As winter slowly drips away and temps warm, I am easily distracted by thoughts of my garden. Daydreaming of that first bright warm day, usually in April, when I’ll throw on scrubby jeans, a sweatshirt, and my college cap and finally get my hands in the dirt. It isn’t glamorous, anyone would agree. The abundant blooms of June are much more gratifying. But after being stuck in my home all winter long I don’t mind that the only things to greet me are stalks of picked over coneflower and the bobbing seed heads of last season’s penstemon.
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