My kitchen looks like a jungle thanks to my wishful spring purchases. My preemptive strike at gardening was a result of some miscommunication and misinterpretation of weather patterns. Spring is a shifty character, beautiful, but cannot be trusted, especially with plants.
Don’t trust that those fat red tulips won’t seek to deceive even the most cunning of gardeners. Though most bulbs might be able to survive the frost, those temperate climate tomatoes won’t. I had my suspicions and with a little help from my source (Mr. Weather Channel 005), I was able to spare the lives of 2 Geraniums, 2 tomato plants, 3 ranunculus, and a fichus, the last of which is to be a permanent house guest.
I will continue undaunted in my fight for the return of a more stable and honest Spring. In fact, as an act of faith in the season’s ability to repent of its lack of commitment to warmth and sun tans, I will continue to play in the dirt. Though I might only invest my energy into the pulling of weeds, it will at least prove that I’m serious while I endure the snow and rain and continue to wait for the return of warmer weather. If a sacrifice is required, I might be willing to throw one of my geraniums onto the trampoline which at the moment is performing the role of a mighty ice alter.