I’m having trouble keeping track of what’s what. There was the holiday blur, with odd hours and events, vacation days, a couple December birthdays–or maybe a dozen–I can’t really remember. And then we had the situation with weather. So extra bodies around the house, some “working from home.” I always work from home, usually with plenty O’solitude. I didn’t get much done.
There is rumor of more inclement weather headed our way, though I’m hoping it’s a ploy to get us tuned back in to local news. After all, the lines-at-the-airport and post office stories are wrung dry.
So, I’m contemplating how to recover my gardening groove, or at least a garden-planning groove, but challenged. I’ve been digging out books and magazine, trying to hook something that will ignite a spark. Slow going.
Also, what about gardening after it’s been weathering heavily? How long must one to wait to know what survived? For instance, when it has looked like this for over a week, what happens? Does snow really insulate the plants–or are frigid temperatures before and after a mitigating factor? I know, light-weight by many people’s standards, but big around these parts, and I have no idea. How do you plan around this?
I can report that the Rhodocoma capensis seems to have pulled through with aplomb. It’s one of those mounds in the photo above, somewhere on the right. I lost track of what was where. Is that common in snowy climes, or just my ADD kicking in?
The jury is still out on the Fatsia japonica to the rear. It’s standing partially upright again, but looking quite the Dr. Seuss character.
The Black Mondo Grass is looking terrific. (Pay no attention to the mess all around.) I transplanted a wee start from the big patch out front, and it grew this much when I wasn’t looking. I’m going to divide more from the front garden this year: I swear.
I feel like I should be more motivated, but of course, I don’t know who I’m trying to kid. Maybe I’ll start claiming my style is plant-driven, wherein when the opportunity is rife, I’ll be driven to buy plants–and subsequently driven to figure out where to put them. Plant driven design, right? I’ve seen a couple of the big spring sales advertised recently, and that caused at least a mild buzzing.
Tissue alert here: I’d be remiss before leaving in not mentioning that we lost our beloved Chow Chow–a few days before Christmas. Pumpkin was almost 13, and was always a fabulously healthy dog–until suddenly she was not. So in addition to uncertainty about what will survive after our snow and frigid temperatures, I’m discovering how much of my gardening revolved around Pumpkin and her habits. We loved that pup, and we’re so grateful for her time with our family. Such a good girl.
In future posts, I shall make every effort to showcase more inspiring plant offerings, and I so appreciate your allowing me to get this out of my system. Here at Flamingo Park, I’ll be curled up with books and winter comfort food, anxiously awaiting signs of spring–and your wise comments. We are all in this together, right?