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It took a couple years, but the black hollyhocks are in full burst.
I’m excited to see the flower season bursting out at last.
Mr. Ebenezer has been fully enjoying the cover crop of hairy vetch on the tomato bed. When he’s not kicking back and feeling invisible (though his distinctive coat still gives him away), he has a knack for hunkering down and creeping along like a ninja stalking prey.
And the front flower bed has been hosting a strange species—the Acuminata Tulip, an heirloom variety that dates to the early 1800s.
I’ve been infused with the bliss of spring since seeing the crocuses emerge from my crappy lawn. Quite a few autumns ago I succumbed to catalog-bulb-buying madness (excellent respite from office annoyances!) and hatched the scheme of burying these spring-blooming flowers in my front yard. It was 30 or so in purple, white and yellow that I stuck in, and now it seems only the purples have persisted. It’s not a grand show. It won’t knock off your socks. But it’s a nice little boost of inspiration as we drag ourselves out of the chill shadows every year.
Then there are these in the garden bed, not the lawn. They are some kind of mammoth crocus, and I have utterly no recollection of planting them. I credit Johnny Crocusquirrel.
The January drear has got me searching for inspiration. It’s hard to push on in this sullen month, when it seems like I haven’t gotten anything actually done, but instead all too many projects half-attempted. So here are some flowers from not that long ago to provide a little Friday relief. 
