in which i have difficulty committing to a beginning

a few weeks ago, i had a dream about the garden.

my mom was there.

in a way it was kind of funny because she would, unequivocally, hate my garden.  it is very high-maintenance and full of flowers and bees (she was allergic) and things that deer like to eat, so it is basically a 24-hour all-you-can-eat buffet that never stops needing things from me – these are all things my mom, an experienced gardener herself, hated.  but i do know that she would be quite impressed at the things i have learned and the things that i have been doing (or trying to do), and we even sat a few times, back in the day, and made sketches together of things i might do.  (though i never did tell her about the orchard)

anyway, the dream.  it was a wake-up call, really, a siren song from the new season when all i wanted to do was STAY UNDER THE BLANKETS, PLEASE.  just five more minutes, mom!

even pulling out my design notebook, buried under so much crap in a closet that it took me a week to find it, felt hard and tiring.  i find myself consumed with thoughts of all the things that might have died off this winter (even though it has been, on average, 20* warmer than usual) and how stupid and wasteful it will feel when i can finally take an inventory in another 6 weeks.  i look at the pots of things i tried to overwinter outside and feel like a failure.

on the other hand, i look at my winter-sown pots, all lined up and labeled and covered with reemay, and my fractional shopping list, and i feel like that is progress, that i am doing something right.

i think this year needs to be about cleanup and maintenance and structure.  it is time to spend money on things that the garden needs:  fences and walls and pathways.  mulch, mulch, mulch.  build beds and edge the ones that already exist.  clean up the pond and the stream bed so they are assets and not eyesores!

(now i am tired again.)


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