We are poised on the edge of the pit of despair (a.k.a. March). I know a lot of people choose to remove themselves from danger by visiting the tropics at this time of year. While I generally prefer to spend plane fare on plants I have to say that it’s probably a good idea, every few years anyway, to give yourself a real change of scene. Putting at least a good 1000 miles between yourself and your garden can only recharge and reinvigorate your interest in it. And there’s no better time than March because it’s the most diabolical month – generally too awful to be outside and with cabin fever inside reaching critical levels, March always feels like it’s about 365 days longer than it is. Plus winter interest is only interesting for so long. (And I’m someone who loves tree bark.)

I do plan to put about 3000 miles between me and my garden (and Blithewold) later in the month but in the 102 days between now and then I need to focus on finding a few things that might keep me from falling down the rabbit hole. Sweet peas is one. Sweet peas equal spring and really all I have to do to maintain my equanimity is look forward to a sweetly scented June. We sowed 18 varieties yesterday. We went ahead and used the cow pots after trying a little soak test. The pots, even dry, pull apart more easily than peat and much more easily than coir. The one we have in soaking has definitely softened and we figure that we’ll just remove the pots when we plant like we used to with the peat pots. Sweet pea roots don’t like to be disturbed but we disturbed them for years with no ill effects.

Projects are another thing that can keep me from brooding so it’s a good thing that we still have gardens to design. I did preliminary sketches for a couple of the beds a month ago but now that the seeds and plants have been ordered, we can draw out some plans and plug our final wish list in.  It’s all about looking forward. And I’m still catching up on book, magazine and blog reading and am so grateful for that kind of escape right now. I’m all for being in the moment – you know me – but sometimes, like when it’s raining (snowing, sleeting, hailing, squishing) it’s more inspiring to spend the moment in a whole other time or place at least mentally.

Another project on my plate is putting me back in the moment the same way writing the blog does and hopefully will be the same kind of medicine. My first article as the new garden columnist for East Bay Newspapers was printed this week.

What will you do you do to stay sane through March?

Every year Gail and I take it upon ourselves to try a few new tools. We want to stay on the cutting edge, so to speak, of what’s handy, so to speak. We have not been offered any free trials, alas – we buy only what we think looks useful. So what follows are a couple of unsolicited reviews and previews of products that maybe you have considered trying too. (Deliberately linkless because this is currently a no-ad blog.)

The super slim lightweight hose from Gardeners Supply truly weighs next to nothing. I love that about it. What I don’t love, and what they don’t tell you, is that its tiny slimness doesn’t provide enough pressure to support a full size watering wand – we use it only with a smaller wonder waterer. It is also super kinktastic. Plus if you don’t take the time to wind the diabolical thing up exactly the way it wants to wind, it becomes a tripping snake monster. Is there no perfect hose?

Last year we purchased coir (rhymes with foyer) pots for our seedlings because they are made of coconut fiber, a renewable resource more sustainable than peat. We were also sold on them because they are supposed to break down faster than peat making it possible to actually plant them. Too good to be true? You bet. They do not break down quickly. We had a suspicion so not every plant was planted in the pot – only the ones whose roots were already tangled in the fibers. And those plants did not thrive probably because they were strangled by pots that could probably survive an apocalypse. On the upside, we will be reusing the sturdiest ones.

This year we’re trying cow pots but because they’re much more expensive, we only purchased enough for our sweet peas. Cow pots are made from composted cow manure – a genius use for a truly unlimited resource – and are also supposed to break down quickly and be plant-able. I’ll keep you posted. We also bought a soil block maker – if we can get our soil mix right, we’ll just go pot-less.

Last year we also purchased half a pallet of coir bricks for mixing our own potting soil and that we love especially because it’s re-wettable. (Peat is so not.)

I already know we’re going to like the tub trugs because I have one at home and I’m not sure what I carried everything-under-the-sun in before I owned it.

The ho-mi digger (Korean hand plow) is new to us but has been used by other gardeners for something like 5000 years. Anything that has stood that kind of test of time must be a pretty perfect tool.

Everybody raves about the Cobrahead weeder so we bought a few last year for our volunteers to try. They haven’t taken to it yet. But most of them are fiercely loyal to an old broken-down batch of Cape Cod weeders that aren’t being manufactured anymore. And I don’t use it because I carry a hori-hori – my favorite garden tool ever – in my back pocket.

Have you used any of these things? What do you think of them? Do you have any suggestions for other tools we should try?

