Had Wordsworth found himself in Göttingen rather than Grassmere in 1804 then the Romantics would have found themselves with a completely different totem from the daffodil because we have such a late spring here. At the moment the only colour is coming from next door's forsythia, some garish, forced, garden-centre primulas (to be planted later in the lawn to reappear next year as primroses, I hope) and the winter pansies – (stiefmütterchen – little stepmothers – odd name). I'm not sure that a 'host of purple winter pansies' would have cut it in quite the same way.
Anyway, my garden is slowly awakening and we will eventually have daffodils (Osterglocken – Easter bells) but we won't have them until the end of April. At the moment we're only just getting the snowdrops which i think are almost finished in England now. Despite having nasty soil practically everything I planted last year has started to come back: Lady's Mantle; Peony; The Not So Dead Twig (I forget the name of it but it is a bush with beautiful red leaves); Lavender; Grape Hyacinths; Aqualegia; Poppies; Herbst Anenome; Spanish Bluebells; Alliums. It's too early to see what's happening with the hollyhocks and I think I'm only going to be able to pull very obvious weeds until July because I'm terrified of pulling anything by mistake that's self-seeded.
Whisper it softly, but I think I will have my terraced beds dug by the end of April/beginning May by Herr Lukaschos from Nikolausberg – he has given me a quote, in writing. I need to talk to him in the next day or so to organise measuring up.
Basil and Tomato seeds went into the propagator this morning.