Spring Equinox, Take Me Away!

I’m completely over winter right now. 

Believe me, I know that I’m hardly unique when it comes to that. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to bitch about it though. 

I’ve often said that if I could find a place where November and December are cold and snowy, with it all melting and returning to sunny and seventy degrees on New Year’s Day, I’d move there in an instant. Those months are tolerable because all in that Currier and Ives holiday inspired frame of mind. Yeah, it’s cold outside, but at least we have something to look forward to. Then all of that goes out the window on the first of January. It’s cold, it’s ugly, and all you have left to look forward to is spring, which is a good three to four months away.

We’ve been spoiled the past few years, with minimal snowfall and milder temperatures, which I’m sure contributes to making this winter seem more harsh than it really is. Or maybe it’s that I’m carrying less “personal insulation,” I’m another year older, or-

No, it’s fucking cold. 

As I write this, we’re eleven days deep into February which has the distinction of being the shortest month of the year while simultaneously feeling like the longest. It’s also the time when seed catalogs and ads for tree nurseries start showing up. For many, planning what we’ll do in the garden or around the yard is a good way to get through the next several weeks. It’s a distraction from the winter doldrums that doesn’t involve consuming mass quantities of alcohol which is both unhealthy and expensive. Sure, binge shopping for plants and supplies is expensive too, but has the advantage of not resulting in weight gain, cirrhosis, and weekly meetings. 

Those sneaky SOBs at the seed companies know full well what they’re doing, too. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of alternating between thumbing through a catalog and staring out the window, the gears turning as I picture where I could plant more of this or try growing that.

Just yesterday I ordered wildflower seed for our field, five pounds of it, as well as a quarter pound of Purple Conflower seed. A quarter pound!!! WTF am I going to do with a quarter pound of that?!? I also impulse bought a seed storage container, which is actually something that’s both kind of neat and practical for keeping seeds safe from mice. Besides, it beats the big pickle jar I’ve been jamming seed packets into until now. 

After that I started looking at other catalogs – more blueberry bushes, more grape vines, a couple more fruit tree. “I’LL PLANT THEM ALLLLL, MWAHAHAHA!!!” In my Vitamin D deprived hysteria, I was beginning to write checks my body, acerage and ambition wouldn’t be able, or want to, cash when the packages started showing up. So I did the best thing, the smart thing, and backed away from the computer. 

That said, there’s still a chance that, by the time you read this, I’ll have ordered a lemon or a lime tree.

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Some days, all you can do is sit in the recliner and watch TV. There’s one channel we love, Create-TV which airs all kinds of great PBS shows including This Old House along with a variety of cooking and gardening shows. With the exception of Who Do You Think You Are and Antiques Roadshow, which are both great by the way, PBS has resisted the draw towards producing a glut of reality TV shows like every other network. As a general rule, I hate reality television and avoid it. We all know that it’s completely scripted and yet it’s overtaken the airwaves, destroying beloved networks that were once both entertaining and educational. ( Yes, I’m looking disapprovingly at you, TLC. ) 

That said, a show that has caught my attention recently is Log Cabin Living on HGTV. It’s one of about a dozen similar shows found on television so you’re probably familiar with the concept. But just in case, here’s the plot: A couple are looking to buy a log cabin that offers rustic, rural living with stunning views, privacy, and every modern convenience known to mankind, all located less than ten minutes from town. She’s a schoolteacher, he conducts weekend seminars on perineum sunning ( Google that at your own risk ) and they have a budget of $500,000. 

Some real estate agent, displaying masochistic tendencies for a six percent commission, carts the two pioneer spirits around the hinterlands surrounding whatever resort town they have chosen to “get away from it all” to show them three cabins. 

I have yet to watch an episode with a couple that I don’t find completely insufferable five minutes into a half hour episode. The expectations these people have are simply beyond my comprehension. I shit you not, just the other night one of the husbands voiced a concern about a crack in a log beam. The agent, through either practiced skill or Botox, managed to keep a straight face as he explained that natural wood will do that and it was perfectly fine. 

The couples make their way through these homes that I would give my right both testicles to live in, announcing what they do and don’t like. The other night I wanted to reach through the screen and strangle one of them when they said they didn’t like the giant stone fireplace because it was wood burning, not gas.

And it doesn’t matter what the rest of these pinewood palaces look like, nearly every single one of these couples, if I’ve found them tolerable up til now, ruin all of my good will towards them when they get to the master bathroom. Some of these loos are big enough to hold a well attended barn dance in, with a bathtub the size of a small pond, and yet these couples almost always comment that it’s “kinda small”. 

“Well, this vanity has two sinks, which is good, but it’s only twelve feet long. I’m not so sure we’ll have enough room for all of my product and still have space for your toothbrush.” 

The other night while watching an episode I turned to Abby and said, “These people would faint if they saw the size of the ( one ) bathroom in this hovel.” For the record, it’s a little under forty two square feet – I just measured. Dear Lord, I don’t know how we’ve managed to survive all these years!

And what the hell is it with these couples that all of them express, at least once, concerns about having room for entertaining. Or where family and other guests will stay. I’ve got two words for ya folks: Holiday Inn.

At the end of the episode, the couple will meet in a local micro-brewery, pretend to sip from a single flight between the two of them, ( now I really hate them ) and reveal the home that they’d already made an offer on prior to film rolling. We’re shown a happy ending, with the couple, their Labrador Retriever, and 1.94 average American, trendy named kids, partaking in an activity in their well-manicured and landscaped yard. Annnnd scene.

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So yeah… that’s the kind of stuff that’s running through my head while I try not to go batshit crazy waiting for March 20th to get here. Although happily, the past couple days have brought somewhat warmer temperatures, so it’s been a balmy thirty degrees or so out there, perfect for getting started on pruning our fruit trees. It’s been a welcome way to get some fresh air and feel like I’m doing something productive.

And speaking of fruit trees, I haven’t ordered that lemon or lime tree just yet. I was advised, rather emphatically I might add, that I was not to order one as it is, or at least was, to be “a surprise” for my birthday in June.