Rain Dances with Garden Gnomes

Temp 39

Wind 29 mph

Rain\Wind\Snow?????

Two Weeks Ago:

I heard the fearful whispering and name calling as I pushed my cart through the garden center. I'm used to this now, it no longer bothers me. Every year at this time on a Saturday morning like this one, I head to the garden center determined to plant something, anything. And a few days later the plant dies.....of frost bite. So you see the whispering comes from the plants. They know me and they call me Killer.

One Week Ago:

I arrived home from work to find Ripley's Believe It or Not and Guinness Book of World Records camped out in my front yard. It seems my new plants have survived their first week in the yard. I'm going to water them after the Larry King interview.

Today:
Today I'm dancing with the garden gnomes. We chased big sheets of plastic around the yard in the ancient dance of plant preservation. I have yet to master this ritual, but I continue to practice every year. It starts in late February when I'm overcome by the call of the dirt. The desire to plant something and see it grow is overwhelming. I imagine myself shaking off the confines of my house and walking barefoot through the grass, as flowers bloom and doves coo around me. The picture in my head is beautiful, but the reality is another story. The reality is me in David's old over-sized shoes worn to protect my feet from the errant winter surviving fire-ant and the ever present dog poop. I'm carrying whatever scraggly seedling Home Depot laughingly sold me to it's certain death. Even as I lovingly cover my newest victim with the richest garden soil money can buy, I hear Pee-Wee Herman in my head: "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Then as prophesied, the Oracle appears a week later. The Oracle speaks from the magic box in my home and his words are always the same.

A POWERFUL UPPER LEVEL STORM SYSTEM WILL MOVE ACROSS THE REGION AND RESULT IN WIDESPREAD SNOW...STRONG WINDS OF 20 TO 30 MPH WITH GUSTS TO 40 MPH ARE LIKELY

So to the screaming cries of my plants and the haunting laughter of Pee Wee, I dance....