It’s a pattern, an ugly pattern.

Each and every fall I take note of just exactly what items I will need to have at the ready in the house for seed starting come February and March. These items are all in the greenhouse. I make the list. I take a few things in. Not all. If I were to take everything I need into the house I would be admitting that the growing season is over. Finished. Therefore, without fail, I need to gain access to a greenhouse that, invariably, has a huge snowdrift in front of its door.

My nongardening spouse, John, recognizes this pattern. He trudges out there, postholing, shovel over his shoulder, and frees the door. This scene is repeated, without fail, year after year. A pattern if ever there was one.

What prompted this need to breach the drift and enter the greenhouse was a welfare check on the tuber begonias. Over the years I have attempted to overwinter these tubers with varying degrees of success. But this year appears to be a bonus. All four tubers are looking quite lively. They are graced with lovely, juicy, pink shoots and are just begging to be potted. Same goes for the calla lilies and rununculus.

There is one and only one flowerbox here and it is located on the only north window. It is one of the first things you see as you approach the house. I have hit on the rose form, rose in color, tuber begonia as the main show. Each year I add lobelia, pansies and whatever catches my eye that trails. This is proving to be a winning combination. The colors complement the hedge of bleeding hearts below the box, and the William Baffin climbing rose at each corner of the house. It is a predictable planting. Nothing earth-shattering. I like it. And, most important, it says “welcome” better than anything.

I have been given a pink geranium, something I have wanted ever since I saw a whole bed of them at a friend’s house in California, of all places. If you overwintered yours it is probably looking spindly and shabby. Be honest with yourself here. I am sure that yours looks as bad as mine. So I cut it back to a stub about a week ago, watered it thoroughly, put it into a favorable window and stood back. Sure enough it is sending up fresh, spring-green growth. I saved the cuttings and put them into 4-inch pots with sterile potting material and they are looking just fine. I will have multiple pots of pink geraniums this summer.

The calla lilies are a deep red. They will dominate a pot of their own with lobelia as an accent. This pot is kept by the greenhouse where it is somewhat sheltered from the relentless west wind. The same goes for the ranunculus. These are a mix of pink and white and are just so lovely in a pot of their own. Neither of these lovelies will overwinter outdoors so I pull them every fall and restart them right about now. They are a treasure.

This whole adventure led me to take a good look at my journal. I have kept a garden journal for at least 25 years. It consists of three-ring binders with lined notebook paper, all gleaned from kids’ (who are now adults) school supplies. Nothing fancy. Holes have been punched in the receipts from various emporiums and filed with the relevant year. That way I know what was purchased when.

Each section starts with the current year and contains notes of what and how much of what I started. The next page is my version of a weather watch. This is proving to be a telling chronicle of how our spring weather has gone from “misty-moisty” to downright hot and dry. Interesting. The following pages get remarkably detailed: what I planted where, what got moved and why, how the greenhouse is progressing, what is being harvested, detail upon detail. All in horrid penmanship. Pages later comes the title “Bloom Times,” a crucial page that really aids me in planting combinations. The final page is a diagram of the vegetable garden. Without this I probably would never remember what I planted where and would be totally lost when it came to crop rotation.

Among the garden entries are life entries: garden parties are duly noted as are graduations, weddings, births, deaths.

Methinks I will bequeath these journals to my children.

Note: The Homer Garden Club meets Sunday at 2 p.m. at City Hall in the council chambers. The speaker is Ellen Vande Visse and she will open our eyes to the wonders of compost. Not to be missed.

A basic membership to the garden club is $10. Send your check to: Homer Garden Club, P.O. Box 2833, Homer AK 99603.

If you are traveling Outside, The Garden Conservancy’s Open Days Directory ($20.45) is a handy guide to take along. Call 888-842-2442, or visit www.gardenconservancy.org. This guide lists over 400 gardens in 22 states that will be open to the public.

Rosemary Fitzpatrick has been gardening with gusto in Homer for 27 years.