the cruellest month.

An old literature teacher once put it thus; when your arm is numb, you don’t feel it. But when the blood flows again, and the pins and needles come, suddenly you know about it.

Spring really snuck up on me this year. I mulched hurriedly one free evening, between a rushed Lowe’s trip and baby drop-off. On the way home from work I realized “Oh no, it’s warm. I should have already planted and mulched.” So it was off to get some replacement herbs and the usual black-stained wood shavings and get back to the ranch. Continue reading