Now that my wrist has healed nicely I am afflicted with itchy hands,
- itching to get out into the garden, to prune the roses, to search for spring bulbs,
to see how the compost is progressing and to rescue the hellebores from their icy bed.
It seems life is centered around the weather report,
and the weather man has nothing to say about spring
until at least the middle of March.
Two weeks ago Son #3 came to visit in the afternoon. The sky was blue and the sun was shining and all was so promising that we rescued the small garden table and chairs from the shed and had tea on the deck!
I should have taken a picture, for now here is the selfsame table with a couple of inches of snowy icing decorating its glass top!!
and winter has returned for what we persist in thinking is 'one last visit' when really he is only reminding us that the polar vortex is in charge of his travel arrangements and he can drop in just any old time the spirit moves him - alas!!
This morning the sun tries bravely to shine through a thin cloud cover
and in the west there is a little blue sky, but this, I fear,
is just Winter cruelly teasing....
I am reminded that the spring after we moved to town from the farm (1988) we planted early potatoes on the 3rd of March!!!!
( in that lovely vegetable garden we had )
I sigh, and think of all the things that can keep me busy and optimistic for the next two weeks. I am emptying drawers and being firmly stern with myself as I discard into a black bag for the Bargain Centre.
All the spring cleaning I do now will leave me free to indulge myself in the garden
whenever Winter decides to vacate.
I have some denim strips cut to bind the ends of rugs I made many years ago that are beginning to curl.
The wonderful Crazy Quilt duvet cover I made in early days needs mending and I have plans to turn it into a proper quilt and pass it on to the granddaughter to whom I promised it.
And the warp on the loom begs to be finished.......
Inside, the pussy willow branches I cut keep company with some late amaryllis that lay forlornly in a bin at the Garden Shop, passed over by earlier shoppers. And I yearn for some forsythia branches
to brighten the house with their cheery yellow blooms.
I pour a cup of mid morning coffee and devour the gardening book I brought from the library -
'Green Places in Small Spaces' by Kerwin Fischer, and I make plans
for a DIY garden tower made out of pots and sturdy gridded wire.
And perhaps a window box hung along the top rail of the porch,
extravagant with petunias and flowing blue lobelia.
And veggies planted in among the raised bed flowers.
God meant every day to be lived to its fullest potential, I think
so here's to dreams, tidy drawers and
clean woodwork!