Recognition trumps memory. I was organizing my greenhouse this week and came across several clumps of seemingly dead plants. I had no recollection of saving them for any reason. Luckily, I have an ability to search for some forensic evidence. After digging around for the roots and smelling some of the crispy foliage, I was able to identify both purple rooster Monarda and some sort of miniature hosta. This is when memory finally kicked in. I save everything in the ridiculous and yet optimistic hope that revival is possible.

This is the sixth Christmas column I have written and I must confess I do not have much for you. Here it is Christmas afternoon and I sit here hoping for some sort of inspiration. My family gets together on Christmas Eve. We eat a big meal, open gifts and attend church. This year we were happy to share Violet’s gift of some fiddle songs for the congregation. She has been taking fiddle lessons only for a few months and is happy with this new form of music. She has been learning the Suzuki method through the public school system since kindergarten.

What is happening? Back in the 1970s there was a rainy Christmas day with temperatures in the mid-50s. It was so unusual that we recorded it on a tape recorder. Rain pounding with sounds of little children. Now Christmas has what I call Halloween weather.

I loathe and despise leaf blowers. Who came up with such an invention? They are ear-shatteringly large, ecologically unsound and remarkably stupid. Now that I’ve told you what I really think . . . it seems every time we are working quietly on a job site the “mow and blow” crew shows up. I understand they can be handy to get leaves out of tricky places but, honestly, a rake and a broom can manage the job. I’ve watched workers blow tiny pieces of grass from dirt driveways, for Pete’s sake.

I love a typographical error in the columns. Oftentimes it gives me some ideas for the following week. Last Friday’s paper misread my hometown of Rew, Penn. as Rue. It is easy to misread my handwriting. That’s right! I still put pen to paper, and my editor is kind enough to enter it into the computer on my behalf.

There is always something interesting in the natural world, especially in the garden if you are paying attention. Last weekend was so beautiful I spent quite a bit of time in the vegetable garden. What started as a day to put things in order for the coming winter turned out to be simply a day of continuing maintenance.