I took the plunge on February 1 and set out the oldest cabbage plants in the garden. It was pea planting day for our climate zone and I had the large packet of snap peas and smaller packet of lettuce seed all ready to go out. The day was to be followed by rainy weather and reasonably warm nighttime temperatures for a few days, just perfect for transplanting cabbages.

I set out the cabbages at one end of last year's tomato patch with the peas taking up most of it and two rows of lettuce next to the cabbages. The top layer of soil was rich and dark from all that compost and mulch, with a heavier layer of clay underneath. It needs more compost, but it is in better shape than last year. I'm going to have to watch the night temperatures carefully for a while, since they do waver around freezing. I probably should have put some shredded paper over the cabbages last night because they were slightly wilted this morning, but they recovered when the sun warmed them.

I added more shredded paper and the compost from Rapunzel's latest load to the area designated for the tomatoes this year. The tumblers are still making compost, just much more slowly because of the cooler weather. So far the long strips are mixing in fairly well as long as I am careful to add them in small enough quantities to tumble each batch in and coat them with old compost and water to start the composting. The main problem with constipation seems to happen when a wet clump doesn't get tumbled with the old compost still in the barrel to mix the soil organisms into the whole mass. When they only coat the outside of a thick, wet clump, the clump just slowly breaks down from the outside in.

I've got enough cabbage and broccoli seedlings to fill the available areas for them, so indoor seed sowing has come to a halt for about two weeks until it is time to start the warm weather crops. I did have one ugly duckling come up in a pot of flowers. Somehow one seed got mixed into their packet, and a hairy little seedling sprouted among the smooth-stemmed vincas.

I call such surprise seedlings ugly ducklings because they usually turn out to be swans. The question is what kind of swan will they be. It has the leaves of a tomato plant, so that is what it likely is. Until it actually starts producing some fruit, I can't be totally sure. I transplanted it into a large pot instead of the small six-packs that the vincas now occupy, since a tomato will need lots of room to keep growing until it is time to set them all out in about two months.

The cats are enjoying my return to the garden and are poking around the mulch with considerable interest. They gallop across the yard and scramble up into the small ornamental trees, then glower down at me like I am prey about to be seized. They are keeping the overwintering birds alert while awaiting the return of the migratory types.

They won't have too long to wait. We have a group of regulars who return to nest in our trees and dive-bomb the cats hunting their nestlings. The cardinals have two evergreens staked out, while the robins and jays nest in nearby trees. The fiercest avian warriors are the mockingbirds, who perch near the house ready to swoop down in kamikaze arcs when the cats appear. They put on a heroic show in the spring, and sometimes renew it later in the summer if they raise a late clutch.

Rascal views it with gustatory anticipation. Mischief wisely flees the scene of battle, but Rascal seems to think that the birds are deliberately if clumsily trying to serve themselves for his snack. He lies down in the grass in plain sight and waits for an ill-timed plunge too near to his paws and teeth. He usually ends up swooped up by Mom to be fed a cat food snack with a lecture about leaving the mama birds alone.

I finished knitting the second sweater and just have to sew it together. I've nearly finished shredding the great pile of paper, so I'm hoping that will leave more time for crafting. There always seems to be something popping up to intrude on my diligently planned schedule, despite the organizer's steady beeping. I can stay busy all day, actually have lots done to show for it, and still not finish the organizer list.

I click down the organizer list in the morning, watching the planting dates rushing towards the top of the list while remembering the forecasters still singing the snow warning blues. The cats have stopped marveling at the unworthy little gray box that beeps a waking alarm to duty beside my bed. They seem to have all the time in the world to eat, sleep, and play, just like little children. Perhaps that is one reason that the Lord made them, to remind us to stop and take a break occasionally. That has been tough to do lately.

Now the months seem to pass like business weeks without a weekend to separate them. The first wave of gardening activity has passed and another wave is about to break with the arrival of onion and potato planting time in a week. I'm keeping an eye out for delivery men with the gardening orders, including the onion plants and potato sets that I ordered in a fit of enthusiasm over the fig tree I've been wanting for quite a few years.

Now that I have cut down enough weedy shrubs to make a place for a little hardy fig tree, a twenty dollar coupon from one of my favorite seed companies for sending in an early order was just the excuse to get it. Of course, it didn't cost twenty dollars so I had to buy a few more things so I wouldn't waste the coupon, starting with twenty dollars of stuff to validate the coupon to begin with. I had quite a nice order full of goodies sent off before common sense began reasserting itself. It is going to be an interesting gardening year when it is time to weed all of that stuff. I'm just hoping that the paper supply holds out enough to smother most of the weeds under a thick layer of shredded newspaper mulch.