March 15, 2010
Although my tendencies run, as we know, toward list making, I've never been much of a list or plan person in the garden. I might start out with a plan, but as soon as the plants start showing up in the nurseries and farmers markets, or the seedlings in the window are ready, the plans go out the door. I always admired the beautiful garden journals but knew I'd never use one.
So I'm not sure if it's age or practicality or just the desire to do something different, but this years garden has been the subject of a myriad of plans and lists. And not just the vegetable garden. I've gone through plan after plan for every outdoor space we own. Bed layout, plant selection, seating, dining, they've all figured in there here and there. Part of it is just winter dreaming. There's nothing better than flipping through garden books on a cold winter's night and imagining the yard, fully mature, at the height of summer. But part of it is a real desire to make this yard ours. When we moved in there wasn't much beyond a glorious cherry tree and three slightly worse for wear dogwoods. Last summer we spread mulch for the flowers beds but other than a few daffodils and some pansies and pinks, didn't really plant anything. But then again, last summer we were in full blown kitchen renovation, whole house painting and counter top pouring. We barely had time to breath much less plant flowers. This year will be the summer of the garden.
Over the weekend we finished adding soil to the vegetable beds, set out seeds for carrots, parsnips, beets and lettuce and put a fig tree, a few bags of spring bulbs and a flat of spurge out in the flower beds.
The chickens came over and rolled around in the mulch while Will planted more pansies along the fence and I plotted out what we had planted. I've always envied those gardeners that can tell you the name of every plant in their garden. Not just the plant but the variety. I've never been one. And there's no guarantee that I'll remember the names of what I've planted, but at least it's written down so I can go look.
The sun is supposed to be out most of the week with only a few chances of a drizzle so it seems like it is well and truly spring, no matter what the groundhog said. We've got morning glory seeds to plant at the gates and asters, cosmos, violas and flax seeds sprouting in the mudroom and the neighbor down the road has a box full of lily bulbs for me as soon as he can get them out from under his porch. Spring.