The weather is getting balmy around here. Not very February-esque, really. More like April. And I am impatient to garden again.
Other people get seed catalogs; I have a bunch of packets leftover from previous years, so I don't get to lust over lists, so to speak. Instead, I have a box of seeds:
My eyes are not what they used to be, and the writing on the packages is small, so I've added numbers on the fronts of each seed package: eggplants, for example, are 8-10 weeks.
8-10 weeks from what? From May 15, the Lancaster PA last frost date. All the experts around here say I should wait for the right time to start my seeds indoors. The weather outside is saying, "grow grow grow!", but the calendar says there's a month to go. The action really starts mid March. That's when I'll pull out the tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants, and put them into soil, in my southern windows. Not until then. Not now. Darn.
But look. Outside, the weeds are thriving in the garden.
The compost is rotting in the bins.
All I'm planting right now is impatience. Tick tick tick . . .
Other people get seed catalogs; I have a bunch of packets leftover from previous years, so I don't get to lust over lists, so to speak. Instead, I have a box of seeds:
My eyes are not what they used to be, and the writing on the packages is small, so I've added numbers on the fronts of each seed package: eggplants, for example, are 8-10 weeks.
8-10 weeks from what? From May 15, the Lancaster PA last frost date. All the experts around here say I should wait for the right time to start my seeds indoors. The weather outside is saying, "grow grow grow!", but the calendar says there's a month to go. The action really starts mid March. That's when I'll pull out the tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants, and put them into soil, in my southern windows. Not until then. Not now. Darn.
But look. Outside, the weeds are thriving in the garden.
The compost is rotting in the bins.
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