I’m not sure of much anymore, but I’m pretty sure I’m ready for garden season to come back. I miss shorts weather, barefoot gardening, sun on my skin, sweating. I’ve been working outside during the least soggy days, pulling weeds until my fingers go numb from cold. Wearing layers is itchy and uncomfortable. Sometimes I wonder if I’m allergic to my clothing (how is that even possible) or if I’m just being over-sensitive and intolerant of how it feels on my skin. I loathe shoes and socks, but a normal day lately has me wearing two+ pair of socks to stay un-miserable. Maybe I’ll dig out some more rugs or knit some slippers.
I would just sleep through this month, but there is exciting stuff going on outside. Bulbs are poking out of the soil everywhere, and snowdrops have been blooming in the yard for a couple weeks now. Mini irises made their appearance this week, buds are swelling on branches, calendula is still blooming, rhubarb is pushing out new wrinkly leaf stalks. I’ve been thinking about finding more piles of bricks and boulders to play with this spring. Jon has been looking for a nice batch of funky old garden bricks for me to work with. Crossed fingers for someone with clean-ish ones who will deliver. Bricks are the best… so easy to move around, so flexible in how they can be used. Like legos for grown up gardeners. I’d much rather spend my time moving bricks and dirt around than anything else.
Inside I’ve been painting and fixing things up for you know what. Painting is soooo soothing. I could paint walls all day if it weren’t for toxins. I’m such a hippie.