I cry often in my garden — always from joy, amazement, a sense of abundance so strong that I need to spill over.

The hard gardening of cutting back and composting brings me a sense of relief and freedom.

We’re almost ready to build a greenhouse. D is doing seedlings in our enclosed porch room this year, and he built low row covers this year. New experiments for us.

Your writing is as beautiful as ever, El.

Oh Dee that’s lovely! Yeah I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder with these hoophouse/greenhouse things, but you hit it on the money when you said how you felt when you simply opened the door. And yes, thanks for reminding me I need to plant some flower seeds too! It’s all good. Thanks for the tip about dahlias too; I should try that…

Thank you Compostings! what a dear…

Yes indeed Valerie growing things year-round can get to be kind of addictive…and even if you are renting all this coldframe or hoophouse stuff is pretty dang portable. My theory is life is short so don’t put off vegetative enjoyment!!

Randi, you are such a sweetheart. But I hear you: I think the message needs to be simple in order for people to really glom on to it, in this particular instance Get a Greenhouse: You Will Cry with Happiness.

Hi Jen! No heat here. Just what’s called “double coverage” during the coldest months: the plastic of the cover and the floating row covers (very lightweight agricultural fabric) that blanket the beds. I just plant things that take the cold, too.

Thanks, Deborah. I am telling you I was a bit surprised by the waterworks, though, and had to share, figuring there was a broader lesson there somewhere…

Hi Christy, well, it’s good to know I am not alone! And I appreciate the hopefulness too found in the greenery. Hope and potential: I would say that wraps up the gardener’s expectation of spring, right?

Sylvie, good, I look forward to the low-tunnel post. I think what IS great about blogging is we do tend to spread good ideas around. (I love that!) But yes I do likewise agree with the “grander scheme” idea: food is important!

Ooh, Milkweed, don’t you hate the talking-about-the-garden tears? Happens to me a lot and I swear I have to kind of back up and confirm that either I am always an emotional wreck OR that I am just emotional today…unless, of course, I am talking to a fellow gardener. Maybe we need to kind of spread this around, like you said: like gardening is a secret drug. Seriously. What harm could come from a nation of gardeners?

Mrs Chiot, I know: isn’t it fun? Being able to do something so simple as grow what you eat?

Angie, thanks! And sure, awesomeness is a word.

Nat, yes, thank you for underscoring that it ain’t just veggies that can be emotional triggers. My front-yard city garden was a weep factory for me too, especially considering what it had been before I got ahold of it (the house too, come to think of it). There’s lots to be gotten out of turning over some sod.

Jules! Absolutely!

Linda, it is nice to wake up and just be happy that you are where you want to be, isn’t it? Maybe if more people gardened, they would be happier with their situation in life!

Steve, yes, we do the straw trick too (along with turnips, rutabagas, kohlrabi and some parsnips). I am of the theory you can’t have too many carrots. We tend to eat the outdoor ones first before the ground gets too frozen around them. I did, however, find a few that had made it through the winter just fine, which surprised me!

MC, yeah, I wonder often if we’d feel the same way if we had been doing this all our lives; if we’d become inured to the beauty and wonderment of it all. I kind of don’t think so.

OG, I am telling you, there is a lot of benefit to growing green things, and it isn’t all in the reduced grocery bill.

Eliz, exactly. And we’re in the same zone of lots of snow, long-winter nonsense as you; I am just so glad to make winter just a couple of months shorter for myself.

Ed, great! It is always so fun when things start popping up again, isn’t it?

I understand, girl friend, I do!

Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com