This past weekend I thought I would plant the beautiful annuals I bought at my favorite local nursery, O'Toole's. They had been soaking up the sun in their flimsy, plastic planter thingies since I had bought them... um, a week before. So, I gleefully embraced the warm weather we were having and got dirt under my fingernails. It was so cathartic. There's nothing like planting things!
So, the weather was ... sorry, I had to pry 2 Legos apart... amazing this past week. Nearly balmy. I came home everyday after work to inspect, water, and generally fuss over my pansies, petunias, and snapdragons. Then came Thursday. Is this some kind of seriously strange joke I don't get? Snow, lots of it. Falling by the sheets. I salvaged all that I could. Pansies are cold weather plants, right? Apparently not mine. My container gardens too many casualties. Looks like it's back to O'Toole's. It's a sacrifice but one I'm willing to make. ;)
So, my dear friend Shelby (a nearly native Coloradoan) tells me via email, "Oh yeah, there's an unwritten rule that you shouldn't plant anything until Mother's Day." Uh, huh. So do the folks at the nurseries just point and laugh at we new transplants as we deliriously leave, thinking "Sucker! We got another one of those newbies!" Oh, yeah, I'll show you! I won't be back again! Until next weekend, of course, when I'm again struck down by Spring Fever and feel the need to nurture something green.
No comments:
Post a Comment