Spring Springing and Such Stuff

Robins are tugging worms from soft ground. The breezes have gone from being wind to being breezes again and now can be paired with the modifiers gentle, soft, playful... The grass greens up and begins to grow—almost overnight you begin to think about lawnmowers and tune ups and refilling the gas can.

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 mole and vole and pesky chipmunks have thinned their ranks to no more than a handful of plucky survivors 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.

Tree branches swell with bud, then burst into blossom or leaf, unable to restrain themselves any longer. Robins wallow and splash in puddles, enthusiastic hedonists of the bath.

The world is born anew in the spring, everything dresses up in fresh green finery with a bedazzle of flower or blossom. It is a great time to get outdoors and spend a little time with Mother Nature.

Spring, there is poetry in its very name.

Next week: Spring part II

Life is a Big Old Bed of Roses

I was thinking about Life, and Roses and a bed of roses and a rose garden and before you know it I had that old song from the 70’s stuck in my head: “I beg your pardon. I never promised you a rose garden. Along with the sunshine, there’s got to be a little rain sometime.”

But what if life really IS a bed a roses? There are beautiful moments that will take your breath away and there are sharp hidden things that will make you bleed unexpectedly.

There is new growth and black spot mold, beautiful blossoms and nasty aphids. It’s all there, jumbled together, the good and the bad, but if you take good care of your garden---and you’re lucky---you’ll have more blooms than bugs.

But sometimes, no matter how carefully you tend your garden all your efforts can be overrun by a herd of hungry, marauding elk, so there is that consideration to my clumsy metaphor. Maybe the “Life is a bed of roses” school of thought is pretty accurate after all—and that’s not even taking into to account all the “fertilizer” required to make your roses bloom. Sometimes life will give you a generous scoop of that as well.

Speaking of fertilizer, now is a good time to add some of the aged stuff---personally, I am a big fan of the chicken poop variety---to your flower beds. Cooler temps keep the odor down and a little sprinkling of fertilizer will discourage elk from nibbling on your new greens.

So far we’ve talked about roses and music from the 70’s, elk and chicken poop and I’ve even managed to work in both advice and a cliché or two. I think my work here is done. Go outside and play in the dirt, it’s good for your soul.

Festive Front Yard

The other day the sun was out and so was I—taking a stroll through my yard and looking at nature’s handiwork.

The grass is already starting to green up and grow, my snow drops are just finishing their peak blooming cycle and the crocuses are up as well. Right in the middle of my lawn.

It is kind of a cool look, to see there happy little purple faces shining up at me in random intervals all over the front yard and I’d like to take credit for it. But I didn’t do it. Oh sure I planted them originally…in large drifts that bordered the front flowerbed. But, over time, they have “migrated” to the middle of the front yard, in ones and twos over even larger clusters---all without the help of human hands.

I suspect chipmunks are to blame. Over time they have dug up and “stolen” my crocuses from their garden location and “hidden” them at random intervals in the front yard, to be feasted upon later. Luckily for me, the rodent’s memories are as rotten as their morals and the crocuses happily bloom in their new location. Or maybe that’s not what happened at all. Maybe there is some other rational for the phenomenon and I just watched too many episodes of Chip & Dale in my formative years.

No, I don't need to weed--that's not my flowerbed,
it's my front yard

Whatever the explanation, it certainly adds a whimsical, if somewhat wacky look to my landscaping.

Resolved

(This was written on the morning of Sunday, January 4th, what I now think of as "Before.")

Happy first week of 2015! A brand new year, new beginnings, a calendar full of fresh pages. It’s that time of year when I am chocked full of good intentions and eager to put them into practice. Early in January anything seems possible and my list of resolutions is impressive—I plan to be a much better person; one that is able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, can fit into the jeans she wore in 1979, a person who-- while working tirelessly for world peace-- still finds time to be kind to small animals and whose junk drawers are an enviable example of organization. Basically, a human unicorn—something that is nice to think about but probably doesn’t exist.

My true resolutions don’t usually come to light until about mid-month, it seems to take me about that long to narrow down what it is I truly want to change/accomplish. And interestingly enough, STOP PROCRASTINATING has never made my resolution list—just never got around to it I suppose.

Last year my resolutions looked something like this:

 1) Move More. 

2) Eat Less. 

3) Don’t Mix Up the First Two.

 4) Write Every Day. 

5) Go Back to School.

 6) Spend More Time Being Creative and Less Time on the Internet—alas, that one didn’t even make it to February, the internet is so very shiny... But when I added a new resolution in August:

 7) Get/Stay Connected with High School Friends-- my time wasted on Face Book suddenly became time well spent.

As far as resolutions go, last year I was more successful than not. I lost a couple of pounds, learned to like salad, wrote almost every day—committed to writing this column/blog—thank you for reading it! I went back to school and to my 35^th high school reunion.

 I don’t even HAVE any jeans from 1979—San Francisco Riding Gear anyone? And my junk drawer is alphabetized—which means I now refer to it as my drawer with Junk: A through Z. All in all, I'm calling Resolution 2014 a success.

Seeds

February is the perfect month to start seeds inside. By the time the weather is trustworthy enough to transplant your seedlings outside you will have an eight to ten week jump on the season if you start now.

Some people are lucky enough to have a greenhouse with all the bells and whistles. I happen to live in a house that is painted green and I start my seeds on the windowsill. Optimally, a south facing window is best, but I make do with a west facing window. My seedlings can get too leggy without enough natural daylight so I’ve found that replacing the lightbulb in my regular old lamp can make all the difference. Using a blue or “daylight” lightbulb helps. I leave it on until my seedlings get their ”true” leaves—for most plants that is the “third” leaf that appears after the first two sprouting leaves.

Starting plants from seed is pretty simple if you stick with a few basics. You need a proper starting mixture—I am fond of Jiffy pellet--- just the right amount of water, and plenty of daylight. A warm environment helps, and there are even special heating pads made for gardeners that will keep the roots of your tender seedlings nice and toasty. Do NOT think using a standard heating pad will work as well; just trust me on this.

Selecting the proper seeds can increase your chances of success. Using seeds from a few years ago can be risky. For the first time gardener I suggest starting marigolds. They are an easy grower, and not at all temperamental. As a wise man once told me, you can never go wrong with marigolds.

Daffodils

   I planted daffodils the other day. It’s late in the season—almost too late, really. But the ground had thawed and the sun was warm and I needed to believe that those papery brown lumps could somehow transform into sunny yellow harbingers of spring. So I planted them and hoped for the best.

   It’s best to plant daffodils in late fall, once the ground has cooled from summer but before winter freezes it solid. Sometimes though, life can be so busy you never find the time to go outside, sit back on your heels and dig into the good earth.

To plant a garden is an act of faith. To plant daffodils this late in the winter may be more an act of foolhardiness but I don’t care. Sometimes, all you can do is the best you can and let nature take care of the rest. So I planted my daffodils and I’m waiting for spring. I have faith that new growth will come.