February comes next week, so it's time for me to start craving plants. Flowers. Vegetables. Perennials. Annuals. Natives. Tropicals. Herbs. Shrubs. Trees.
Tim and I will have a whole new gardening/landscape experience with the new house. When I lamented leaving my well-established planting beds with their rich soil and nightcrawlers the size of garter snakes (I love them...but don't make me touch them), my beloved reminded me that our homesite was a cow pasture. I can't wait to see if we are blessed with cowpie-enriched soil. If not, well, we'll be able to break out our composter and start making some damn fine dirt outta leftovers and trimmings.
When we get moved in, I'll have to sit at the windows (or, please God, out in the yard in the warm March sun) and dream up some plans. We've already called dibs on a crabapple and a dogwood...maybe an oak or two. I've picked out a spot for a cool, low-height tree like a weeping cherry. So what if it will take a few years to knock a dent in the landscape dreams? It will be fun, and with any luck, never-ending.
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