Home Planet: What’s up with this bloomin’ weather?

I‘m rushing things, I know. But, I can’t help it. I’m impatient.

Spring took so long to get here, and can’t seem to make up its mind to settle in and bloom, so I’m losing interest. I’m ready to move on to summer.

Two weeks ago – weeks before the traditional “last frost” date – I walked up and down the aisles at the nursery and filled a big cart with plants. The woman who totaled my purchases bit her lip when I asked – after I’d handed her my credit card – if I was buying too soon.

“Well, it’s still a little early,” she said, torn between telling me I was making a big mistake and making the sale. “But you never know …”

She helped me load the flats of petunias, the vine that will bear white blossoms all summer long, the Foxgloves already carrying fat buds, the bleeding heart, and – the riskiest thing of all – a pot of sweet basil, into the back of my little car.

“Just put everything in a place that gets as much sun as possible for a week or so,” she said, pulling down the rear hatch. “We’ll still have cold nights, so you’ll want some protection.”

I drove away with a car full of tender green things.

I am what you might call a fair-weather gardener. I have friends who spend the winter sighing over garden catalogs. They nurse seedlings and hover over starts and clippings while the snow is still falling, counting the days to frost-free nights and hours of sunshine. They’re outdoors as soon as the ground gets soft enough to work.

Not me. I hedged my bets by planting the hardiest roses, the toughest lavender and dependable bulbs. Each spring I take a tour of my tiny lot, assessing the losses, shrugging over the dead as I clear away the debris. I replace what needs to be replaced and fill in the gaps with potted geraniums, baskets of cascading petunias and trailing greenery. I get it all done at the first sign of warm weather and settle back to enjoy the show.

Which is where we are now. Warm weather teases us but doesn’t settle in. After what felt like an endless winter, with snow on the ground later than usual, we’re all hungry for the sun. And anxious for things that bloom in the sun.

I want breakfast on the patio with swallows performing aerial acrobatics overhead. I want lingering twilights perfumed by the roses that climb the fence. I miss hummingbirds and butterflies. I’m hungry for tomato sandwiches.

But weather doesn’t answer to wishes. So, like a runner pushing forward to the front of the pack, I’m getting in position for the race. My plants are nestled against the south wall of my house, in a place that captures sunlight and stays warm enough to keep things from getting too cold at night.

I’m ready. They’re ready. All we need now is a little fair weather.