There will be no gardening today. Not even in a bathrobe. Nor tomorrow or the next or for a while until we dig out. I was all set to drop in a picture of more blooms that are out of sync with the seasons – my dafs were completely open in mid-January when we had a snow – a subject I think is incredibly relevant to the discussion of climate change.
But I’ve got more immediate concerns right now that we’re blanketed as though we live somewhere out in the plains. I spent part of yesterday slogging out to the greenhouse to make sure the little thing didn’t collapse, though it’s rated to withstand a fair amount of wind (50 kts) and weight (can’t remember). I was glad I wasn’t fretting about getting water to seedlings and making sure an outage didn’t freeze a whole batch that I had already started in flats of seed-starting mix. Expensive and frustrating, but then again, gardening can be too, let’s be honest. Meanwhile, I’ve got wads of seed packets on my dining room table, and as soon as I get a few minutes, I’m gonna start to sort them into a series of timings: what gets seeded into flats as soon as I dare (probably after next week’s snowstorm passes and diminishes), and what doesn’t get seeded until later. Waste not, want not. Which is what sustainable gardening and living is all about.
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