So I'm sitting at home on a dark rainy day, listening to Leonard Cohen, and dreaming of spring. I've made a list of "chores" that need to be done in the yard once the weather cooperates. One of which involves procuring a load of mushroom compost - oh yeah, you know, the smelly stuff. In my ongoing attempt to richen-up the clay and roots that classify as soil around here I'm going to make a conscious effort each spring to spread a layer of organic matter on every bed. Compound that over 10-20 years and I'm hoping to have some dark rich soil at my fingertips.
The yard is begging, pleading, shouting for spring. Bulbs are poking their heads out all over the place - daffodils, crocus, hyacinths, iris, squill - and perennials are beginning to unfurl the year's first tentative fronds. I'm elated to see that quite a few things have self-seeded, like the bee balm from my mother's yard, and other plants that I grew from seed last year have decided to come back for another year, including the thyme, yellow yarrow, and foxglove. Spring seems to come on so fast and is gone just as quickly. Working from home this year should allow me extra time to savor this delicate season.
And to top off this dreary but hopeful Friday, the rhubarb and peppers that I planted a couple weekends ago have all sprouted! I think that's the quickest I've ever had pepper seeds sprout - I sure hope impatience is not the theme for this year.