Seedstorm

I love this time of year. No, not because of the snow, although I don’t generally mind snow. In fact, I love cross-country skiing and snowshoeing, so I welcome the big white drifts. But I’m not thinking of snow, or even snowshoes, as I write this. I’m thinking of the catalogs that fill our mailbox every day—and I’m smiling.

Honestly, most catalogs annoy me. I see them as a ridiculous waste of natural resources, at least when they’re sent to our address. Most never make it into the house. Instead, I stop at the recycling bin in the garage and drop them off before I bring any bills and personal correspondence inside.

But these catalogs, the ones that fill my mailbox now, are different. These catalogs aren’t annoyances. They are threads from which I’ll weave a year’s worth of productive dreams. They are the seed catalogs.

I love them all. Burpee, Park Seed Co., Thompson & Morgan, Seeds of Change, Territorial Seed Company, Harris Seeds—the list goes on and on. I love ‘em all. And Stark Brothers, the fruit tree people? Oh, their catalog nearly makes me weep with joy. And let’s not even begin to talk about Jackson & Perkins, the rose suppliers. I get shivers up my spine just thinking about that one.

The wind may howl and the snow may fly, but once I’m safely inside, my daily trek to the mailbox complete, it is spring, summer and even autumn at our house. I sit for hours, perusing the coveted catalogs. I weigh one variety of winter squash against another. I debate the merits of deep salmon versus light pink and magenta when I choose flowers. I even justify the need for four types of cucumbers, wondering whether or not a fifth variety might be called for as well.

With the seriousness of a judge I mull over my desire to try kale. What is kale, anyway? Do people actually eat it? And if they do, why haven’t I tried it yet? And if I grow it and don’t like it, what then? Where does one dispose of a glut of kale? Invariably there will be a bumper crop of the stuff if I don’t like it. That’s just the way it is with gardening. One year we had so many brussel sprouts we couldn’t give them away fast enough. And while I’m on the topic of the brussel sprout explosion, I may as well confess to my neighbors. I’m the one who left brussel sprouts on your doorstep. Yes, it was I. I, um, hope you enjoyed them. Really, I do.

I’m still choosing this year’s seeds. I’ve got to finalize my orders by next week if I’m going to receive the seeds in time to plant them in our greenhouse. I’m pretty much set on most of what we’ll grow this season but I’m still debating over a couple of items. When the list is firmed up I’ll let you know what we’ll be ordering. Until then, you’ve got your own garden catalogs to keep you busy, haven’t you?

What? Not a gardener? Why not? Black thumb? Oh, I don’t believe in that black thumb business. Anyone can garden. Anyone. All it takes is a little patience and a measure of commitment. If you’ve got those, you’re equipped to garden. And if you haven’t cultivated those traits a garden is a good place to find them.

Pardon? Oh, the kale? Well, to tell the truth, I’m still undecided about that one. Maybe tomorrow a new seed catalog will show up and I’ll be swayed one way or the other. Until then, I’m on the fence about kale. What about you? Any seed you’re not sure about? Maybe we gardeners can band together. You tell me kale stories and I’ll tell you my vegetable tales.

Eggplant. Now that’s a vegetable I could really begin to talk about… But that’s a story for another day, isn’t it?