It’s a large number to think about on a human scale

Why are we still in this war, and why do we still need so much damn oil? Spent some time as I do every once in a while, thinking about the number of dead soldiers, and putting faces on the number by learning about the soldiers killed.

Sgt. John C. Osmolski was called “Squirrel” by his friends.

Too many.

This is a blog about gardens, though. So I will not talk about oil, but my tomatoes and beans will get here without a truck.

I’ve been enjoying the freakishly warm weather, planning the garden and fretting that the early spring means I should plant earlier. Paula went to round of classes at botanic garden on Saturday: I’m excited to hear about her learnins. It has been warm enough that the compost has thawed. It smells clean and fresh, like oranges and rainy leaves.

I had my wisdom teeth out wednesday, and I thought I would have plenty of time thursday to plant the first round of seeds. Nope.

Instead, the truths of the Star magazine felt very important and complex, and I watched so much TV that I grew antennae.

I cleaned off the table for seeds to start and have assembled the following jumble of junk in which to plant: - venetian blinds for seed markers

• paper pots and egg cartons for planting in

• bread crates to build a KittenRepellingCage to protect seedlings

• bright yellow construction mesh to reinforce said Cage

And I keep buying seeds.

I did do a big map of garden for garden class, which I will scan and put up. I learned some stuff from class, mostly to think about how to use the space. Really use it. And that I should feel good about working with what’s there.

I will plant tomatoes today or tomorrow: what say you Hubert? Is it time?