The annual rigmarole of a trip to the garden centre to buy a Christmas tree. This year, I took one for the team and decorated it all on my own before Jen got home. A contender for my second-least-favourite household chore. The uncontested worst household chore will come in a few weeks’ time, as we un-decorate the Christmas tree before Twelfth Night. It’s an awful lot of faff, but there’s something undeniably Christmassy about Christmas trees.
“…wonderfully droll, witty and entertaining… At their best Carter’s moorland walks and his meandering intellectual talk are part of a single, deeply coherent enterprise: a restless inquiry into the meaning of place and the nature of self.”
—Mark Cocker, author and naturalist
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