Basically, January is all about getting ready. I cannot suggest that you should be doing anything at all outdoors. Unless you have been doing no dig for a few years or have exquisite soil, the chances are the soil will be compacted and the structure damaged if you walk on it when it is very wet. Don’t be tempted to weed either, just so that it feels that you have a blank slate when the sowing seasons starts; what weeds you have are keeping the soil covered and protected, and they’ll only be back when spring arrives.

Order compost.

If the run on seeds is anything to go by, there is probably going to be a bit of a compost shortage when the season gets going. I find specialist compost to be so much better than garden centre compost and it is worth the faff of ordering, and the extra money that you pay for it. I am going 100% Fertile Fibre this year because it is just glorious. I did a big order at Christmas because I was feeling uncharacteristically organised.  I happened to be discussing it with India of Vervain this week (we were planning all her videos for the year and how she was going to persuade every member of Gather to grow bearded irises) and it turns out Fertile Fibre was started by her father, Robert Hurst, in 1989 and she has just started an Instagram account for them. What with this, and the secret that might get out that Monty Don only ever uses Fertile Fibre, I suggest that if you are going to order any compost, I’d get on it before the month is out.

Sort out your seed tin.

God, I love this. I adore it. I tip my seed tin out on the kitchen table and feel the rustle and the bulges. There are always a few beans that have burst out of their envelopes rattling round in the bottom, and a packet of a very exclusive something that too precious to sow and so it never grew. (Yes, I know this makes no sense.) The chances are that we are all going to struggle to get hold of seeds this year. Moving them across Europe has become almost impossible and everyone who has a bag of compost and a terracotta pot is aiming for The Good Life self-sufficiency in 2021. Even if the viability (the number of seeds that germinate successfully compared to the total number of seeds in the packet) drops off over time, I am going to be taking chances with old seed this year. As in, everything in the seed tin is going to be sown. This may seem drastic and a bit of a wager on 2022 being a better year for seed sourcing, but I am aiming for at least two thirds seed soverignty by next year. That is, I’ll be growing varieties that are open pollinated and deliberately cultivating some plants for seed and saving these. Like all good psychotherapists, I see the ultimate marker of success to put myself out of business. If I can give you a few packets and you can have flowers and food forever, I shall declare this a life well lived.

Pruning roses.

If you have roses, and you haven’t pruned them already, now is the time. This recent cold weather has done me a favour. My roses often have a flower or two on them all the way through the winter and, although my secateurs itch, I can’t bring myself to cut them right back. However, two hard frosts and they are in tatters. I am going in. If you have a waxed jacket, put it on. I always start in a thick, winter woolly jumper and spend the first twenty minutes cursing and unhooking myself. I remember a trial at Wisley where they compared a bed of roses pruned carefully and intricately by a highly skilled horticulturalist, and one that they ran a hedge-trimmer over. They fared pretty much the same. However, where’s the satisfaction in that?

A decent video here about how to put a bit of thought and effort in and make out you’re an expert.

Unless you are investing in bare rooted plants, that’s pretty much it. Eat, drink, hibernate.