Winter gardening? Not a lot of action...but some fun.

The resident wildlife enjoying his own shadow as he strolls past the cold frame.

I've been fixated on Africa posts, because, as you may have noticed, I gathered so much richness so quickly that I've  focused on digesting the African experiences with words and photos. I'm not finished. But ordinary life does intrude, and it is the predominant reality, and so it goes. While in Africa the lions prowl, the giraffes gambol, the elephants lumber, the springboks bok, and in Southern Oregon the gardeners twiddle their thumbs, mostly.

The January garden looks sad, even on a sunny day. There's no sense in working it until late February or early March. If then. The white cloth near the back protects overwintered chard. Sorta.

But time moves on, and my attention turns, briefly, to the garden. We've had a cold dry winter, despite one storm that blanketed everything with snow then slicked roads with ice for a couple weeks. Still, the seed catalogs arrive in their seasonal flurry and seeds planted in early fall are struggling in the cold frame.

Spinach, lettuce and kale in the cold frame are sulking. At least they survived our unusual single-digit winter temps.We'll be harvesting out of the cold frame in February. The shadow? The cat.

One garden chore that can be tackled in January is digging and separating leek bulbs. Somehow I like the mindlessness, the Zen, of crumbling dirt and pulling apart the bulbs, laying out the plants and separating into bunches, some to replant, most to give away. The earth's heady fragrance, the warmth of the winter sun, the chirruping of the birds at the feeders. All good. All these little starts came from one clump. I'll end up with enough to plant the whole garden in leeks, should I be foolish enough to do so. Separating and replanting the bulbs is tedious but I know what happens in June that makes the work worthwhile.

Here it is. Leeks in action! We eat few leeks, because onions are so much easier, but leek flowers?

They're major bee magnets plus they make great dried and cut flowers and are stunning three-foot tall additions to the garden. I know they're coming back. I can't wait.

In the meanwhile, we consider travel to South America and boogieing at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. We also think about a new roof and replacing a deteriorating living-room rug. And also about leaving resources for our children and theirs. After 40 years of marriage, purchasing a headboard and a dresser for our bedroom also rears up. How boring. How to spend money when it is limited? Always a question, but I'm tending toward South America and away from a new living room rug. But on to January gardening.

  A geranium that loves winter. I almost threw this 15? year-old plant onto the compost, but I'm glad to have it as a mood booster. It is great to having something that loves winter. It lives in the solarium of our semi-solar abode. And we live in in our home of umpteen years in a semi-nomadic mood. 

Gardening in November? It's the leeks.

Leeks in November. They were completely ignored for three years. PK thought they might be goners. But no.

Mucking around in the dirt a couple days ago, after the rest of the garden had been yanked up and spread  into the field to melt down, I decided to dig up a clump of leeks, just to see what they look like. Several years ago, a gardening pal gave us clots of leeks, which we stuck into the ground and ignored. I noticed this summer that they had gorgeous white flowers and made a note to check out the action below the soil.

A clump of leek bulbs striving to reproduce.

Here's what I found about a foot down. Numerous leek bulbs, all the way from small onion-sized to thimble-sized, full of vigor and sprouting. Not at all expired! I broke up this clump and saved the largest bulbs for cooking.

Leek bulbs seem a lot like shallots. They're very delicate and best eaten cooked rather than raw.

To the right, a couple of jalapenos and tomatoes All went into a chicken soup.

 The smaller bulbs I gave away at my yoga class, along with advice that they could be planted now in the deep trenches advised by gardening gurus. Truthfully, I haven't found any info about planting leek bulbs, just info for sowing seeds or baby leeks. But why wouldn't leek bulbs work? I plan to dig up another clump and establish a real leek bed, trenches and all, before the rains begin. That means I need to hurry. Wet weather will arrive any day now. I'll have to wait til spring to see the results, but waiting and patience is what gardening is all about, especially in November.