The Shivers

We're going on day eight now of significantly cold weather in the Northeast. As much as we ("we"=everyone ever) complain about the cold, as much as we ("we"=Camille) have already specifically complained about a day that we were woefully unprepared for (no hat, no gloves, lots of whining), we're all glad that it's finally here.

The first inch and a half of snow of the year drove the birds to our feeder. In two days, they've gone through nearly a third of the birdseed. I spotted another cardinal yesterday morning, which gave me a little boost as I headed on out to work. That's just the second time we've had a cardinal at the feeder in over two months.

Our amaryllis has begun to unfurl, which makes us both happy. I'm not sure I've ever seen a plant of such girth and height grow at such a dramatic pace. It's been less than a month since the plant was just a bulb, and now it's ready to burst.


We've got some other goodies that Camille planted that have begun to make their way in the world as well. They're bulbs of some sort, though I'm not entirely certain what variety. I don't think Camille is either, so this should be a pleasant surprise.

Lasts and Firsts

It seems crazy that I was able to plant (in the ground) over 25 bulbs (daffodils, tulips, and something whose name I can't remember) on January 13th. The snow is supposed to arrive tomorrow, but for weeks the weather has been record-setting high in temperature. I was happy for it, because my long-delayed plan to cover the garlic and flower beds with straw is finally complete. (And none too soon, as the other bulbs (planted in October/November) are now one inch high!)

My friend Thomas from Switzerland (shown here walking with me in the gorgeous forest of his country) sent us a photo today of their first rose this year, which makes us all wonder if this unwintery weather is part of larger trend in climate change. Are we doomsdayers? We probably all need a good old-fashioned Farmer's Almanac Weather Cycle History to calm us down.

I am not a scientist, so I don't know whether to read into this mild winter something portentous for the summer. Some people fear a wickedly hot summer, based on current trends, and I wouldn't look forward to the humidity; but the wet and cold summers we've had in the past two years are harder to deal with from a gardening perspective. I can, after all, offer more water to my plants, but I can't use the shop-vac on them when it rains. And my grow lamps couldn't manage adult plants (nor do we have enough of them for all the flowers and vegetables we're planning).

So bring on the sun -- when it's time. Right now, though, some snow would be welcome.

--Camille

Tinsel Town

David has decided we should film a video and get some help from a HGTV program to make over our garden -- build raised beds and do landscaping. Great idea, but what angle should we take for the movie? Goofy couple? cute and sweet? nerdy? chatty or reserved? newlyweds (awwww)? new gardeners or oldish hands? Who knows what they want? I think we fall right into their demographic.

I'd also like some show to redo our walk-in closet for a future kid, but that's because I am a cheapskate. Better get on making the kid, too.

We still have leaves to rake in our yard. Supposedly, they will ruin the law. Ugh. It's miserable work, something that we both agreed we'd be fine paying someone else to do. I don't think I'd mind the mowing, once we get a mower. But the raking is boring and hurts my hands.

Harumph.

In happier news, the birds are really eating seed from the back porch. We have identified four different birds and noticed another species besides. A pair of doves are in the yard, but don't seem to want seed. I hope we get some vividly colored birds, especially cardinals. Sawyer and Finley stand watch and chitter-chatter at the window. Today Sawyer got out and hid behind the barrel that used to harbor lettuce. He made one swipe at an unsuspecting tufted titmouse. That little guy had no idea how close he was. I dragged Sawyer in, and he fussed at me for 30 minutes. I am obviously interfering with his ferocity.

Who loves fires in the fireplace? I do!

--Camille