Flower Cache

I think it is safe to say that we have survived. I drove, over a thousand miles by myself with four wild kids in a mini-van and made it back alive. The weather here at home is mild, all the mini-snowfall we had this past weekend has melted away to mud and the yard is filled with migrating juncos and robins. There is a pair of fawn colored wrens investigating the tree hydrangea outside the kitchen window for nesting. Yesterday when the boys and I settled back into our normal groove and went out for a pre-nap neighborhood promenade.

We wandered into a little forgotten section of our nieghborhood where a  scrub woods and a scruffy trail runs behind some of the houses, a favorite secret ramble of ours and we found Spring. How have I lived here two years still never seen this carpet of early spring crocus and snowdrops?????

WOW! I was open-mouthed and the boys were positively giddy. It was pretty tough to tear ourselves away and head back up the hill to our house for naps but I can guarantee that there were sweet dreams.We're gonna make it, y'all. I'm off to unpack the pea seeds in honor of St. Patty's Day approaching.

The First Day of Spring!

In honor of the first full day of spring, a few local florals.
Love to see that blazing color showing up again. Shades of grey are all very well for pencils in my evening class ,but wow, do I love me some zip in real life. Nothing like a good blazing-monarch purple crocus with those absurdly neon stamens to wake you right up, eh?

I thought I'd leave you with a lovely snippet from "The First Spring Day" by Christina Rosetti.

I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.

(read the rest of it here)

Congratulations all, technically, you've survived winter!

Hanging On To Plums

Image by pchgorman via Flickr

It is skunk cabbage season. And now that we don't live right next to a wetland I have to seek out my skunk cabbage experiences. It is the very first of the spring flowers...it beats out the crocus and the snowdrop and every daffodil in town, literally melting the snow and ice away with the sheer force of its will, making a hole in the chill and bringing blossoms to a snowbank. I will have to take a little expedition to find some soon.

I found some crocus the other day, without even trying! Look at that lawn! It is colder this spring than it was last year at this time (blogging helps you keep track of these things) so it hardly feels like time to look for blossoms. I am still immobilized half the morning by the chill and donning sweaters with impunity. But, there they were, a light frosting of lilac over the grass...all the same. Pardon the poor photograph, such faithful small friends were begging to have their photo included even if it wasn't as clear as one might have hoped.

I do hope that it warms up soon...I could go for a good 60 degree day with beams of sunshine. I am sort of sick of toasting my mitts on mugs of tea although it still seems like the way to survive. I hope we get some pools of sunshine on the sunroom floor sometime soon, the kind a sleek kitty would curl up in for the rest of the afternoon. You know....that is, if we had a sleep kitty.

And the sap is running! One virtue to the chill weather. I am sure the tree-tapping crowd is glad that it is staying cool enough to keep the run going. And I do like my supply of local syrup to be deep so I even benefit directly in a fringe sort of way. We saw sap buckets on the trees at the farms we visited yesterday  when we went on a milk/egg run on our naptime drive. Small signs of progress. Nice to see those.

And then there are the plums. This isn't terribly local but it makes me happy. Every year, these pointed tipped plums come tumbling in from Chile. They come in fire colors, predominately yellow but hints of gold and crimson and hot orange, especially emanating from the tip.  They ripen beautifully on the counter-top and unlike most any stone-fruit this time of year, they actually gush juice when bitten into. I discovered them a couple of years ago and look forward to late winter every year when I know they'll appear again in a small basket at my local Whole Foods. This year I found out that they are called lemon plums. So lovely to know the names of things you love. I'll take every little gift I can to tide me over. Drip on, sweet plums, drip on...you gotta get me through till April! (Note to self: Must go get some more this weekend...we're running low for some strange reason!)

Related articles

• A warm welcome in a cold climate (telegraph.co.uk)
• John Switzer commentary: Ecological center gets all sappy this time of year (dispatch.com)
• A plant dissolves ice!! (xeniagreekmuslimah.wordpress.com)
• Little Blooms of Hope (adnelg.wordpress.com)

Drowsy, Rainy Day...

Am feeling so foggy suddenly: slow moving, sleepy, sluggish, and a little mentally fuzzy to boot. Didn't do a lot today except stay in and watch the rain mist down on the daffodils, fold a little laundry, wash dishes and read books with the boys. OH yes, and nap. I napped. I never nap but, I couldn't seem to help myself, bed was calling and wow was it hard to get up afterwards.

The baby has settled pretty low, my lung capacity doesn't seem to be so affected and although I need smaller portions than normal at mealtime, I'm not having heartburn or any other symptoms of Baby Bird floating high. I am having quite a lot of practice contractions and feeling like I have to run to the bathroom every few minutes. Just not a lot of room left in the lower quadrant anymore.

