Once V-Day has passed I always feel like it's safe
to anticipate spring. Yesterday I checked my potted
herbs -- the chives were poking frail green feelers up
and the mints have just the tiniest leaves at the base
of each plant. The rosemary seems to have taken
a hit -- most of the plant is grey, with some residual
green. The sage still hunkers low, as does the thyme,
but the lavender is bold, sturdy and vigorous.
My scented geranium, which I neglected to bring in,
is history. Sigh. Indoors, the rest of the geraniums
are spindly and pale, but soon I'll begin their
half-strength vitamin regimen and move them to
a south-facing window. On the other side of the lake,
my Brandon Street garden is overgrown and neglected.
I'll go this week to prune roses and grapes, and will
put one of the offspring to work gathering up
the muck that winter has strewn about. I know the
snowdrops are up -- I saw them last week.
That's always a good sign.