Let me start with getting one thing off my chest. The daffodils are still unplanted. There, that was easy.
The weather was beautiful last weekend so we decorated for Christmas, we hung a ridiculous number of lights, and we (and I’m leaning more towards the less plural I on this one) cleaned up most of the basement of all the nonsense and clutter that kids can accumulate. Then in the midst of a pandemic we drove to Longwood to enjoy the Christmas display. Of course there will be judgements on safety but for now we’re all still healthy and it’s the weather which has taken a turn towards the worse. On a miserable afternoon I’d rather rush out and capture a few last joys of the 2020 garden season rather than actually do something productive. Maybe tomorrow will be different…
I’m excited to see my only fall blooming camellia opening up a few flowers before it gets too cold. It’s one thing enjoying them for a few hours in another garden, but to have one of your own to really drown in for as long as you want… and then to make excuses to go out and see every few hours… well that’s a whole different story. Currently the plan has ‘Ashton’s Supreme’ spending the coldest months in the winter garden, staying potted, and then some day moving to the open garden when either (1)he gets too big or (2)global warming shifts me just one more zone South. Obviously there’s also a good chance that (3)the gardener kills Ashton, but for just $30 from Camellia Forest Nursery I’m already thrilled with how far I’ve come.
I’m also somewhat thrilled over how the bog garden’s pitcher plants have recovered from some questionable overwinering techniques from last year. Someone just picked up an old saucepan from the sandbox, lifted the pitchers from the bog and put them in the pan, and then placed the whole embarrassment next to the compost pile under a few sheltering branches. They lived, but this year I’m not sure if I shouldn’t try something different. Or just do nothing. Nothing is pretty easy, and it’s been working for the daffodils so far.
Last year seemed much more full of November projects and plenty which bridged over into December, but this year I’m quite fine with calling a time, nailing a lid on 2020, and announcing the start of the 2021 gardening season. Hello snowdrops is what I’m going to say next, and of course I’m excited!
Mani over at the Miserable Gardener has observed that the guy he lives with takes an inordinate amount of pleasure in rattling off the name of this first snowdrop of my new year. I’ve begun to enjoy it now as well, and although I may still need to tweek quotes and capitalizations to be completely proper I’m not going to let ignorance stand in my way. Ignorance seems to be very ‘in’ these days so I might as well call it what I want, right? -who am I kidding… I can’t stand ignorance, so please correct me if you can.
Let me close by saying this last photo has me most excited. I keep thinking this snowdrop phase will pass but as of yet not luck. Once in the summer of 2019 there was a point when I almost said I wasn’t thinking about snowdrops, and then just a few months ago I turned down the offer of a bulb or two because “I had too many other plants needing attention”, but now I’m back to obsessed. ‘Three Ships’ looks healthier than ever and honestly for a flower which blooms here in January, anything better than dead is quite an achievement in my opinion.
Let the season begin!