Bertrand Russell said that when he talked to another philosopher, he felt that human happiness was no longer possible. When he talked to his gardener, he felt exactly the opposite. I bet he didn’t talk to his gardener in December, when the poor fellow was hunched in his potting shed, warming his hands on a mug of cocoa and gazing morosely out over his frostbitten borders.

On the other hand, December is perhaps the best month for that important job, winter digging.
The soil should be warm enough to work, and dry enough to walk on
without causing compaction. And at other times of the year, of course,
it is likely to have stuff growing in it.



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