I totally forgot what happens to me when the buds start budding, when wee hostas start peeking through the dirt, when daffodils sprout out in all their yellowness, when the dead earth starts to come alive.
I suddenly want to go shopping — for plants. I am suddenly overcome with the imperative that I need more pine bark mulch, new hostas, maybe some new azaleas, perhaps some otto luykens, coral bells, anything that flourishes in the shade. Maybe some new patio furniture, clay pots, maybe even a new patio.
Last year I did all that, including a patio that I think actually cost nearly $10,000, maybe only $5,000. I wasn’t paying close attention, which was exactly my problem.
Today I decided I really do need five hostas for a particular spot — next to that new patio. Home Depot didn’t have any hostas yet, and I also noticed that all their plants still seem to have nasty pesticides. Then I went to the local fancy Ace Hardware. Each pot was $15. Holy hell, I realized; five hostas was more than a week of groceries.
I went home and surveyed the back yard. There were these errant liriope that didn’t work where they were. I dug them up and put them in that spot by the patio. I also dug up some hostas that had been wasted way back in the yard and transplanted them to more propitious spaces.
What surprises me most is not my ingenuity in transplanting what I already had but my horror at buying five little hostas that would have cost me what is nearly a week’s worth of groceries. Suddenly I realized what a horrible idea that was. And I left.