Earlier this week I had what I, upon waking, immediately characterized as a nightmare. In the dream I woke up and looked out my bedroom window to see a backyard lightly covered in white flecks. Snow. Overnight temperatures below freezing. Somehow in the dream the front of the house and the back were different microclimates because while it had only snowed in back, in front there was snow and freezing rain. It was a day when I had to go to work so you might think that the nightmarish part of this dream would be driving across the city in freezing rain (which sounds practically suicidal to my wide-awake self since around here just regular rain makes for a stupidly treacherous commute). But it wasn’t the danger of death by SUV-driver who’s never seen an icy road that left me crying hysterically in this dream. No it was the fact that I hadn’t known it was going to snow and hadn’t covered the peppers I’m overwintering or brought in my potted tomatoes. My entire garden was ruined! I sobbed and sobbed over the death of all those plants.
Of course it is always possible that my garden might succumb to a sort of similar fate. A few years ago we actually did have nightime temperatures low enough to result in frost and Earl kitty’s water dish freezing (he was still an outdoor cat at the time). If it gets that cold, though, I can probably save the potted plants by moving them into the garage. I’d probably also try to save the peppers by way of protective blankets. But even if everything currently in the ground died it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
I definitely don’t miss cold winters. And you couldn’t pay me enough to drive across L.A. in freezing rain. But I think awake-me has a better grip on what constitutes real tragedy than dream-me does. Of course if those tomato plants were actually strong producers instead of borderline failures I might feel differently.