks and food and then seeing some of the outlying relatives during which why not have a bit of that leftover cake, and so on, and on and on: it's all brilliant. However, I'm also quite a big fan of the few days - if you're lucky enough to be excused from work - after which all major duties have been completed and set-piece meals consumed and you can just sort of potter about, tidy up and hunker down for a few days, punctuated only by Charlie Brooker's end-of-year thingy.
We'll be hunkering and pottering from now until such time as our jobs require us to re-attend them. We pottered right on up to the allotment earlier this very morn, and a quite gorgeous, clear winter day it was too, crisp and fresh and, actually, a bit of warmth issuing from that lazy ol' sun. It's over a month since the last time we were up there, which on the one hand is a disgrace, but on the other hand is totally fine as there really isn't a great deal to be doing anyhow. Nonetheless, even in this most inhospitable of growing seasons, there are happenings and stirrings afoot.
The onion news is similarly encouraging, with the majority of sets we planted having at least a bit of green erupting from their tops. No sign of the garlic yet, but that got planted a good couple of inches underground. Patience, patience!
The days are already lengthening; before you know what's what it'll be time to chit the spuds, assess the seed-drawer and make plans for the new season. For now though, I've got some serious hunkering to crack on with.
Here's hoping you had a splendid and restive Festivus, and best wishes for the new year and beyond.