Well, knock wood. Snow is in the weather forecast for next week, and there is precedence for a killing frost in early April.
I really like the smell of its flowers. At my childhood home, there was a similar tree outside of my bedroom window, and I remember being able to catch a whiff of the scent when waking up in the morning.
***A couple of days ago O. was outside playing and I was inside fixing dinner. I checked in with him and discovered that he had ripped up a columbine plant. This has been a problem for several months, and we've talked about being gentle with plants many times, so a time-out was called for. Tears and protests ensued, of course. After he had calmed down, he told me he had ripped that plant because he was really said that he didn't have his own garden. Aha.
Yesterday we visited the garden section of our local discount store, and O. picked out petunias. On the way home, we talked about plant care, that you have to water them and frequently, and that you can't pick them all of the time or else they die. O. said he'd be very gentle and make them happy flowers. At home, we potted the plants together, and O. was so excited he was vibrating. He said his hands were excited.
O. the gardener
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