Here it is, 1 December and here it is, the first snowfall. The local weather deities must have been watching their calendars.
It is quite pretty, the snow drifting down in large, fluffy flakes. What I don't much care for is the way that it's settling on my poor, empty garden.
A mere handful of months ago this plot yielded tomatoes of unrivalled deliciousness; bunches of sweet, sweet onions; the spiciest of red-hot chilies. And now all that's left is a sad clump of chives, the ever-present rambling thyme, and the strawberry plants bent on world- (or at least yard-) domination. I know that patience is a big part of gardening, but I can not wait for spring. The nice people at Veseys know this (and clearly have no shame,) which is probably why they sent me their new 2011 seed catalogue this week. Summer has never felt further away.
Still, I am enjoying the myriad delights of this time of year: staying inside with the snow falling outside accompanied by my knitting,
my new Pewabic mug in the perfect shade of William the Hippo faience-blue,
and Greg Thomey dressed as a gargoyle.