Waiting until Mother's Day is out of the question. There is no way I'm going to wait that long to start with flowers. I'm pretty sure that Colorado rule is really only for when you put your tomatoes in the ground outside, anyway. Container pots on the front porch are a whole different story. I bought violas a week ago, and have been waiting until I had a gap in my schedule to plant them and put them on the front porch. So naturally, I had to sneak out today and get some multi-colored calibrachoa, a couple pots of dianthus, a forget-me-not (to go over Bump's grave), a perfectly good osteospermum from the clearance rack, and two pots of sweet basil to go with the two four-packs of violas. Most of it has been planted, except oddly, only half of the violas have been used so far. I put the forget-me-nots and one dianthus (white flowers with dark magenta centers) over Bumpy. The basil went in with a bay laurel that has been struggling to survive since last year next to my front window, and two small clusters of violas for color, and that pot is on the front stoop. I also clipped the five or six spent flowers off of the osteospermum, and set it outside (really, this should not have been in clearance, but who am I to argue good fortune). I had a pot with bolted oregano and a struggling coral bells left from last year, with a tag that says there was also bergamot in there. We shall see whether it perks up once it gets stronger sunlight. I moved a pot of orange begonias outside. Two spindly shoots had wintered poorly. It might come back. And I put the calibrachoa and the other violas in a pot by themselves, and set them outside. All in all, it's not much of a display, but it gets me going for the season. It's a scrimmage, as it were, set on Draft Day. A hint of things to come.
I'm absolutely fatigued, after another night of playing games next door, with a big meal cooked by my neighbor's mother (it was perfect) and a couple of glasses of red wine to mellow me out. I ought to sleep like a baby tonight. I'm not sure I will. My starter hot tub is currently draining, and tomorrow morning it goes to the great beyond, while a new, highly efficient one takes its place. I loved every minute of the practice tub. We used it year round almost exactly two years now. It showed me how correct I was to want one so desperately for so many years. I had a lovely farewell soak instead of eating lunch today, and tomorrow will be bittersweet as the old tub leaves and the new, bigger one arrives. I'm sure I'll be anxious and freaked out tomorrow, with strangers coming in my back yard, bringing in a thousand-pound beastie, and working while my dogs bark from the garage. I should sleep now, so that I have the mental flexibility to handle this. The good news is, by tomorrow night, or Saturday morning at the latest, I'll be able to relax in a new hot tub to unwind if I freak out.
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