Two new vege bins please

It’s been a rough year — well, actually, it’s been a rough three years. And I know there are millions of people who have suffered far more than I have, but knowing that doesn’t actually make me feel any more cheerful about having had Covid, suffering the deaths of a close friend, a family member and our dog, losing our cat for 31⁄ months, and having Long Covid since July and counting.

Looking on the bright side, though, having Long Covid provides me with the perfect excuse for taking a minimalist approach to Christmas (not that I’ve ever not taken a minimalist approach to Christmas, but now at least I have a defence).

To be honest, I hardly ever decorate anything (that’s why Christmas bubbly comes with a gold bow on it from the supermarket, surely?) and if it weren’t for The Landscaper, who is Christmassy in the extreme, I probably wouldn’t know it was The Big Day apart from the fact that the shops aren’t open.

Having said all that, I have hung up one string of tiny coloured lights along the front of the pergola, and carols (his) will play in our house for at least a week before Christmas.

And if I manage to muster some energy, I will prepare a little pile of pressies to exchange with the random people who occasionally turn up bearing unexpected gifts.

First up on my random list this year will be a voucher for a manicure — because most gardeners, myself included, really need one. Even when I wear gardeners’ gloves my nails still get dirty. Dirt seeps through the rubber (yes, I know this is scientifically unlikely, but it happens, I swear) and it’s really hard to get rid of.

For other members of the grubbyfingernails brigade I’m buying serious gardeners’ soap (probably no different than any other kind but it sounds good and looks organic) and timber-backed nail brushes.

Baby herbs in little terracotta pots, which always look great on a windowsill, are a great standby gift. If you get stuck with them, you can re-home them to the vege patch and keep the pots to use again next year. How perfect is that?

I am also seeking out an environmentally and skin friendly suntan lotion to protect

I have only one request on my Christmas list this year. It’s for some sort of reasonably attractive container in which to plant leeks. I’ve been seduced by two fantastic leek recipes — Annabel Langbein’s leek and chicken with Provencal crust, and Jamie Oliver’s leek and turkey pie with roast chestnuts — either of which will have you racing to the garden centre for seedlings.

The usual advice is to plant leeks in autumn or spring but I’m going to take a chance and plant mine now. Leeks enjoy a spot in full sun in whatever container Your Partner has bought you for Christmas. Add plenty of organic matter like compost and sheep pellets, and a layer of vegetable mix. Use trenches or individual deep holes. Put your seedlings in, and just cover the roots with soil.

As the plants grow, fill in the hole or trench. Use mulch to keep the soil moist and loose and with luck your leeks will be ready to harvest in about 110 days. I will so be counting. While you’re at it, grow some thyme. It’s used in both the recipes that have taken my fancy so it evidently goes well with leeks. And, according to a veg guru friend of mine, grow leeks with carrots — evidently they give one another protection from insects. So, two new vegetable bins for Christmas please.

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Leigh Bramwell

gardening friends from what I call gardeners’ tan. This is when your forearms, the back of your neck and the strip of ankle between shoes and jeans are tanned and the rest is not.

You could take steps to avoid the problem by embracing the Annual World Naked Gardening Day when, according to the website, people across the globe are encouraged to tend their portion of the world's garden unclothed. A wee bit of a shame it happens in May in New Zealand.