I have always gone to nurseries armed with a carefully researched wish list but seem to have trouble sticking to it. Nursery owners have it figured out and I know I’m not the only person who absolutely can’t resist the perfect whatever-it-might-be in full glorious bloom. Whatever I went to the nursery for in the first place is inevitably simply leafy and sort of sad in comparison and I can never remember why I even wanted it.

Well, I remember now: if only I had a witch hazel to look at from my kitchen window, or a Japanese giant pussy willow. I wouldn’t be nearly so impatient for February to end. I’m glad we’re able to stick to our guns here and plant the things that fill out the year – if only to remind me to be a little less impulsive.

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Diane’ can reach about 12′ tall and wide and I didn’t detect any fragrance – but it is a cold and windy day… It started opening around Valentine’s Day and by the looks of some of the buds, it will go on for a bit longer. I know I’ve already gone on and on in previous posts about the Tim Burton-esque flowers and clearly I can’t stop taking their picture either.

You might be sick of me raving about Salix chaenomeloides ‘Mt. Aso’ too but if it wasn’t for a comment on my last post, I’d have forgotten all about it this year. That wouldn’t happen if it lived in my garden. Ours is already about 8′ around and 4′ or so tall. In my garden I would have to coppice it (willows are perfect candidates for cutting back hard) – and probably still give it more space than I have.

Have you talked yourself out of either of these – or any other winter bloomer – by the time you’re planting in the spring?

I didn’t think that I’d do a bloom day post this month. I’m a day late and there’s another slushy winter storm-let blowing around outside. But then I walked into the greenhouse, which smells so heavenly that there was no way I could ignore the blooms. I walked in and thought, “I could do a whole post on Kalanchoes.” (Even though they’re not fragrant.) They’re just starting to open and it would be good for me to do a little research again to figure out just what we have. (There are only about a gajillion of these things and probably half of them, including these have been given a new name by now. – There’s another post topic…) I took a guess on their names from a quick peruse of the b&w photos in our enormous, moldy, vintage copy of Exotica 3: Pictorial Cyclopedia of Exotic Plants by A.B. Graf. Please let me know if my guesses are wrong – or if they might have been right in 1963.

And then I walked around the corner and thought, “I could do a whole post on Sweet olive.” I’d like to figure out why ours always looks so beat. I know Osmanthus fragrans don’t love to be fertilized, so we haven’t tormented it that way in a while. But I think it looked better last winter when I really made an effort to let it dry out between watering. Apparently this year I had trouble shifting gears for proper winter culture… Regardless of how it looks, it smells divine and sometimes (right now) that’s really the most important thing.

What really deserves its own post is the Gunnera tinctoria. I guess none of the horror-show growth on this thing is a flower so it hardly counts for bloom day. Whatever, right? New leaves are just starting to emerge and they have such a bizzaro look to them that I’m just as captivated as if it had me pinned on its spikes. I’m not sure what the swirly whirl of pinkish tinged … tentacles are. Leaves? Bracts? And what is the red… oozing … finger-like thing?? Is it a root or rhyzome in search of soil? I know it’s not a flower part because my books say the flowers are born on tall panicles (can’t wait for that!) It’s probably a good thing that gunnera isn’t hardy here or I’d be tempted to tear down my house to make room for one in my garden. (What use is a house to a gardener anyway?) Does anyone grow this plant or can any of you shed some light on the meaning of these parts?

Thanks, as always to Carol from May Dreams Gardens for hosting Garden Bloggers Bloom Day every month on the 15th. Click on the link for a look at what’s in bloom around the world. Since it’s the 16th, and the Gunnera is all about foliage, I’m going to cheat and join Foliage Follow-Up at Digging too. Thanks, Pam!

Everyone deserves something sparkly – or at least shiny – in time for Valentine’s Day. Wasn’t it nice of Mother Nature to give us her latest gift – a 14 karat white-gold with diamonds storm (known in my household as The Apocalblyzzard That Wasn’t). We only had a couple-four inches of snow here but it was heavy and wet and even after 2 days of sun, it is still clinging to tree trunks and sparkling like jewelry. (I took the pictures first thing on the morning after. Hover over for captions and click on for a closer look.)

And what’s Valentine’s Day (weekend) without a love story? I’m not sure what made me stop and turn my gaze way upwards but after a moment’s reverie I spotted our resident pair of hawks (we think they’re Red-tailed) gazing back down at me. Red-tailed hawks generally mate for life and our female should be laying a clutch of eggs in the next month or two. We have seen them circling around a bit lately screeching and that, according to the wikipedia entry, is foreplay. — On that note, I’ll just wish you all a Happy Valentine’s Day (weekend)!