I just bought my spanish onion sets a couple of days ago.  I’m what’s known as an impatient gardener.  Barely is the snow melted when I am itching to get my hands in the ground.  

For me the arrival of spring has nothing to do with the Equinox or robins; it is when I can smell the earth again.  

I’m happy that I can plant my onions before the frost date,  because to wait until planting weekend in May for everything else is torture.  In fact, as soon as I finish writing this, I am heading out to my small raised garden to turn it over and press the little bulbs deep in the damp soil.  

Then I’ll try and not dig around them in a few days to see if they’re growing.  Really, I’m that bad.  

But the waiting is worth it in the end.  Fruit and vegetables from the store that have ripened in crates on trucks and then languish in warehouses just don’t taste the same.  

So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to dig in the dirt.