Planting peas on the first day of spring.
For your consideration: My latest attempt at rooting lemongrass (a la You Grow Girl) hanging out with the only houseplant I have managed not to kill.
What does this have to do with hibernation? In my neck of the woods, it’s cold enough in the wintertime to hibernate. We had three feet of snow land on us a couple of Februaries ago. If it’s warm enough in late winter to have plants sprout early, you look at them cross-eyed because you know the frost is gonna get ‘em soon and you will not have any crocuses this year.
So what’s a gardener to do? Hibernate. Leaf through the seed catalogs and plan ridiculously intricate gardening plots for spring while curled up under a blanket with a cup of tea. Wait patiently (yeah right). Or attempt to bide your time indoors and save seeds, plant seedlings, and get a jump on spring when it finally gets here.
But I’m awful at gardening indoors. Every houseplant except one (the one above) has died a slow, painful death at my hand. I think the hardy jade plant above is still living only because the parent plant lives next door and checks on it every once in a while. My tomato seed saving attempts this fall went nowhere fast. And this is my second attempt at lemongrass-rooting because my first round failed spectacularly.
I can get away with looking like I know what I’m doing outside because I live in a place with sunshine and rain, good soil, and a moderate growing season. I can fake it outside, frankly. Not so much inside. So my hibernation lesson for this winter is one of patience, attempts at expanding my horizons, and overcoming frustration and failure. Hopefully, if I can get the lemongrass to root, I will be enthused enough to attempt to grow my own seedlings in the spring.
That’s pretty existential for gardening. But when you’re hibernating, what else is there to do?