It may be a bit chilly, but the hope of spring is with me.

For indoor gardens the change in seasons isn’t all that dramatic. Spring, summer, fall, winter are just temperature control annoyances.

Outside is a different story: winter eats unprotected gardens with frosty gnashing teeth. Your lovely pretty annuals a faded memory, your perennials imitating dead sticks, there is something a little sad about gardens covered in snow. This is time to sharpen those blades, make those plans, and print those labels. Thankfully winter doesn’t last forever, and after the cold night of winter comes the early morning of spring.

Depending on your “zone,” spring may be just right around the corner. Around these parts the last frost hits about mid-March.

There is a pre-spring moment, when the ground has been cleared and the only seeds in the garden are ones of hope and anticipation, that is very special to me.

I told you that, to help clarify the rest.

There I was bopping along, doing the 9 to 5 thing, minding my own business.

And then, as they say, the turtle moved.

After a series of events that Mrs. G refers to as “signs so obvious that they are impossible to miss” I find myself in a situation where my love for gardening has led to a position with a hydroponics company. I can enjoy my passion not only as a vacation, but a vocation.

I don’t know if there was an unseen force involved or not, but just in case there was, thank you very much. I am honored by your blessing.

Maybe I watched too many episodes of Kung Fu as a kid, but I got to thinking that to really honor the spirit of hope and new beginnings I could mark the occasion with some sort of physical statement.

I was going to lift a bowl full of hot coals to brand my forearms and let me out of a locked box, but Mrs. Grubbycup wouldn’t go for it. (If you didn’t watch the show, just ignore that.)

Then I thought about clearing the garden soil to make way for new possibilities. But I thought I could make that a bit more personal.

So gentle reader, here is my homage to the universe that has gifted me so, to new paths ahead, and to you.

Stay tuned over the next year or so while my beard and hair sprout and grow, find out how much snow is on my garden, and see if you can spot where the crop runs a but thin (okay, so bare) on top.

Peace, love and puka shells,

Grubbycup

Post script: The first thing I have learned on my new path is that if you are going to have a life-changing epiphany that convinces you to shave off all your hair, try to do it in the spring or summer months, as in January it gets very cold, very quick.