Weddings and Spring and Wildflowers

Spring is in the air. The grass has greened up and is beginning to grow—almost overnight I’ve begun to think about lawnmowers and tune ups and refilling the gas can.

The moles that normally inhabit my front yard seem to have heard the news that there is to be a wedding in my backyard this summer and have begun new backyard excavations in earnest. Alas, I have no effective cure for this, so if you happen to have some mole “discouragement” technique you swear by PLEASE pass it on to me. I’ve tried putting spearmint gum in their excavations, with little effect. Then acting on the concept of creating an unwelcoming environment for them, I’ve even been known to relocate ---how shall I put this delicately---my pet’s “droppings” into the open mole hills. That also had little effect—other than give me a small amount of vindictive satisfaction and provide fewer hazards to unwary feet. The moles seemed NOT to be nonplused by my efforts, but I’m sure the neighbors are.

Crocuses have popped up in the yard at random intervals. Years ago they were planted in large swaths bordering the flowerbeds, but the workings of various pesky critters have thinned their ranks to no more than a handful of plucky survivors who have now relocated and are acting as an advance party for the rest of the garden, encouraging primrose and English daisy to follow suit, to leap the edge of their retaining stones and flower freely in the grass.

I’ve decided not to fight this concept but to embrace it. I’m planning to plant wildflower seed all around the perimeter of the wedding reception area, to give the impression that the entire area that was once a motocross track is now ---after being flattened and smoothed--- a beautiful meadow that we serendipitously decided to have a wedding in. And those aren’t WEEDS people, those are NATURE.

Early Spring Chores

It’s nearly---officially---spring! Tree branches swell with bud, and it won’t be long before my flowering plums begin to flower, unable to restrain themselves any longer. Already the warmer areas of the valley are showing color and I’m optimistic that a few warm days this week will do the trick here.

Robins wallow and splash in puddles, enthusiastic hedonists of the bath. My cats sit for hours in the window, watching and salivating and planning their next BBQ. They aren’t quite so brave when it comes to the neighbor’s chickens. In fact, if the chickens are out, pecking and scratching under my hedge, the cats are most decidedly IN. Chickens, it seems, are monsters to be avoided at all costs. The same cat that I once caught stalking a heard of elk is the same cat that now cowers up against the door, begging to be let in if the chickens from next door have wandered over.

The world is born anew in the spring, everything dresses up in fresh green finery with a be-dazzle of flower or blossom. It is a great time to get outdoors and spend a little time with Mother Nature. Heaven knows I have enough chores to keep me busy.

There are the usual seasonal chores of removing any dead debris, sticks and leaves and the like, that have accumulated over the winter. Now is a good time to do any early weeding that is required and to apply chicken poop--preferably the composted kind, not the kind fresh from the chicken, thank you very much any way, neighbor’s chickens, but I’ll pass—to the flower beds. I have a theory that if you just don’t feel like doing the weeding first and apply the chicken poo on top of the weeds ---I’m not advocating this, I’m just saying. That I may have done it. Once or twice. Or possibly more---Anyway. Should you find that you’ve ACCIDENTALLY forgotten to weed and have already spread the poo, you can comfort yourself with the belief that even the most tenacious of weeds will become fat and lazy and easy to pull if they’re fed such a rich diet.

That’s my story anyway, and I’m sticking to it.