There are occasional snowflakes floating by outside my window this morning. There are not so many as to count as actual precipitation, more like a random thought slowly escaping from the thick layer of clouds. It may be a chilly day, a mostly indoors kind of day, although Poncho and I will take a walk, a day for all kinds of preparations and explorations.
The plumbers arrived early to repair a venting issue in the studio bathroom; when they are done the studio will become a much more pleasant place to work. I hope to spend some time there this afternoon, either sewing or cataloging, perhaps a little of both.
In the meantime I am working on garden planning and various odd tasks. There has been a lot of running up and down the stairs, measuring garden beds, thinking about shrubs and flowers, thinking about vegetable crop rotation, puttering, pondering. At some point I despaired that my garden layout last year was more spur-of-the-moment than well-considered, making the planning process a bit more of a challenge. But it is a fun challenge. There has also been much playing with pencil, eraser, ruler, and colored pens. Making colorful garden plans may not be the most efficient method, but it certainly may be the most fun.
But even though today is gray and cold the garden is slowly revealing signs of growth. Yesterday, between playing with markers I was out weeding, planting bulbs, and generally puttering about, happy to have fingers in the soil. While planting tiny ipheion bulbs I found that the small Harvest Moon sedums I planted last summer, and which I had believed had all died, are starting to poke their heads above ground. A few have advanced a little further than others, but finding the little pink faces peeking out from the mulch while I scattered tiny bulbs was gratifying and encouraging. As to the bulbs, it seems I seriously under estimated the number of bulbs I would need. I planted 50 bulbs yesterday, covering only a third of the designated area, but then again, this may be an opportunity once I see what decides to return in 2021.
Tulip and daffodil bulbs have been poking their tender heads above ground for some time now, advancing and then pausing in wait for the next sunny day, but had not noticed much else in terms of winter or spring growth yet in the front or back yards. Yesterday however I walked through the east side yard and was charmed by the hellebores, who are bravely sending out buds even though the greenery itself looks worse for wear. The hellebores in the front yard may still be hunkered down, but in the east, the blooms are ready to burst forth.
No garden work today though. I am determined to finish the border on this, the first of the two alpaca/camel blankets that I am restoring. I absolutely adore the way this is turning out and I hope to have this finished, blocked and ready to use this month, which means that I need to finish knitting the border today.
I have to admit I needed all these things this week: signs of growth and blossoming and success, a reminder that whatever setbacks occur, we can always pick ourselves back up and move on. And now, I have some time before my first meeting of the day, so I can go curl up under a light warm blanket and finishing knitting.
