Seeing Green

An auspicious start!

I love spring the very most. I used to be a bigger fan of winter, back when I had the time, energy and income that was mine alone, to ski. Back before I was hitched and had kids, I used to anticipate the first snow like nobody else. I had a policy of calling in sick to wherever I was supposed to be when the first snow fell and head up into the mountains, even if it was just to be by the snow. Now, I still enjoy winter but spring is what really does it for me.

I love walking around the yard and inspecting all the plants, seeing which ones didn't survive that week when it got down to -19 back in December and keeping my eye on the ones that have grown too big and will have to be divided. I have seen neighbors who have a drip line weaving in and out of all their plants and have thought of how efficient and easy that would be, but really, I love taking a close look at every single plant every day and so I will continue to lug around the hose and watering can.

Today I started our garden, planting spinach starts, potatoes (red and yukon gold), yellow onions, carrots and snap peas. I will have eggplant, corn and all kinds of squash seeds started in the house by the end of the weekend. I love pushing the shovel into the dirt and turning it over. I love the heat that wafts out when I open up a bag of compost. My kids think I'm weird when I smell handfuls of it--especially weird when I tell them that it came from the cows that we pass on the way to Grandma's house!

My housework and family's diets suffer when the weather is nice. I simply cannot make myself come indoors. I can always find one more thing to do, one more weed to pull and one more flower to dead head. I can't nag at my kids to put shoes on when they are outside because I always end up bare-footed in the dirt. I try to start out with shoes, or at least clogs, but they get in the way and I end up with feet dirtier than any six year-old. It's the same reason I can't wear gardening gloves. I feel like I have socks on in the bathtub. I can't feel the dirt, rocks and plants. (Today I heard Zane yell, "Who is bringing in dirt on their feet?" I pretended I didn't hear him and suddenly felt a little like my kids must when I yell about cracker crumbs on the kitchen floor)

I will never have a magazine cover-worthy landscape like Martha Stewart or be as folksy-cute as Mary Jane Butters, but I still love feeling like this little third of an acre has my fingerprints all over it.