It’s spring. The weather is beautiful. Everything is in glorious bloom–all at once! Never have I seen so many things blooming at the same time. And I’m sick as a dog. I want to be playing in my garden, but all I’ve managed to do over the past two weeks is cover the blueberry blossoms before a (slim chance of) frost could bite them. Mind you, it’s most likely just a cold that is laying me low, but it’s a really nasty one. And spell check tells me I’m making a hash of this post, so I’m definitely not firing on all cylinders.
Before I got sick, I got a whole bunch of concrete blocks to make a raised bed and a truck load of dirt to put in it plus some extra dirt for the other raised beds. When the bare-root raspberry plants arrived, into that new dirt they went. This bed is wonderful. I can mow all around it and keep things from choking out my berry bushes, like what happened to their predecessors.
The leeks, started in late February, are now out of the house and into the dirt with the anti-bunny fencing securely around them. The tomato seeds started in pots are up and hiding indoors until the ground gets warmer. I did manage to get some seed potatoes and onion sets into the ground, and radishes, beans, peas, and so forth, but not much had come up yet. Except the weeds. Those are merrily presenting themselves for inspection. I will soon murder them. When I’m feeling better.
I could be puttering, pruning, weeding, planting herbs and more vegetables, enjoying my beautiful yard and neighborhood with all the flowering trees, blossoms, greenery. But I’m afraid before I drag myself off the sofa, all the flowers will be gone. Well, not all the flowers. The roses and spirea and the rest of the summer flowers will be coming soon. And there is always lots of gardening to be done. I don’t think I’ll miss too much. In the mean time, I think I’ll relocate to the porch, sip hot tea, and feel sorry for myself while I plot out my next garden moves. Add a cat or two to all that, and sickness is not so very bad. Especially when people have pity and bring me chocolate.
Image: Blossoms. By Marilyn Evans