I'm looking forward to reading your thoughts on The Buried Giant, but am saving them for later since, funnily enough, I'm about half way through the book right now.
My hyacinths are poking up, along with a few daffodils and other little spring flowers. Their emergence never fails to delight me.
Our rhubarb has also come up. I think I will move some of it this week to a brighter spot. Last year I split it and moved it. Kept finding more roots as I planted other things, so kept crowding more bits in. Now they need to stretch out a bit I think.
Thank you for this interesting book suggestion. It sounds like one that will interest both of us.
The rhubarb poking through *is* a thrill to see, isn't it!⭐
Like you, I planted mine only last year.
After my failed attempts to grow it elsewhere, its ruddy, robust re-appearance this year, after previous failures, feels like a real affirmation of life.
Getting my hands dirty in the warming soil, is my perfect antidote to the sterilized world we've been subjected to this past year. So much hope in the gardens!
I'm looking forward to reading your thoughts on The Buried Giant, but am saving them for later since, funnily enough, I'm about half way through the book right now.
My hyacinths are poking up, along with a few daffodils and other little spring flowers. Their emergence never fails to delight me.
Thank you for the wonderful journey into Kazuo Ishiguro's world(s), I didn't know about his work, and will pick up a book soon! Happy Spring, Megan.
Our rhubarb has also come up. I think I will move some of it this week to a brighter spot. Last year I split it and moved it. Kept finding more roots as I planted other things, so kept crowding more bits in. Now they need to stretch out a bit I think.
All things seem possible in the spring garden.
Thank you for this interesting book suggestion. It sounds like one that will interest both of us.
The rhubarb poking through *is* a thrill to see, isn't it!⭐
Like you, I planted mine only last year.
After my failed attempts to grow it elsewhere, its ruddy, robust re-appearance this year, after previous failures, feels like a real affirmation of life.
Bring on Spring!
Getting my hands dirty in the warming soil, is my perfect antidote to the sterilized world we've been subjected to this past year. So much hope in the gardens!