The first bulbs are out ...
the roses desperately need pruning ...
the sweet peas have gone crazy ...
the blueberrie are in blossom ...
the flowering almond needs something done to it before it takes over ...
the lawn is flooded ...
and I'm gathering seeds and ideas.
And yet, it's not Spring - not even early Spring - despite the rain (which we've had all winter), the wind, and the warmer temperatures. The danger of frosts is technically not yet past even if we've had relatively few this season.
I can't do any scattering of seed or transplanting ... no matter how much my fingers itch to get into the soil.
What I can do is, one, keep at that pesky onion weed so that it's hopefully all gone by the time I come to plant and, two, enjoy the bulbs while they last. Because, despite the rain and the buds and the daffodils, there's no guarantee that a wintry blast still doesn't have plans to come our way.
the roses desperately need pruning ...
the sweet peas have gone crazy ...
the blueberrie are in blossom ...
the flowering almond needs something done to it before it takes over ...
the lawn is flooded ...
and I'm gathering seeds and ideas.
And yet, it's not Spring - not even early Spring - despite the rain (which we've had all winter), the wind, and the warmer temperatures. The danger of frosts is technically not yet past even if we've had relatively few this season.
I can't do any scattering of seed or transplanting ... no matter how much my fingers itch to get into the soil.
What I can do is, one, keep at that pesky onion weed so that it's hopefully all gone by the time I come to plant and, two, enjoy the bulbs while they last. Because, despite the rain and the buds and the daffodils, there's no guarantee that a wintry blast still doesn't have plans to come our way.
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