Snow finally fell in measurable amounts (about 9″) over the weekend forcing us to take life a little more slowly. I think that’s what I love best about a snow days: permission to slow down and tuck in. Luckily I didn’t have anywhere I needed to be as the snow fell and I hope you didn’t either.

I was really starting to feel the need for a break even if it’s mostly psychological. A blank canvas can be paralyzing but I wonder if that’s just our brain’s way of slowing down to clear its slate too. As much as I don’t love the feeling when I’m staring dumbly at an empty page, I think I have come to rely on looking out at a blanketed garden over the winter in order to reboot my garden mind and fill it up with fresh ideas.

Even though our roads are clear and everyone has picked up the pace again, this morning I cashed in on the novelty of the snow – and its abbreviated lifespan (melting already with rain on the way) and spent some time staring at it’s blanking blanket – and noticing how the canvas is framed.

Has your garden been tucked under a blanket yet? How about you? Does snow cover help you mentally make a fresh start?

Just in time for winter to finally look and feel more like a proper winter, Gail and I are sliding headfirst towards spring. We started the new year by looking through magazine back issues for inspiration. (Do you do that too? It’s as if I never saw them before – and in some cases I hadn’t. Who has time to read anything in May and June – or October for that matter?) And in the last couple of weeks we’ve moved along to seed catalogs. At first it seemed like there was nothing new and then suddenly everything old was new again and everything forgotten was remembered fondly and wanted desperately. The more we go through the catalogs making choices, the more our momentum and excitement builds, so much that it’s hard to know when to quit.

Same thing with taking cuttings – but then I always have a hard time not taking more than we need if there are more to take. I started whacking back the scented geraniums (Pelargonium, that is) yesterday and it’s a good thing we have a plan for these next year, because we’ll have plenty of plants now thanks to me being obsessive about sticking every possible cutting.

Pelargonium are so easy to root and now is a fine time if you haven’t cut yours back yet. Take the growing tips and prepare them by cutting below the second or third leaf node from the tip. Cut that leaf off right at the stem and then place the cutting end-out of a plastic bag for a day. They root more reliably if the wound has a chance to callous first. Once the cut looks dry and slightly crusted, dust or dip it in rooting hormone and stick in dampened perlite, vermiculite or sand – whatever you like to use for rooting. If the remaining leaves are large, cut them in half to reduce transpiration. Keep them out of direct sun and the  medium from drying out. A few weeks waiting should do the trick.

Are you sliding down a slippery slope to spring too? Are you ordering more seeds or taking more cuttings yet than you have room for?

Gardeners are reputed to be an optimistic group but I think we might just be stubborn. Most of us at least are prone to occasional – usually weather related – bouts of pessimism, gloom-and-doom opinion competitions, and worry. But no matter how dire we guess things will be, giving up is never an option. (And doesn’t the garden always surprise us by being beautiful beyond our wildest dreams?)

Never mind that wild temperature swings have caused the marginally hardy trumpet spur flower’s (Rabdosia longituba) pipes to burst. We should have left the stalks standing as protection… and I’m mentally preparing myself to replace the plants if they die. An unusually warm December caused the quince’s (Chaenomeles speciosa ‘Contorta’) flower buds to swell and open just in time to be blasted by an arctic freeze. The buds on Cornus mas are perilously fat too and it looks like the acorn-deprived squirrels have eaten most of the tulips. Will spring still be lovely? (After Tropical Storm Irene blew the color out of the leaves last August, I worried that we’d have a lousy fall. It wasn’t lousy by a long shot.)

In any case there’s absolutely nothing we can do but wait and see and enjoy what we have in the meantime. In honor of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (yesterday) hosted as always by Carol at May Dreams Gardens, here are a few indoor distractions. Who cares what it’s doing outside when the sweet olive is scenting the whole house? Our Brugmansia should have gone into dormancy down cellar ages ago but I won’t deny it or myself one last bloom. If we can’t grow Camellias outside, might as well have them in. And the razzleberry has just pulled ahead of its witch hazel cousin (running fast this year – what if they’ve finished before Valentine’s Day?!) in the race to bloom.

Are you worried about spring or are you distracting yourself with an abundance of blooms inside?