“Why did I order this Whitney Crab? I can’t recall.”

Big, long boxes have begun showing up on my doorstep. First, there was the peach tree. Then the mulberry trees. No doubt the strawberries — all 100 of them — won’t be far behind. Oh, and I think there are cranberries and lingonberries coming too. UPS says that on Monday, the five antique crabapple trees are supposed to arrive.

No, honestly, I don’t remember why I just had to have five crabapple trees. You see, I have horticultural amnesia.

This malady means that on dull winter days, I find cool plants and trees available on websites and then I think I’d like to have them in my yard. A stronger soul might bookmark the page to savor virtually. But not me. I order them. Then I usually forget what I ordered.

In April, the magic starts. Like little perennials that have slipped your mind, they start appearing with warmer weather. I unwrap the boxes and discover all over again what I found on the web months ago. Sometimes I’m delighted. Sometimes I’m a little confused (see above, about those five crabapples). Still, if there’s a cure for my horticultural amnesia, I don’t want it.

Sometime the ground will thaw (really) and I’ll be very busy planting all my surprises. For now, they’ll have to hang out in the garage a little longer. That’s okay. I know where to find more cool plants on the web!

What ways do you have to cope? Wanna be in my support group?

How’d you survive the soggy weekend? Did you have to be out in the downpours and drizzle, or did you get to curl up with a nice catalog of seeds and bulbs and dream about the bee garden you’re going to plant next spring?

I’d intended to pull out the jungle of tomato vines in the garden and get some of my 200 daffodil bulbs planted. Oh yeah, and put the cider press together. The “mostly assembled” press arrived in 8 cartons and about 105 pieces. This could take some time…

Fortunately, I had a couple of buckets of apples that I’d intended to press for cider sitting around, so we spent the rainy days making 20 jars (two kinds) of apple butter. In one recipe, we used our own honey. I know they are both good, but taste is a bonus at this point. Cooking the apples filled the house with the most fabulous, fall aroma for hours. It was olfactory heaven!

It’s been a growing season a lot like that. I didn’t always do or get what I expected, but there’s been some wonderful discoveries along the way. Maybe that’s the point — to keep discovering things about plants, food and myself.

I’m grateful to have been able to share some of my adventures with you all, and I appreciate your ideas, advice and enthusiasm. Thank you for coming along and sometimes leading the way. Thanks to Jaime, too, for letting me earn my GreenGirl badge this season. It’s been a blast!

So, what did you learn in your garden this year? Here’s my list:

1. Red plastic mulch is alright, but it’s a pain to put down. Entertain the neighbors and decide to do it on a windy day.

2. Green plastic tomato supports were great in May, but burly ‘maters popped off their arms and made them look like weaklings by August.

3. If you plant several kinds of sauce tomatoes and they all grow, you’ll be standing in the kitchen at midnight making tomato sauce several nights a week in September.

4. Potato beetles suck.

5. If you want cucumbers, you actually have to get around to planting them, not just buying seeds and saying “I should get the cukes planted today” until fall.

6. Oregano is wonderful on homemade pizza. I need to grow much more of it.

7. You can grow peaches in Minnesota. At least this year.

8. Planting beans and peas is a nice way to feed the local wildlife.

9. Pollinators like honeybees need all they help they can get.

10. One of the most satisfying things I can think of is sitting down to dinner and counting up the ingredients that came from your garden.

Call me an optimist. In the past few weeks, I ordered a few apple trees (several crabapples and the unnamed apple known as Minnesota 447) from online suppliers. They won’t be shipped until next April, but already I can squint and see my own little orchard take shape. I already have planted Zestar!, Honeycrisp, Honeygold and Gravenstein trees and we have an established Jonathan tree — at least I think that’s what it is. Might be a McIntosh.

All of which means — in an optimist’s world — that I’m going to need my own cider press. I’m a big fan of the fresh, tart taste of cider. Warmed up or cooled down, it doesn’t matter. Add a little whiff of cinnamon, and all the romantic flavors and images of fall come rushing to mind.

So, of course, I ordered one. I got a “Homesteader” model from Happy Valley Ranch in Kansas. I talked to them this morning and they hope to ship it today. I could have it by Monday. And be pressing my own cider by Tuesday. Well, I could be if I actually had apples.

Visions of future apples doesn’t quite cut it. I have a neighbor with a small orchard I need to meet. And I stopped at a mom and pop place yesterday to inquire about buying their small apples in bulk. I think we’ll work something out that will benefit us both.

Have you ever pressed sweet cider or made hard cider? Got suggestions for varieties of apples to use? I’m eager for information or advice!

Saturday afternoon, the BF and I drove down to Chanhassen for a stroll around the Arboretum and a peek at the U of M AppleHouse. (According to MapQuest, it was only a 20 minute jaunt from our house in St. Louis Park… but we missed an exit and ended up at Valley Fair… Ooops.)

The first time I visited at the Arbortum, I was on a photo assignment for the Minnesota Daily and accidentally stumbled upon Prince, his then girlfriend Mayte and 12 of their closest friends. His security guard mistook my chunky wide angle zoom as a telephoto lens, and something told me to split the scene before I got the full paparazzi treatment. I was so rattled by the encounter (Who knew His Purpleness — and possibly my life — could be so short?), that I spent the rest of my visit in a total daze, oblivious to my beautiful surroundings.

Though many plants were no longer in bloom, the Arboretum was full of fall color — and blushing brides. Bright blue sky with no humidity or bugs, it was a perfect September afternoon to stand around in a big taffeta dress or a stinky rented tux. There were four wedding parties working the grounds and we accidentally wandered into two photo shoots. I wanted to make it 4 for 4, but Brian was anxious to get to the AppleHouse.

“I’ve had enough native grasses and bridesmaids, I want some apple crisp.”

We bought a family membership on our way out to the car, then drove another mile west to the home of the Honeycrisp.

I had envisioned the AppleHouse to as a little cottage run by clumsy, but endearing elves. However, in reality, the AppleHouse is a glorified machine shed filled with shelves of apples, tables of apple related brick-a-brack and a line of crabby apple fans. There were at least six different varieties, but many shoppers just made a b-line to the coveted Zestar and Honeycrisp apples stacked near the cash register.

Brian and I took our time reading the descriptions and laughing at the names, many of which were research numbers.

“Hey honey, wanna try some delicious MN 1850’s?”

“No, I’m into the 447’s.”

Eventually, we decided on a bag of Ginger Golds, a bag of Le Crescents (a variety from France which tasted like pears) and a bag of the mysterious MN 1850’s.

To be honest, I wouldn’t drive all the way to Chanhassen exclusively for the AppleHouse, but the Le Crescents certainly made one tasty apple crisp.