Snow For Sale. Cheap.

No kidding. This was actually in the classifieds this morning, and it pretty much sums up the mood in all of northern Indiana right now.

And yes -- of course I called the number. An answering machine picked up, and a curmudgeonly male voice, resigned and slow, said only, "Can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message." Beep.

He must be inundated with offers. Best laugh I've had all week.

Of course, January is the best month of all for gardening, and as such is not to be rushed. In January, the garden is still only a vision, perfect and packed with healthy, beautiful plants. No weeds invade the flower beds, no bugs ever chew on the roses, no fatal fungi attack tender young seedlings. Imaginary gates and walkways spring from the ground, fully finished, leading into cool, green, mosquito-free woods. Flocks of butterflies flitter in the wildflowers that will, we are sure, surround a big, shaded hammock where we will read a fine novel and sway with the summer breeze. The sun is never too hot, the rain always falls right on time, and the raccoons never find your sweet corn. Ahhhhh, January.

In reality, I am making a very modest list of herbs and native plants to try here. The budget won't allow for a lot, and there's a very good chance that anything fancy will end up as expensive deer poop. So I figure maybe a few herb plants right up against the house, and some desirable natives the deer have probably seen before and won't notice so much.

American bittersweet for the bluebirds is number one on the list. (Oriental bittersweet is easier to find, but it's invasive.) I can picture it in the corner of the pasture fence, spilling out over the top, with bluebird houses on some of the posts.

Viburnums are next. According to the reading I've done, they're disease and deer resistant, and they attract both butterflies and birds. I always liked them anyway. They're fast growers, and they have hydrangea-like flowers in spring and red berries in the fall. I'll probably tuck some yellow flags at the pond's edge to see how that goes. And that's about it.

Hubby, on the other hand, is drawing up battle plans for The Vegetable Fortress. So far, it involves an eight foot fence, burried footers, metal whirligigs, and electricity. We may or may not get vegetables out of the deal, but it should be entertaining in any case.

Meanwhile, we have all. This. Friggin. Snow. Want some?