Obsessed

I’ll admit it, I do consider myself to be a little obsessive. I’m obsessed with flower gardening.  It starts every spring as I anxiously patrol the walkways of my garden looking for new signs of life amidst the snow still on the ground.  It gets worse as the days get warmer, and I find myself counting and recounting the new baptisia shoots springing forth by the day.  What’s wrong with remembering that last year my 2 year old false indigo had 11 shoots that sprung to life after what could only be called a very snowy, cold winter?  Obsessive? I think not!  As summer’s glorious blooms appear, I find myself anxiously perusing every nursery and garden center in Northwest Colorado looking for what could be a most perfect addition to my garden.  I never fail to find many perfect new additions.  The mania continues into fall as I plant new peonies and bulbs, with the dream that one day they will bloom joyfully in my river rock bordered flower garden.  You might think this obsession would have no choice but to wither and fade with winter’s deep snow and frigid temperatures.   I must admit, it only gets worse.  With winter comes the barrage of plant, seed, bulb and perennial catalogs that find their way into my mailbox.  With winter outside, I happily flip through them one by one, then again and again, dreaming of summer and the new blooms to come.

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