I dont usually winterize the plants, they are all pretty hardy, and those that pretend to be, like the butterfly bush, will die in two years anyway, Ordinarily i do give everything a final coat of mulch, but I never did get back to the lawn. So I just leave what's there until spring. Which happened this week, with a roar and a nasty chuckle.
After a winter of relative idleness (apparently feeding stoves and napping doesnt count as work), the muscles have turned, if not to jelly, but to old lady legs and arms. it always takes about a week of bend-and-stoop-and-whine to get the muscle memory awake and working.
The only way I've found to do that without causing too much damage, is to set narrow-edged goals that leave room in either direction for continuing or stopping. The mental muscle memory appreciates this. As I carve out a chunk of garden that has an incredible amount of witchgrass already, I tell myself, "okay, to that plant. Ill do all these and then stop when I get there..." At first, it's a struggle to get to that point, but after a few days Im making bigger goals with tougher demands. It sounds complicated, but it's the only way I can force myself to keep going. In a week or so Ill be out there half the day without even noticing. Right now it's hell with a spading fork.
One of the few times I heartily wish for strong sons (or even grandsons)...