This morning the frost is on the pumpkin, so to speak. My lawn is glistening with the tiny shards of frost on every leaf and petal.
The delphiniums are wilting, but the Japanese Anemone is holding on. That's a leaf of Honorine Jobert shown in the photo.
Under the sycamore, the primrose laughs at the cold weather. These stalwart plants carry the longest bloom time in my yard. They start around late February, take a break for the hottest months of July and August, then start up again in September. I get my primroses at the grocery in December and January, and put them in the ground the next spring. They and my window sill of african violets get me through the worst days of winter.
But meantime, thoughts turn to raking leaves (which we are burning this year, to try and reduce the recurrance of a nasty fungus on the maples - consequence of a very wet start to our year up here,) putting bulbs and potted plants into the ground, and clearing the area near the corner of the house where I over-winter most of my potted patio perennials.
The fish were brought in last night, the tender pond plants set into cachepots of water and placed on the unheated sunporch, were they will stand until the cold falls too low even there, and then they will come in to some as yet unknown location.
Mark gets claustrophobic in the winter when the plants come in. He hates living in the jungle. I, of course, love it. Somewhere there is a compromise.
Mostly he hates the Pelegoriums. He finds their odor offensive. They've come directly into the house this year, without being staged on the sunporch. Right now they are taking up prime space on the coffee table, where we brush against them everytime we sit on the couch. Not good. Since I've rearreanged the interior of my living room since last winter, I need to find window space to put them in. I think the cats are going to lose their eastern window in the library.
Doesn't seem to matter what I do, somebody is going to be unhappy. 'Oh well' to the cats. Must have my plants.