If I had to sum up my week, I’d call it the changing of the guard(s). It’s still winter elsewhere, but here, spring has hit full force and shows no signs of stopping, despite near-freezing lows and cold, gray rain. The robins are out and about, and the cardinals keep popping out, a stark red contrast to the brown landscape.
I have planted my spring vegetable seeds outdoors, started some brassica indoors (in hopes of sneaking in a floret or so of broccoli before summer hits), and am trying to get used to a new morning watering routine. Gone are the luxurious mornings, where I walked from one room to another seeking warmth; in its place are rushed mornings in which I try to remember to turn on the lights for the indoor seeds, water the outside seeds, and look around the garden, sometimes helping daffodils poke out of the rough earth.
It’s been tiring, though, and I know that it won’t last, and that it won’t be long before I start getting up early to get the garden maintenance done before the heat hits, so I try to enjoy those brief moments. Though I must admit to being in a funk because the weather is in a continual state of limbo, hot one day, cold the next, and because I always feel nervous starting seeds. Basically I’ve planted little things called hope, and it breaks my heart when the occasional cat or squirrel knocks over my carefully piled mounds, or when it gets extremely windy, making me worry that the seeds will be blown away. Then I remember, that one of the nicest things about gardening is that you get to start all over again. The hardest part is the waiting, and watching to see what happens.
It is no wonder, then, that I am glad that the end of February is near. March has already blown her strong winds, and I hope it brings some respite from winter for those of you who are tired of it. (And for those of you who feel cheated out of winter, I hope next year is better.)
On the reading front, I am slowly being derailed from the 52 books project, having finished a library book (Going Bovine, by Libba Bray) and started a book I just bought (And I shall have some peace there, by Margaret Roach). Ooops. So there will be a fair amount of reading this weekend, as well as some much-needed mindless knitting (an Icelandic fair isle sleeveless sweater of some kind). I feel like I’m sneaking in some knitting before winter really ends, but it might be for this year’s incoming fall and winter.
I am going to leave you with this lovely story. Given all the bickering and political fights I’ve been reading about these days, it is nice to read about someone who does not care about profit nor power but rather, about the community.
Til next week,