I really hoped we were done with the snow.

A week after I came home to green grass and blossoming spring flowers, and concluded that spring was happening, we’re still exactly at the same point as then. Temperatures haven’t risen, leaf buds haven’t opened, daffodils are still not in bloom. Everything is on pause.

It’s still freezing cold outside and not really the weather for gardening. I can put on layers to keep me warm, but digging in wet freezing soil leads to freezing cold fingers. But I can at least do some picking up and general cleaning. When Nysse lets me us the bucket.

Spring arrived in Spånga while I was away. When I left, most everything was still dormant, and I come back to everything flowering.

The overnight transition from a thick blanket of snow in Jokkmokk to spring flowers was jarring.

I planted a Hellebore in the new flowerbed in front of the house last year. I’m never quite sure what will survive and what won’t, even when I follow all the recommendations about sun and shade and soil conditions, but this one did, and now it’s flowering!

Viburnum. As beautiful and pleasing this spring as it has been every spring.

To be fair, it’s not just the weeds that are green in the garden. The carex is surprisingly hardy and green all year round. Several of the ground cover plants also emerge green from under the snow, including both hazelwort and waldsteinia. I rather like that. Maybe I should try them in more places.

Nothing green is growing yet, apart from eranthis and snowdrops. And… weeds. How come it’s always the weeds that start first? Not even crocuses are out yet.

My family walks through the house without noticing a lot of things that I can’t help but notice. They leave chairs pulled out from the table, at an angle. They leave rugs askew. They leave doors half-open in such a way that, when I walk into the space, I am met by the edges of the doors.

The family are clearly not bothered. But to me, the doors meeting me edge-on almost feel like the doors are attacking me. It’s like walking into hostile territory. A palisade, or a barred wall.

So I keep pushing the doors away to the side, all the time. And a few hours later, they’re back again.

The new light fixture is so great. I put stronger lightbulbs in there than I thought we’d need, and now I’m glad I did so. I can sit and sew late at night, with black thread on graphite fabric, without even straining my eyes or wearing glasses.