It's May, and that means that I've officially waited long enough to pretty up the balconies. Last year, I jumped the gun and put out the flower boxes before Easter, and they ended up frost-bitten, windblown, and then — if that weren't enough to survive — baked to a crisp in the hot summer sun. Sorry, guys.
I've been told May 1st is the all-clear date for spring planting, so last Sunday I got down and dirty. The front's shaping up nicely; I just need to revive my popcorn tin planter and fill it with some herbs, and refill Nathan's lonely feeder with some birdseed. The back is a bit of another story: the furniture I carefully (read: hastily) acquired from a series of Craigslist scores is looking a little worse for wear after sitting outside all winter.
In my defense, I huddled everything together under a tarp that was then weighed down with some bricks, so they weren't completely exposed to the elements. But the paint on the chair that sucked up so many hours of my life last summer is already starting to brush off, and those metal stacking tables have some serious rust edge.
OH WELL. I'm happy to focus more on the little things: some replacement bulbs for all the ones I broke last year, a handful of legit outdoor pillows and cushions, and maaaaaaybe some hanging planters. Who knows. I've got three months of well-lit summer nights ahead of me to fill with tinkering and rearranging.
Maybe I'll even invite people over to enjoy it. Stranger things have happened.