"White rabbits, white rabbits" I said to Caspar early this morning, as he was the only one awake besides Miss Callie, and she doesn't believe in such nonsense.
And Welcome to February!
We are having mild, damp weather. The clouds hang low in gloomy despondency, but in the garden things are happening!
A week ago I looked speculatively at the forsythia in the garden, and decided to break off a small bit. Popped it into a narrow container and put it on the kitchen windowsill, along with the gourds and a bit of dried flax from last summer, (which has lost almost all its heavenly blue bits).
And in the big bathroom a pot of pink tulips are promising a treat in a couple of weeks, along with the red geraniums which are just coming back into bloom
Weird old Christmas cactus bloomed in November, and now is doing an encore, but only a half-hearted effort.
Charles did a tour of the garden this morning, and the rising sap awakened in him his Master Pruner spirit! After sixty-five years and the deep down knowledge that he knows exactly what he's doing, it still makes me nervous when he gets the pruning shears in his hands and that enthusiastic gleam in his eye.
However, he is welcome to prune the forsythia sometime very soon, and I will fill the big bathtub with its branches and we will have a glorious golden froth to complement the red geraniums.
I poke and peer along the pathway, but all I have found so far are a few daffodil bulbs poking through the ground, and the Lenten Roses pushing their vibrant scarlet stubs into the balmy air.
The quail and a sharp shinned hawk take turns patrolling the garden.
What will tomorrow bring when the groundhog wakens momentarily to sniff the air for spring?????