This is the boring time of the year. Weather is yucky (technical term) even though we haven’t had the really cold winter weather yet.
My yearning for warmer weather fuels unrealistic expectations that will slap me in the butt during the summer.
It starts with those seed catalogs. I dog-ear the pages. Should I buy seeds and start them myself? Try to buy at a garden store in May? (This is a huge decision because starting them at home is more work than you think it is.)
Last year I didn’t start any seeds, not even tomatoes. Big mistake. I couldn’t find my favorite varieties even though every store had at least 60 different types.
The year before I had started tomatoes and a few flowers. I resisted investing big bucks in equipment so I ended up with very leggy (but healthy) plants that looked more like ivy vines than tomato plants growing happily in yogurt containers.
At one time I had the growing lights and all that. The thing about starting seeds is that when you plant a half-dozen, you end up with a gazillion plants. Damn seeds are so tiny that they sneak through your fingers looking for fertile soil to set down roots.
Then there are the cats. Morgan would check them every day to make sure there was no catnip growing. Conversations explaining that catnip was not planted would end up in pouting sessions (I’ll let you guess who did the pouting).
Someone did some rearranging, right off the table. The cats blamed the beloved husband and he blamed the cats. One plant bit the dirt.
Did you ever try to get rid of extra plants at planting time? Friends (good friends!) duck across the street when they see you coming. They put fake obituaries in the paper so you don’t plead with them to take plants.
In the meantime the damn plants are growing like kudzu in the spare bedroom covering furniture and ceilings. These are the same plants that will be stunted until the end of August after you transplant them in the garden. Gah!
Even worse than the garden plants are the shrubs. Those catalogs have beautiful hydrangea (that refuse to bloom after a hard winter). Catalog trees are stunning. I won’t even go into the roses. Roses need a staff.
I will put away the garden catalogs. Maybe a quick look at the new exercise outfits will work instead. You don’t need to do yoga to wear the outfit! I can always buy tomatoes.