The weather is finally turning a bit, and I've been planting like a busy bee. Today, as I dug holes for an apricot tree and four shrubs (a forsythia, two red-twig dogwoods and a golden arborvitae), I thought about why I garden. I was covered with leaf mold, cotton burr compost and dirt, and yet, I felt like a child again. All around me violas, pansies, crocus and daffodils were blooming. Bees were just starting to buzz, and every day, something different was poking its leaves above ground. In our ever busy, super techno world, it seems people are more cynical, and many try to regain their childhood in unhealthy ways. I can promise you playing Xbox is not the path to happiness. I had a bone density test this morning, and as is often the case this time of year, I stood, in jeans, boots and gardening t-shirt, waiting....

Wait, little garden, wait. It's not April even though the weather makes us feel like May. New bulb shoots are popping up all over, which is fine, but you're also blooming like preteen girls at a party, and there's no music yet. Wait, little garden, wait. No, sweet daffodils, it's not yet time even if you're very cold hardy. Please wait . . . and tulips, don't even think about sending up flowers yet. You can't stand a sustained low of 27F like we had this morning. Wait, little garden, wait. Spring's youth flirts with you, dizzying your thoughts with blue skies, soft rain and heady temperatures. He is only playing with you and telling you lies. Winter isn't finished with us yet. No, roses, I won't buy you tender annuals and perennials to place at your feet. I don't care if the big box stores are already selling them...

A triumvirate of croci Today was a quiet home day as are most Wednesdays. I stay away from the computer and just do those things which keeps the RDR humming. I fold the every present laundry. I shop for groceries. I love shopping for groceries especially at Homeland. Now, those who live nearby will be laughing. Homeland isn't the cheapest store, and it isn't the biggest (I like small), but it has things I can't find anywhere else like really fresh produce and unusual things (for Oklahoma anyway) like leeks. I wish I could grow leeks. I watch Jamie Oliver whip them up into the most faboo things, but alas, I have never grown leeks well. Maybe if I started them in fall? By Wednesday, I'm ready for a bit of home keeping. I've usually sent off a post to Lowe's or Fiskars, or an article to Oklahoma Gardener, and...

You've read the stories of people who decided to drop out of the corporate buzzsaw. Cheering these slow-life pioneers from the sidelines, you may think, I'd like to do that too, but I can't because . . . . So, what happens when the cheering stops, and the new life begins? In 2007, about the same time I started RDR, I heard from a friend that Martha Stewart's one-time, girl-of-all-trades, Margaret Roach, had chucked it all and gone to live in the woods. Not only that, she was blogging about it and with grace. I visited, enjoyed her writing and commented never expecting to hear back from her. I mean, after all, she was the former Editorial Director of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia. I was surprised when she came by and left a comment or two on my blog when the occasion merited it. On Twitter, she also gave me...