Because it's spring.
I think I scared my friend Kathy, since I was gibbering and giggling, which is generally not standard behavior, and dancing giddily from plant to plant. Spring makes me high. Especially REAL spring. Minnesota doesn't have real spring. I mean, you can get plants there, and it's exciting, but it's not like when I was a kid in Oregon, and you can plant rocks and they'll grow. I had a serious gardening high, which took me waaaay back. And now I have this gigantic sunny deck and only a few forlorn (though lovely) little pansies and some random herbs (including Corsican mint and lemon balm, which I grow only because my mother grew it--I have no earthly use for them, but the smell just takes me back to childhood gardening) and 5-for-a-buck dianthus currently filling up maybe a percent of it. I couldn't get over it all--zinnias! Bleeding heart! Marigolds! Jasmine! I've never lived in a climate where I could grow jasmine and have it like me! Azaleas! Hydrangeas! Verbena and lantana and phlox and pinks and fifty zillion kinds of sage!
However, I was good, and restrained myself--mostly--and mainly bought some inexpensive shrubs that will fit in pots and grow large and last more than the summer and, gardening gods willing, gradually fill in a bit of the deck so that it is not a vast plain of weathered boards and those damn caltrops that are ironically known as "sweet gum balls." And a coupla ground covers to fill in under said shrubs. We'll see if I can actually get a butterfly bush to grow--Mom tried to grow 'em from seed a number of times, and...well, they were learning experiences. (We learned that she couldn't grow 'em from seed, mostly.) Supposed to be a good plant for the region, though, and for five bucks, I'm willing to give it a shot. This is the Ursula method of gardening--"It's hardy? It's cheap? Okay, I'll try it." Then I lose the tag, and forget the name, and thus the joy of discovery is always new. A terrible memory and a sense of wonder can be a great combination.
And damnit--in other gardening news--I planted some climbing nasturium seeds in a pot. You cannot transplant them, so I was careful to pick a very large pot. I had a seed left over, so I shoved it idily into a pot with my freesia bulbs. And wouldn't you know it, not a damn one came up, EXCEPT the one shoved in with the freesia? Which cannot be transplanted, because they hate that. Oh, well.
I wish I could grow foxglove in pots, but I think it's a little too...giant.