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| Chionodoxa under melting snow crystals |
Almost three weeks into the New World Order. The Covid-19 New World Order. How are you faring? My family and I are all healthy. My friends, to the best of my knowledge, are
all healthy. I’m very grateful.
I have
plans to do things in the next month that I’m not working. Rake the lawn. Clear the garden and get it ready for
spring. De-clutter my house. Write.
Walk every day. Stay off the
internet. Eat right and take my
vitamins. Do a project. Make art.
Read. Whittle down my To Be Read
piles. (Yes, piles plural, I’m
afraid.) Go to bed and get up at set
times. Get enough sleep. Stay sane.
And wash my hands, of course.
These are all things that I’ve been advised are good things to do during
this staying at home period.
And,
for the most part, I’ve been doing them.
And doing them happily. I’ve made
great progress with the raking and garden clearing. I have half a dozen piles
of leaves and debris to go on my permanent decomposing piles along the borders
of my property. There are snowdrops,
crocuses, chionodoxa, and cowslips blooming in various parts of the garden. Daffodils and hellebores have flower
buds. Green tulip and Lady’s Mantle
leaves are opening, and the red points of peonies are poking through the
soil.
I always read a lot, but I’ve been
reading a lot more these few weeks. In
addition to what my husband likes to call my Plant Porn (plant and seed
catalogs), I’ve finished five books and am almost finished with a sixth. I’ve even gone through some old gardening
magazines, pulling out things I want to keep and discarding the rest. That also qualifies as de-cluttering, right?
I walked Monday and Tuesday, but
not yesterday and today. I haven’t done
as well as I’d planned with staying off the internet either. I’m on too many mailing lists. One rabbit hole always leads to another.
And this morning I just could not drag myself
out of bed. In my defense, it was yet
another grey and gloomy day, cold and raw.
Yesterday, which was also gloomy, raw and cold, I spent all afternoon in
the garden, finally coming inside when I couldn’t feel my fingers and toes and
my right shoulder and neck were painful from reaching for and cutting down dead
plants. Even after I’d thawed out I
couldn’t get warm and comfortable, in spite of woolly socks and a blanket. Finally I gave up and went to bed, with an
extra blanket, the heating pad, and some Stress Away essential oil to rub on my
sore neck and shoulder. This morning I
was finally warm and comfortable, and not at all inclined to get out of bed.
I did of course. Pippin insisted. She always does. I’m amazed she let me sleep as late as I
did. Today, I let my plans slide. Sometimes one needs to do that. I washed dishes, but mostly it was a day for
drinking tea, reading (book and plant porn), and watching the birds at the feeder by the living room
window. Juncos, chickadees, titmice, nuthatches,
lots of goldfinches, the males blotchy yellow, and bright Mr. and Mrs.
Cardinal, he scarlet and she with her brilliant orange beak.
Tomorrow, as Scarlett O’Hara was
fond of saying, is another day.
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| cowslips |
Spring is an uncertain time, it must be
conceded, and very treacherous for the gardener who is often tempted to put out
tender plants too early. It is
traditionally the time of greatest growth and tremendous optimism. Promissory notes are out from the Bank of Hope,
but…the weather can undermine confidence and even threaten foreclosure. Ursula
Buchan
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