It's January . . .Let's Garden

I absolutely love the cold weather . . . . almost as much as the growing seasons. I can sit by the fire, hot cocoa in hand, perusing the gardening catalogs and dreaming of gardens abloom this summer. Do dreams come true? 

I have a couple of garden journals that I kept during last year. The first is just a note pad I made that I take into the garden for sketches and notes.  The second is one I got from Gooseberry Patch which includes helpful garden hints, whimsical garden plans, lots of handy pockets for seed packets and recipes fresh from the garden. 

The last is my favorite - Ladies in the Garden. It is a month to month growing guide for the organic garden. It is even signed by the author! The journals remind me of what works well and what needs to go. 

Holly contemplates the location of the iris

Now with leaves gone, I can see the “bare bones” of the garden.  So I make big plans. Sometimes, my plans are bigger than my back can handle.

I am wondering if my idea of a garden needs to change. Gardens aren’t all about color but also about texture, movement, light and dark. I am thinking of scoping out places for a fern dell and shade garden. Maybe a bog or rain garden. . .that is IF we ever get any rain in the spring and summer.

I have already planted the onions, broccoli and cabbage. Potatoes can go in next this month as well as transplants of cilantro and dill. My Bright Lights Swiss Chard adds wonderful color to a dismal area and is good to eat too!

Now is the time I must inventory the garden tools. It is time to sharpen garden shovels and hoes. All garden implements need to be checked to see if all are in working order, sharp and well-oiled. Do I need new gloves, hoses and loppers? Does the wheelbarrow tire need air?

So much to do and so little time. I must finish perusing the catalogs; order plants, check implements, plan the garden, dream of butterflies all the while singing, “Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more? Will you still need me; will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?” The Beatles, 1967.

Well I guess I should get off my duff, put the hot cocoa aside and get to work.