The first week after Christmas they start arriving here in the white-sky frigid Heaven of the world’s largest high Alpine valley just as they used to arrive at the homes of my mom, my Aunt Jo and my Aunt Dickie during the even shorter white-sky days of a Montana winter.
When mine arrived this year I thought to myself, “These companies are selling hope.”
My Aunt Jo started EVERYTHING in the house in February. She even grew geraniums from seeds. My Uncle Hank built her a pretty large greenhouse, but I think she liked best the baby plants in trays growing on top of the “entertainment console” by the big south window in the living room.
In the south window of her bedroom, my mom had a cactus garden that reminded her of the desert Southwest. Once in a while a cactus would bloom. Our favorite was her “old man” cactus, a spiky little guy covered with white “hair” in which I put a doll’s curler. 🙂
As for me… I have a mum blooming beside my rosemary in the front window. In the other window there is a begonia, a Christmas cactus and some geraniums I cut in summer to start again this year. One of them is blooming, too. My small potted geranium just finished blooming.
I don’t think they know it’s the black and white time when dark tree fingers scratch the bleak sky. They don’t know they’ve been pulled in with the people — person — to wait out the winter. For them it is spring.
The “bassinets” are out in the garage where it’s minus a million degrees right now. Last year I didn’t start any plants in the house, but this winter is bleak enough that I might just need to order a little hope to go with the thirty or so iris I got from a neighbor and the six I ordered from…a catalog.