Good things about snowstorms for gardeners
Gardeners who knew best just spent afternoons last week preparing garden beds for the snowstorm we just endured. After the first dose of snow, the garden looked like a postcard… pastoral, serene. After the second dose, it resembled a postcard of snow halfway up my boots. Not much to do in gardens which opens up so many tasks inside including, as you get started, the game of Where Did I Put My Cup of Coffee?
Once inside, there’s always rounding up the dust bunnies on the floor, but that can wait. I recently read a polemic entitled “Dust If You Must,” but that’s not happening either because it’s cold, so it’s time to build a fire. Scoop out last night’s ashes and empty them onto beds without worrying about embers starting the leaf mulch on fire because it’s covered in snow. Thank you, snow.
And since galoshes are in place, might as well gather a bucketful of kindling and firewood. My galoshes trudged with vigor to the greenhouse wherein firewood waits on deck before being transferred to the shelf on the deck. All of this requires wearing thick warm gloves that make some things more difficult like answering the phone, which reminds me of another game called Where Did I Leave the Phone?
Building a fire is art. I heard years ago three things every man thinks he does better than any other man are run a hotel, manage a baseball team and build a fire. My woodstove trusts me, it’s seen me in action for years, so I follow my own instinctive protocol. Times like these remind me why I enjoy browsing through woods to collect kindling and nexters. You build fires your way, I do it my way, and the pool of happiness glistens without ripples.
With a fire ablaze, it’s time for a new challenge. Isn’t that cute – the dust bunnies are playing flag football. However, there are plants I brought inside for the winter asking for attention. In late autumn, I scattered sweet pepper seeds directly from a pepper onto soil in a big blue pot, and some sprouted. Yippee! I transplanted a few into four-inch pots so I could garden them during winter and get a head start in the garden after winter. Gardeners are like that. Fearless.
In an effort to avoid maritime disasters on the living room floor, I take several plants at a time to the kitchen, park them in the sink and, as Eric Clapton once sang, let it rain. Floor is safe, plants are wet.
Which reminds me of another healthy activity during non-gardening days – music. If you’re a musician, play songs you haven’t thought of for years. Retune a guitar to a new tuning and learn the chords. If you have a drum, listen to the wind and play along. There is also reading, painting, scribbling, knitting and writing 650 words about what to do during snowstorms in January. And Chinese checkers…
And as you watered your plants by the windows, you would have noticed through the window activity around the bird feeder outside, which is a chance to play Count the Juncos. Remember – you’ve got time on your hands, and nature is calming if you let it. I put seed out daily. I’ve seen 19 juncos under the feeder at one time, and I hope they survive the storm.
But regarding gardening, I cooked beans (which I did not grow) over the weekend and seasoned them with dehydrated oregano, parsley, basil, lemon thyme, lambs quarters and garlic that did come from the garden. A bit of summertime during a winter storm. Tastiness and positive intent sitting in jars months later. Collecting your own herbs is easy, but that’s not why gardeners do it. Gardeners do it now because it matters later what we already did.
Did you know dust bunnies live forever, so there is time later to hire a housekeeper, and there are nine juncos scrambling for seeds under the feeder? It’s three degrees out there.