For days and days there has been high dense fog and cold temperatures by us. The great outdoors is bone chilling and damp. I went out into the back yard to do pooper scooper duty and realized by the volume of ... well you know, that I hadn't been out there in way too long.
I looked around while busy with my rake and scooper and realized that I have become estranged from my own garden. My usual intimate knowledge of what is going on out there is now only a thing of memory. But in my defense, it's hard to bond with sights like this:
[album 65561 Dead Cold1.jpg]
or this:
[album 65561 Dead Cold2.jpg]
Granted, there are a few oranges on the tree that will be eaten soon, and the stand of crimson clover that has gone dormant is still green. And in all fairness there are a few wayward lettuce plants trying to show that they have the courage of lions in winter that are slowly growing in one abandoned raised bed.
But most everything else is just in stone cold hibernation mode.
In contrast to all this gloom, my reading table indoors is loaded with seed catalogs. In THOSE pages it's always high summer and every plant has either flowers or ripe vegetables and fruits all over them. I must admit to being a bit cynical about hopes for the garden this year. I'm cranky with my dogs for damage they did one day in a few short hours to plants that I nurtured all summer. I'm considering new forms of dog constraints for the back yard. Barbed wire and electricity? Motes? Paying Fiona to keep them in line while I am off at the grocery store? Canine mind control? I'm not sure. But something needs to change back there. I'm giving it the deep winter think. I just KNOW I am smarter than those two dogs. I MUST be.
(Oh this is going to be a rude awakening.... I can see it coming.)