I'm such a cliche. I am composing this post from a chair inside a Starbucks on my iPad. You see, I have been forced out of my house once again while potential buyers walk through it. It's better without me there because they don't need me watching them any more than I want to hear what they have to say about our house.
In the meantime, my gardening life is more or less on hold. There are a few things I've been doing outside just to keep things looking good. I finally ripped out the petunias that were still in bloom and and replanted a couple matching boxes flanking our front door with a type of heavenly bamboo called 'Moon Bay'. But that took less than 20 minutes last weekend and just left me wishing I could do more.
But what's the point in spending more money on plants that I won't get to watch grow this year?
On the other hand, as we scan the internet and go to open houses that are kicking other people out of their homes, I find myself wondering what I could do if I ended up with that big back yard with the funky tree or the small backyard with the covered patio. It is at once a pleasure to dream about and a pain that dreaming is all I can do.
I'm sure it is a feeling that anyone that has ever received a seed catalogue in the middle of winter can relate to. Especially if you are not an indoor seed-starter. But right now I don't even know which seeds I could order. Will I have a full sun backyard with raised beds already built and ready to go? Or will I end up with a shady respite from Sacramento's brutal summer sun?
No matter where we end up (or when we end up there) I trust that it will be a place where I will learn new things about gardening, where I will be forced to get creative to find solutions, and where I will remember, once again, that all gardening is local - even when you move just a few miles away.