PEOPLE talk about enjoying their gardens in the clement seasons: spring’s awakening, as catkins appear on the twigs and bulbs push up through the grass; the summery sound of mallet on wood, gentle argument from the lawn and swallows on the wing; dahlias and lazy bees, turning leaves and autumn twilights. Winter, however, gets a hard rap.
For every day that brings frost on the topiary, there are three that bring muddy paws into the kitchen. At this time of year, some people can barely raise their nose from the seed catalogues or their feet from the sofa,
