I don't mind a bit of cosmetic yuck, like pink walls or dreadful seventies fake wood paneling, but I'm not going to take on a major renovation. I'm a bit sorry about the yard, though. It had wonderful possibilities. Half of my bulbs have arrived, the ones from Park Seed. I have a box full of 90 scilla, tulips, and narcissus waiting to be planted tomorrow.
Gardening is apparently an inexact art.
At any rate, I have pots, and dirt, but lack something called bulb food, so must visit the garden center and plumb the mysteries of fertilizers and feeding. I've exerted great discipline in staying away. But now I actually need to go, and I don't think I'll be tempted to get any new plants. I'm still demoralized by Dixie's last garden rampage. In the Living Dangerously category, I have daringly purchased my tickets for a convention I plan to attend in March.