Quiet Panic

The garden tour is 22 weeks from today.  I have been sitting here all day contemplating that one little fact.  

In 22 weeks my Frans Hals daylilies will be in bloom and there will be hundreds of people traipsing around our gardens asking hundreds of questions.  We will serve them gallons of iced tea and lemonade, trays of fruit and cookies, and as much gardening knowledge as we can possible remember about our gardens.

In 21 weeks there will be printing deadlines and last minute decisions about table setups and posters.  Radio interviews, newspaper interviews and emails sent out all around.

In 20 weeks there will be press releases written and letters sent to media outlets, television ads and radio ads.

In 19 weeks there will be a big push for fundraising and thank you notes and follow-ups.  There will be handouts and flyers printed.

In 18 weeks the garden must be ready.

In 17 weeks the lawns must be mown and edged.

In 16 weeks the water features must be re-stoned.

In 15 weeks, all of the garden beds must be edged and mulched.

In 14 weeks all of the window boxes must be planted.

In 13 weeks all of the main annuals must be in the ground.

In 12 weeks, we can begin planting outdoors.

We have 12 weeks before we start planting outside and I haven't finished my winter gardening tasks - redoing the planting diagrams, updating the garden bed charts with anything that should/may come back again from this last year.  It's just not done.

This year will be our first year as president of the garden club.  It's a big deal to us - mostly because it acknowledges the huge amount of work we have done on the grounds since we bought our bucolic manor.  Mostly done by my Dear Honey.  Mostly done by hand.

Tomorrow we have our first meeting with the outgoing president of the garden club to talk about the tour.

I guess this marks the official start of summer.  I hope it doesn't snow.