I t’s such a nice time of the year to be a gardener. Everything is possible. Energy is unlimited. New gardens that live in our brains all make perfect sense, and everything grows just as it should, even if you are pushing it a zone or sticking a full sun plant in partial shade.
And what drives all these utopian dreams? Catalogs. Lots and lots of catalogs. And I say, bring ’em on, because dreaming about gardening is almost as fun as actually doing it (and in the case of weeding, much, much better).
The mailman is nice enough to bring me a new one a couple times a week, keeping me more than busy dreaming about the perfect garden that lives in my head, if not my yard.