By Teresa Noelle Roberts On May 9 2013, 9:00 am

Spring has finally come to New England, and for this writer, at least, it’s both a blessing and a curse. You see, I’m a gardener. Out the window of my office, just above my computer monitor, the outdoors is beckoning to me. There are seedlings to transplant, seeds to plant, flowers to pick, weeds to pull, new fruit trees to coddle. Hell, there’s an entire flower bed to redesign, though luckily I can’t see that from my office or I’d be doomed.

Face it, I’m still doomed. I went to the front door just now to give my husband a kiss before he headed back to work after lunch and the scent of violas and hyacinths and sun-warmed earth filled my nostrils. If I’d been wearing shoes, I’d have been out the door and into the garden immediately, eager to dig in the dirt. The lack of shoes forced me back inside, and once I got there, I made myself get back to work. But after I finish this post, I expect I’ll be in the garden.

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