I’ve never been that excited about seed catalogs. My grandmother, who has been a flower gardener pretty much all her life, spends hours looking through them. Even though she only had a very small garden her last years in her house, she always ordered something new and exciting from a seed catalog in the early spring. At one point when I lived with, her I got to join in the excitement when the little boxes came. But for some reason, when I happened to get a bulb catalog in the mail, I glanced at it and threw it away. Not this year!

Maybe it’s because Nan Chase wrote such a great article about seed catalogs for our February issue. If you haven’t read it, or don’t subscribe, find yourself a copy and read that article. She did a great job of showing just how valuable these published works of art can be, not only for getting some pretty cheap seeds but also for learning a little about how to care for your plants as well as the history and culture of the things that make up our garden.

But I also think it’s just the fact that I’m settled into a more permanent place than I ever was during my young adult years, couple with the fact that last year I had my first “real” vegetable garden.

So when the Gurney’s catalog came offering $25 off your total, even if you order less than $25 (meaning your order is free!) I thought, “I just might take them up on that.”

Then the Comstock catalog came, and I spent my Sunday morning looking through that one, dreaming about big, pink tomatoes and a rainbow of zinnias this summer. I dog-eared quite a few pages in that catalog too.

Gardening may be a lot about tradition and doing the same things over and over again, like pulling weeds, watering plants and digging up the soil each spring. But it’s also about trying something new. Last summer my “new” was planting a vegetable garden and trying my hand at freezing some of my harvest. This fall I planted something completely new to me – a few freesia bulbs. And this winter I’m trying something else new, I’m ordering some things from the seed catalogs.

Stay tuned to this blog, you’ll be the first to see how the new venture works out!

There have been many years when I've seen forsythia blooming in early February or even late January. But the beginning of December? Yes, I saw forsythia blooming just around the corner from my house. Not a lot of bloms, but it's sprinkled throughout the bush. That didn't bother me too bad until I came home one day and saw the site pictured on the left.

It might be hard to tell from the picture, but this is a picture of the beginnings of freesia peeking up from the ground. I fell in love with the flowers when I studied in England during college, and saw the bulbs at Lowes this fall. I've never grown it, and in fact never known anyone who grew it. But the bulbs were so tempting that I bought a pack to experiment with. I planted them in October, and didn't think about them again. Until I came home the other day and saw them starting to sprout already. At first I panicked. What will happen? Sure, it's been a rather mild winter so far, but I know we're in for some cold days before spring arrives. Will those little shoots completely freeze? Will it mean I won't have any freesia flowers to cut next spring like I'd dreamed of? Will it harm the bulbs for good, or only just for this year, if it harms them at all?

I worried a lot about it. But only for a few minutes. Then I remembered the resiliancy of plants and many things in nature. Sure, we've had some rather frigid winters the past two years, with lots of snow days for the kids and daffodils actually waiting to come up and bloom until March. But it's not always that way. The first three years we lived in Elkin we didn't even see snow. And sometimes there's a warm spell in February that entices all of the Bradford pears to bloom, only to be struck by cold one more time. Yet they somehow survive to bloom again the next year. So I've decided to just enjoy the mild winter. It's afforded me the opportunity to play outside with the kids and the dog more than usual for this time of year. And if it means I have to wait another year for freesia, so be it.

Yesterday I pulled up all of the dried-out marigold plants from the border of my vegetable garden. As I did it, millions upon millions of seeds and seedpods fell into the upturned soil. And now I’m wondering, will I be cursed with marigolds next summer?

This spring, I planted two small seed packs around the edge of my garden, as a feeble attempt at keeping pests away. They were probably one of the best things that grew in my garden. They ended up being over a foot tall with tons of beautiful yellow and gold blooms, providing a sunny welcome from late June well into October. I also thought they did a great job keeping the pests away, but then last week my friend told me the pests just hadn’t found my garden yet, because it’s new.

I had decided a while back not to plant marigolds within the garden next year anyway. They just took up too much valuable real estate. I figured putting them along the edge, outside the border of the garden, might work just as well.

But now I’m wondering if I’ll have marigolds in the garden anyway, on the edges and probably invading into the middle of the garden space. Of course, I’ve never had much luck with anything reseeding itself, so maybe I’m worried for nothing. But with my luck, this would be the one time when I do get “volunteer” plants. The time I don’t want them!