I spent the morning in the garden, with my sickle, pruning saw and shears. It's gray and cool, this first day of the month, and I went out wearing all my warm layers, but after working a bit and sawing off two vineyard poles, I got hot. So I stopped, sat down in the damp grass, and started planning my spring garden. And while I was planning, I began playing with the pile of pesky ivy I'd cut back. I got so absorbed by weaving and twisting it, that before I knew it, I'd made a wreath. My first wreath ever, a February wreath.