Winter Garden

               

There is something special about seed catalogues. Somehow, even when you have only just gotten the garden off (meaning everything out that was in it, and neatly squirrelled away down cellar in jars and crates,) for the year a very few weeks before, no matter how tired of it you were at the time, they call you in to dream of yet another. (Garden, that is.)

Or at least, that is what they do to me. And thence sprung a scribble of sorts, which you shall find comfortably planted directly below :) (Pun somewhat intended.) It makes a delightfully fun sort of a first-spontaneous-post-I've-done-in-positively-ages thing, and if you enjoy reading it half as much as I did scribbling it out, we shall have a happy day of it :)
And without further ado and hoping there are not too many tragic spelling mustakes (like that one. Fear not, it is there on purpose, I CAN spell Mistake properly when I want to :P And also Mustakes sounds so frightfully Pippi Longstockings I had to keep it in.) sprinkled throughout... Voila, you see before you said scribble!

                   

To grow a garden in February. (In places where the groundhog stays in its burrow rather than risk freezing its nose and catching a cold on the second of the same month.

Now, the very first thing you need to do is acquire a seed catalogue. This is not optional, you really must have one. (Preferably paper, but in great and dire straits, you may resort to a digital one. But only if there is no other alternative.)

And once you have this in hand, you must set, furthermore, set about collecting a nice cup of tea, a pencil, and a sunny place with a comfortable chair in which to while away the hours. These things are not terrifically difficult, and once accomplished, you are ready to start gardening.

Into the vegetable section you dive, carefully weighing the pros and cons of different varieties of tomatoes, and considering thoughtfully whether this would be a good year to try growing asparagus. Down on the list the garlic goes, marked "indispensable, must have at all costs. Haggle if necessary." 

By now you have come very near to the edge of the Domain Of The Veggies, (having added to your little stash an assortment of peas, carrots, and green and yellow beans,) and upon turning the page, you trip and tumble Alice-like in among the flowers. All kinds of flowers. Roses, peonies and lilies mixing in glorious profusion with columbine and sweet williams, and keeping company with both wild flowers and petunias.

You hardly know which way to turn or which flower to pick first, and your pencil scratches furiously over the pad of paper, (Oh yes, I forgot to say you needed a pad of paper to go with your pencil. Well, now you know!) hardly able to keep up with itself.

A sharp thorn on the climbing roses brings you back down to earth, however, and you settle happily down to the business of filling every available bed in your dream garden with the things that will find it pleasant to live in them. It isn't necessary to stick to the size or shape of your Summer Garden when doing this, of course, and being unhindered by reality gives new life to your pencil as you sketch out the beds.

You train roses and morning glories up trellises and over arches, and border the garden with lilacs and a neat little white picket fence all around it. A friendly little path of stepping stones meets the gate where it begins, a bench sunning itself invitingly a little way down it before it goes on to meet the little orchard. And oh, the orchard... You go off into ecstasies as you spin it, being slightly kept down by the price tags neatly attached to each tree, but really, it will pay for itself many times over before it is a decade old, and you tell yourself this very convincingly as you carefully add pears, plums, and hazelnuts to the conventions of a purely apple-and-cherry-ish orchard.

It's all so lovely that it is a reluctant Dream Gardener who pulls herself away at last, a regretful eye on the clock, and sets the potatoes to boiling for supper.

This reminds you that you haven't added any potatoes to your garden yet, and you hastily jot down two or three of the most promising varieties. One early type, for fresh potatoes in the summertime, and two or so excellent keepers for the winter months. Winter squash sprawls merrily along one end of the potato patch, and all in all, things have been put right and made pleasant.

Sighing happily, you put down your pencil, and slowly begin laying the table, your dream garden being weeded and watered all the time within the fertile reaches of your imagination.

It really is a delightful little place, and the beauty of it is helped along by the fact that you can visit it at any time you so desire. 

You need only direct your imagination-scope into the nearest seed catalogue.