Throughout November, and now December, rainfall has been keeping my corner of the world very soggy. As soon as it let's up-wham-back to carting umbrellas! I could understand if it was April, but not now. Where are all the lovely snowflakes? There is still too much work to be finished at the plot. So, we wait and wait and wait for a "good" day. Ah well, weather is as weather does, no use fretting what cannot be controlled.
The dining room table is covered with seed catalogs and planning sheets. Whittling down to what is necessary, for this season at least, is proving to be prickly. Some stuff, like artichokes, have been on the "someday" list entirely too long. Waaaah! But they take up soooo much space! How can I justify growing glorified thistles??? How about those blackberries? Heirloom apples? Coveting is frowned upon. Seed catalogs incite a lust of the eyes, and most certainly a lust of the flesh, (that is vegetative flesh). Hopefully tomorrow will be dry. Rosemary and fig cuttings are in the tunnel. I am anxious to check on the temp and humidity level. The min-max thermometer cracked, so a side trip to Tractor Supply is on my "to do". That's alright as I have a bunch of errands to run up along route 10.
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