Sometimes the temptation for early spring planting is hard to resist. One year our white Christmas turned into a dripping thaw and the sun came out and stayed out.

I spent January walking, doing yard work, and moving my lawn chair from garden to garden. I did clean up the flower gardens, put new ground cover where needed and aligned my borders. All the time, out of the corners, I eyed the vegetable garden.

February rolled out the calendar like a May flag day. The daffodils popped up, the tulips followed and the tree buds were opening. The ground hog beat on his chest, did a jig, and I got out my rototiller. Before you knew it, I had my garden worked up, clods broken up, soil raked out and smooth. I also had a can of choice earthworms as the next thing on my agenda was to go fishing.

I did it. I measured out my stakes and strung strings across the garden in an array that put me in mind of the underside of a piano. Down the rows I went dropping seeds in the neat furrows I had hoed. The birds chirping, begging for my seed, flew off when I drove my scarecrow into the ground and hung up my dangling can noisemakers off his arms. When I was finished I went into the house, got a fresh cup of coffee, then returned to a chair by the vegetable garden in total admiration.

That night I fell into the sleep of a butterfly just like I was wrapped in warm little cocoon. While I slept I began to dream of a war torn landscape. Cannons belched out flames followed by white smoke and deafening thunder. Suddenly a cannonball hit the roof of my house and I sat up in bed wide awake. It seemed so real. The reason is seemed so real is I heard the sound again, and again. I went into the living room and looked out the window. Ice sickles were hanging from the trees and power lines. The road in front of my house looked like a mirror. Trees were screaming, then exploding as the heavy ice broke them down. It sounded like war, but it was only a Kentucky ice storm.

For the next two weeks it rained. The sun came out. Then it rained for another two weeks. I knew my garden was ruined. Not one plant would ever come up. Like any ordinary hard head my decision was to fight back. I gathered up every egg carton, paper cup, table and light I could find. I went and bought seed starter mix and other indoor seed starting materials.

It was no spring planting fever. It was agony.