Mr. Temptation can cause trouble when the seed catalogs arrive

A tall stack of seed catalogs has accumulated in my storage rack. The brilliant cover of each tries to lure me away from the rest. An enormous sunflower adorning one screams for my attention over the simplicity of a quaint bouquet on the cover of another. The slippery feel of the glossy pages tempts my fingertips. The light newsprint pages of another beckons.

Inside each catalog, copious varieties are described in detail. They say positively delicious things such as, “coral-rose blooms with a gentle golden burst at the center” or “dark green with a dark reddish maroon overlay, a very dark velvety crimson” or “nutty, buttery flavor of excellent meaty golden flesh.”

I have assigned a storage bin to seed catalogs because I discovered that the worst possible thing to do is to misplace a treasure. “Where is my Pinetree Garden Seeds catalog?” I would say frantically each year. “Where did it go? Have you seen it? Is it under your bed? Is it in your toy box? Did you take it off the counter? Please don’t tell me the dog has shredded it to pieces. Please, please, please?”

The questions would roll off my tongue faster than anyone could answer them. As my seed-need hysteria would escalate, three blurry figures of a man and two little girls (who in any other situation would be recognizable as my husband and two daughters) would stand helplessly, hands flung in the air and apologetic looks on their faces. (Although I have a feeling that when I turned my back, ranting my way into the next room, their eyes rolled.)

Eventually, the catalog would turn up under a pillow on the couch or beneath a cushion, its tender pages creased and crumpled, but not ruined completely. Ah, the overwhelming relief, that feeling that a serious crisis had been averted, that the world might resume its normal course of events. My catalog had been found. OK, kids, let’s carry on.

That was then. This is now. I’m beyond all that, believe it or not. My organization efforts keep my misplaced-seed-catalog syndrome at a minimum. But this year, I seem to have developed another alien condition. It’s a rather foreign feeling to me. I think it’s called moderation.

During this seed-buying season, there are two forces at play on gardeners: that of temptation and that of moderation.

Temptation has spoken to me for years. You know, he’s the little fellow dressed in crisp overalls and a neat flannel shirt sitting on your right shoulder whispering into your ear as you peruse catalogs. “Try this, try that!” he says. Then, with a devilish grin, he says, “Try them all!”

His bulging biceps and wide-rimmed straw hat look positively alluring. He’s the picture-perfect gardener. His silver-plated spading fork glistens in the sunlight. As your eyes struggle to keep up with the ever-enticing descriptions in the seed catalog, he keeps you distracted with his whispering, and the fact that his sparkling spading fork is brand-new escapes you. After all, you’re the one who does the work, not him! He wouldn’t want you to notice that.

For the first time ever, the voice of moderation has spoken back. Though we’re newly acquainted, I’ve discovered that he’s the prim fellow on your left shoulder dressed in chinos, a clean white shirt and boat shoes, resting in a comfy lounge chair, surrounded by a tidy little container garden that’s blossoming perfectly in the summer sun. What’s that in his hand? My lord, he has time to enjoy a glass of ice tea! What is he looking at? Goodness, he’s actually enjoying the flowers and doesn’t seemed to be compelled to jump up and pull out that naughty weed that’s germinated between the pots.

Well, this voice of moderation has edged out Mr. Temptation.Yes, it’s true. I’ve reformed. I won’t be ogling every seed catalog over and over again to be sure I didn’t miss something that might soon become one of my favorites. That’s right, I’m only buying a packet of this and a packet of that.

I swear, no more than four packets of anything. I pledge that. And I won’t be ordering from a dozen sources, honest. I’ve pared it down to four or five. That’s it. It’s final. Moderation has triumphed.

Oh, what’s that? Excuse me, please. The mail has just arrived. I just need to trot out there to see if my first seed order has arrived. Have to make sure everything’s in order. Who knows, maybe they weren’t able to complete my order. Oh, darn. I might just have to find those dear seeds from another source. Shucks, I’ll probably have to make that new order worthwhile. Just toss in one of these, one of those.

Oh, Mr. Moderation! Thou art fleeting!

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, RR1, Box 2120, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.