Spring is definitely here. Just ask the crocuses, and the bees that are finding sustenance in them.
If you don’t believe the crocuses, ask the snowdrops.
The hellebore believes it also, has jumped onto the bandwagon.
Okay, okay. I realize that all of the flowers mentioned above will go off about how it is spring at the drop of a hat, or I should say the raising of a few degrees. But here is an impeccable source. My rhubarb is sprouting.
And so is the rose verbena.
I have sedums popping up all over the place, the foliage of the naked ladies and the colchicums is out, feeding their bulbs for later. Of course I have daffodil foliage and buds up, and the species tulips are making promises.
A few days ago the grackles arrived, I’m expecting the brown thrashers just any minute, as well as the house wrens. Out in the Conservation area, the bluebirds are out in force, enjoying the awakening insects.
My order of plants from High Country Gardens arrived safe and sound.
They are all planted now, and Jim helped me measure the Petite Prairie so I could make a proper map of it. The old one was not scaled right and besides I have changed it since I last mapped it anyway. It has become clear to me that if I wish to know what the heck I have planted in my gardens, I’m going to have to write it down. That “I’ll remember what this is” thing isn’t working for me. . .and the older I get the worse it works.
I have been suffering from a pulled piriformis, something I did back in the big snows in January when I slipped and caught myself. It has been nagging at me for a long time, and I went and got a massage and told my therapist about it. She woke it up big time, it stopped nagging and started screaming, to the point there were a couple of days where it was about all I could do to do a few massages and lie around moaning the rest of the time.
Finally, last night Jim suggested that I avail myself of the poppy pods we have saved, and made me a pot of tea. Not only did the tea alleviate my pain, it made me relaxed enough to sleep deeply all night, relaxed the muscles in my butt that were hollering so loud. Today I can actually get around quite well, the spasms seem to have eased and I believe I am on the road to recovery. The poppy seems to have a very long lag time in my body though, I still feel a little levitated.
Now, I need to map the rock garden so maybe I’ll remember what all I have planted there. This is easier said than done, since I have some passalong sedums that I never knew the name of when they were given to me, and one of the dianthus I ordered from HCG turned out to have a bonus dianthus living with it, one whose name I (of course) do not know. But I’ll have a pretty good handle on it.
Smokey is still with us, which amazes me completely. I did not expect him to survive this last winter, but he soldiered on. He has gotten very slow indeed, but he still prefers to walk out to the pond for his morning drinks, has taken to sleeping on his bench under the pergola again now that the weather has moderated, and is still adamant that we should get our lazy butts out of bed by 7 a.m., the better to feed him, of course.
I need to get my peas planted, so I’d best get off the computer now.