The weather is feeling more and more springlike too which makes me think more and more about how close I'm getting to the end. I'm in my 33rd week this week and A plays poking games with Baby Bird in the evening and in the morning I watch the pussywillows floofing out into pale yellow baby chick fuzz on the tree outside our bedroom window. The crocuses are done and faded to ragged bits of grey petal amongst their stripey leaves, on to the daffodils and hyacinths! Just this weekend the forsythia really opened and I expect we'll be seeing the tulips any minute. We're to the part of the year where this quote goes round and round in my mind a lot:

“First a howling blizzard woke us,
Then the rain came down to soak us,
And now before the eye can focus –
Crocus.”
- Lilja Rogers

As I type I can hear the local spring peepers churring up a storm outside just beyond the top of our driveway. I am happy to have it really settling in to spring weather and starting to feel the pressure to get baby plans all squared away, I'd like to have things pretty much figured out before we leave for California in just a couple of weeks.

All is a bit of a foggy muddle in our home at moment, A is all about taxes, I am thinking about Baby and the boys are as focused as possible on getting outdoors every time the door opens.

Green Thoughts

Was outside again today, rushing to get things in the ground before the rain we're supposed to have for several days began. Ended up getting all the stuff planted that I wanted which felt really good but, I do have to admit that by the end of it all the boys and I were mud from head to toe and being thoroughly misted on which meant that we were also pretty soaked. No real harm done, just the first warm spring rain in our hair. What's good for the crocus is good for the boy.

We peeled off the muddy socks and shucked our shoes and padded in for story-time snuggling under a couch throw before lunch and nap. Now we're all frizzy hair and coziness and I can't get the garden wheels to stop turning. Of course, it doesn't help when such tantalizing packages are arriving on my doorstep.

So, yes, I placed an order for a few more perennials, and started making lists of things to change in my garden this year:

"Do not allow nicotiana to flop all over the sweet william. Support rings or else!" and "This fall be sure to order regale lilies and magic lilies." and also "Make sure to work sunflowers in somewhere." along with such helpful bits as "Underplant the black-eyed susans with heliotrope!" I am making lists of all the things I need to do, ("Move strawberry babies, pull garlic from last year, divide lemon verbena, trim sweetheart rose, add mulch to box bed, and tie fence more securely to stakes")

I am honestly a terribly disorganized gardener. I keep no notes about what I bought from whom which year or what its Latin name is and I never label anything. I buy things willy nilly without mapping out the colors, heights or flow of my garden patch and just plan on moving what doesn't work when it starts to bother me. I don't see myself getting a whole lot more organized, there are too many other things I want to do in life and frankly, I get along alright in spite of my jumbly ways. But, this year for the first time I thought, "You know, I could actually see keeping some sort of a garden journal." Not a terribly particular one mind you but, maybe the sort of place where I could put these lists and then later in June jot down what is putting on a splendid show and what plants I still am hoping to grow before I die (moonflowers, parma violets, sweet alyssum) and what new successes I've had this year (scented sweet peas, angel's trumpet, heliotrope, carrots and pineapple sage). That I could see being quite useful. A very free-form, sort of dirt-smudged place to keep my garden mucking notes, somewhere where the bits would all be bound together with a solid spine and recognizably backed and fronted with a nice botanical cover design of some sort. Wonder where I should start looking? Do any of you keep garden writing year to year?

Life is Back to Jolly!

                          Amorous couple frogs, who are singing                       

like crazy in our local waterways as of today!

My new earrings for golden sunshine days, glowing bee hives with 

one tiny bee on top

      
This morning when we came back to our house to check things out, the living room light was brightly blazing. What a fabulously welcome sight! I don't think I've ever gone through a power out that was that long before. I realize that lots of people in the world go through life without these modern conveniences but, it sure feels relieving to have it all worked out for us again. Home feels extra cozy, the sunshine feels extra warm and even my own piles of laundry, dishes and rotten food in the refrigerator feel kind of happy in some strange way. I am a person who loves her own little space.

Sap buckets are out at the local farms!

Happy boy!

So, we were back in our own home together for a traditional Irish dinner: corned beef, cabbage and potatoes. I meant to make Irish soda bread but, it didn't happen...but, really, it doesn't matter...we had our own meal, at our own table and the stove works and the washer runs and the computer is humming away in a friendly way. So, we all forgot to wear green and there wasn't a shamrock in sight but, A read us all the Wikipedia entry on St. Patrick and we told Ru very seriously that he was a genuine Irish boy and we celebrated with clear and thankful hearts in the warm glow of the lamp over the dining room table.

Wonderful boxes, stashed in a local greenhouse. 

 

Not to go on in an overly excessive way but, the weather could also not be more excellent: sunshine, blazing blue skies and 64, 65, 67 degrees depending on who's thermometer you're using or what patch of sunshine you're standing in. So lovely. We're thinking about a picnic dinner tomorrow night...spring is really here. Time to take the paper snowflakes off our windows and watch for our crocus to bloom (they're budding out now!).

So tally-ho everyone! I'm off and humming in my regular groove and I'll see you all in the morning!