Then I remember, "Oh yeah, it's that time of year again." Like my yearly mental period or something.
So, instead of heading straight to the bottom of a bag of peanut M&Ms, or worse, I walk straight out to my garden to see if salvation is in sight.
I'm happy to report that salvation has arrived.

Now, granted, the peas sprouted a few weeks ago and have been making their awkwardly winding ways toward the pea fence, but it wasn't until today that I saw the first one latch on. This, to me, is the sign of good things to come. Because, for me, good things happen in greatest abundance when the garden is big and buzzing and making uncontrolled progress toward the outer reaches of our property.
A good day starts with a walk out to the garden where I gasp in shocked surprise to see that there are approximately one hundred more tomatoes on the plant than the day before or when I find that the pumpkin plant has started growing into the neighbor's yard. If there happen to be bees covering all the yellow blooms on the cukes, hummingbirds having a death match over the feeder and our yard cat pouncing on an intruding rodent, all the better.
So, now I feel like I can go about my merry way this weekend knowing that when I return from a few days out of town I will have a growing garden to look forward to. Plus, I'm getting ready to order seeds...must...contain...myself...for...a...few...more...days...
As an aside, my blisters and I went out on the town for a longer run on Thursday without too many ill effects. I plan to be picking up my training on Monday as though I'd never heard of blisters. Coming soon - full distance training run (6 miles+). Stay tuned for that debacle...
Also, sometime this coming week I'll be finishing and posting my February Institches project. And then I will be getting some much needed shuteye.
Happy weekends, all.
a garden in february is foreign to me. (maybe because we just got 5 1/2 inches of snow.)
ReplyDeleteLera, me too.
ReplyDeleteWe were supposed to be skiing still, with a little Tahoe merriment mixed in for good measure, but alas, no. The garden grows, and I lose the missus when I trek to the mountains.
Of course, 13 feet fell in our favorite spot in the last week, so it looks as if Finny is going to have to garden alone.
Poor Finny.