It never fails once we get that tiny warm spell, that miniscule thaw out in January; I begin to think of gardening.  I scan online seed catalogues.  I dig through catalogues I get in the mail.  I plan and dream of where things will go in the spring.

     I’m on a constant search for perennials.  I hunt for anything in a black flower because I love the way the black accents make all the other colors pop. 

     I blame my father and my Aunt J. for this.  They got me started.  They caused my addiction to gardening. 

     My father always planted tomatoes and a few other vegetables each year.  I often helped him dig around in the garden.  When I visited my Aunt J on a more regular basis, she moved my interest to perennials because she and my Uncle H had a garden shop.  Aunt J caused my full blown addiction when they went out of business and she insisted I load my van with plants on several trips.

     I still have most of those perennials in my garden.  Some of which I’ve split over the years and given to G for her gardens.  Now G and I spend the spring haunting garden shops and loading our gardens with new discoveries.