February, the month I may regret not planting onions, garlic and shallots. If only for a few moments when I see my neighbours’ new shoots. I don’t think I’ve yet recovered from decay disappointment. My expectant hopes dashed like a childhood Christmas.
I still scan sites and adverts, though. I forward links to Howard with wistful question marks. To eloquent silence.
It is the same with potatoes. I can be a sucker for a seed-company email ad. But unearthing rotting spuds blighted my hopes for a few years yet.
So why do I still buy extravagant amounts of vegetable and flower seed? Why are there bags and boxes and bowls of seed scattered through the house? Some I know I may never grow. Of course, it helps support suppliers. And, anyway, there’ll likely be room to sow in Kala’s garden and the meadow. But still I shop. A packet here, a few packets there.
I am hoping I am not alone in this? Does anyone else have similar issues?
Over the next few weeks I will divide our seeds into flowers, leaves, fruits and roots. I will start to think about what we will sow where and when. Though recognising we’ve never much worked to plan.
I tend to stand on a spot and almost ask myself where the seeds might like to grow. Never too far from where we have sown them before. Just not in the exact same spot.
There are also bulging envelopes of saved seed at home: calendula, tagetes, nasturtium, amaranth, etc. Clutter as Henri sees it. Or hope and the promise of beauty and happiness as I tell myself.
Anyway, we will wait for another month or two. For longer days and brighter weather. For our soil to start to wake and warm. For spring to start to show. For more allotment neighbours to start to return. Because by then, it’s all systems sow.
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