Our Gurney's spring seed catalog arrived a couple of weeks ago.

At first I was okay.

I mean, there's always a little thrill when it arrives in the mailbox between our Entertainment Weekly Oscars edition and the cable bill. But even after I sat down and looked through its brightly-lit photos of golf ball-sized strawberries and deep emerald green bush beans, I felt all right.

After a brief tease of 50 degree weather last week, the temperature bottomed out again. This weekend we were stuck inside – again – and yesterday, as the thermometer reading hovered around 15 degrees, I slowly became obsessed. Again.

I'm not compulsively hoarding seed envelopes yet. But my brain seems to be stuck in this loop of what I want to plant in our garden, how much of our tax return we can set aside to buy this biggest tree possible to replace the crumbling box elder that provides the only shade for our backyard (aka our outdoor playroom/dining room), and finally where the heck else can I plant hostas when I split them this year?

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