Perhaps, I thought, people are tired of me whining about winter never ending. For each missing picture of the bleak landscape, I'd have to write a thousand words. The prospect was daunting. As a public service, I kept it to myself. Well, I did moan about it to family. They were so glad, they said "Thanks for sharing."
Lissa finally came to my rescue, as she does on many occasions. She fixed the various functions of the computer.Still, it would import but not share the pics.
Finally, I kept pressing keys and one day recently, I was able to share the blessed things.
March:
Some sad things that happened, that I won't dwell on, were the bees didn't make it through the winter. A fox snatched the two Barred Rock hens. The cistern pump gave out, leaving me without all the stored rainwater during an especially hot dry spring.
April:
Eager to start digging in the dirt, I transplanted some lettuce plugs I'd started indoors. It was a lovely sixty-degree day. The next day, we got five inches of snow. The 4-Seasons lettuce survived. They barely show up in this pic. Above them is the remains of last year's lovely compost of all things green plus straw and poop from the chickens. Nicely broken down over the long winter, it was doled out to spring plantings.
After a chilly start, the weather turned off dry and windy, making lots of dust from the road.Next came more winter. Mother Nature was toying with us. I planted the early veggies.
I put the compost cage up in a different spot, wired the boards to the fencing and began filling it with weeds. It looks tacky but works well. Gardening in Missouri is an assault on jungle growth. There's always plenty of stuff to toss into the cage. My kitchen scraps are limited to coffee grounds and filters plus orange rinds. The four chickens get everything else.
It was so dry that the potatoes and beans that I planted never came up. While I waited for some word from them, quantities of marigolds and tomato seedlings took over. The grassy weeds were laughing, knowing how the hard ground made it impossible to get them out. The rainfall total for the entire year in late April was two measly inches. Taking a chance that winter was really leaving, I put in three of the tomato plants I'd started in the bottom heat flat. They are now huge.
Unable to resist, I ordered and planted six more daylilies, bringing the total up to 41. I promise these will be the last ones, unless I find some spots in need of them.
May:
The bloom cycle was already later than usual because of a chilly April. It was late but the weeds were not. May was so hot and humid that the spring-flowering shrubs lasted barely long enough for me to bring a few bouquets into the house before they gasped and gave it up as a bad idea.
The peonies were especially pretty for several hours before a much-needed rain smashed their faces into the ground. My delight at having so many peonies was somewhat dampened by the huge dead-heading that came next.
We found a mess of morels down by the river. "Mess" is what they say here, and I never knew if it meant lots or a dinner in the military sense. In any case, they were delicious.
Many days in May were very hot, 96 degrees frequently. I retreated into the air conditioning in the afternoons, leaving the weeds to take over everywhere. The sun was painful on skin. I am a shade tree gardener. There seemed to be plenty of cloud cover at night when I wanted to get out my telescope and see stars.
Radishes and the incredible 4-Seasons lettuces from Pinetree Seeds were great.
Some Toy Choys were tasty one day and overrun by flea beetles the next. They are a problem in a dry year. The chickens gobbled them up.
If I were to chronicle all the weeds I yanked up and all the sweaty hours I worked in the garden, it would strain credulity. Also, it would cause some concern over my mental health. I'm a gardener; that's what we do.
