This winter is interminable. As much as I rail about global warming, as much as I wished for a real old-fashioned winter, this has simply gone on too long. That 10" of snow last Sunday/Monday was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I'm itching to get out and inspect the garden. I want to prune, and plan, if not plant. I long to see some bare earth, and find the first flower. (a Johnny-jump-up, most likely) I want to haul the winter compost to the main pile by the mailbox garden, and clean out the supplies slopped in a corner of the garage. I'm eager to drag the patio pots out and clean sodden leaves off the deck and see what plant labels this winter has torn away. I want Kyle to get his motorcycle out of my garden shed so I can take inventory of pots, seed starting supplies and fertilizer. I want to be able to walk outside without bundling up like Nanook of the North.
I want Spring!
Jerry Baker’s Quackery Lives On by Susan Harris
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