A Wet Christmas

As soon as the Christmas tree comes down, I start thinking of gardening. It has been a few months since I’ve felt the gardening obsession – by September I am done with gardens and weeds and insistently growing things. But give me dreary cold, dark, and wet and I start dreaming of spring.

Under the tree for me this year was a fabulous cast iron trellis. It weighs more than I do and stands taller, when you consider the whingdings on top. I spent a morning putting it together and threading the “Dragon Lady” crossvine up into it. I moved her late last fall, and I hope she survived the transplant. If she did, it will be glorious.

And this is what winter is for me – build, putter, hope. It’s a little like Christmas itself – the real joy is in the anticipation.

Dragon Lady in her previous home

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