The best laid plans ....

Ok, I know.   These 'new' seed packets all say '2012' on them.   That's because I don't have a picture of any 2013 seeds because I procrastinated ordering, and then got sick and couldn't lift a finger to do anything until just last week.

On April 1 it all started with a little tickle, which turned into a cough, which turned into the Dread Flu that kept me down and out for over 2 weeks.   Emerging from the Bubonic Plague and Spanish Influenza Spa and Weight Loss Clinic at last, I rushed to get my precious tomato seeds started before our short WoO was closed.   Happy to fire up my fabulous light cart, last year's Big Garden Splurge.

Despite a serious, ongoing case of the draggies, I've had to keep going and thus my recovery has been slower than normal.   I have scheduled extra massage, gulped down extra supplements and had extra acupuncture sessions, all in an effort to get back on my feet and out into the garden.

After attending a special intensive class a couple of weeks ago on Chinese pulse diagnosis, my wonderful TCM/acupuncturist had a field day reading and interpreting my various pulses.   Mmmm, she said ...... aha ....... interesting ........ and made some expected comments on lung, kidney and the like.   Then she turned to my other arm, saying, 'I'm excited to see what your liver is up to!'  and then she just started laughing.   'It's all over the place, very restless, up and down and all around.....'

Kind of like a carnival ride? I asked and she laughed again.  'Exactly' so she gave me some suggestions for calming and balancing the frisky organ, and a sheet to read about ways to act in harmony with the energies of Spring.

It talks about the need to move slowly and easily, transitioning from the still, more inward and inactive months of Winter.   It advises one to:  "Rest at night and get up early, stride freely through the courtyard, let down your hair and indulge in the leisurely feeling of a morning stroll;  this is how you should raise your spirits in spring..."

"Spring is the season of harmony.   This is the time to roam through gardens and forests, to sit leisurely in scenic kiosks and take in the tranquil sights of nature....."

I then noticed that these were the translated words of a 16th Century Chinese poet and 'medical scholar'.  Wow, I thought, this sounds like pretty good 450-year old advice.

Of course my favorite parts are about striding freely through the courtyard.   If only I had a courtyard!  and indulging in the leisurely feeling of a morning stroll.   So much more appealing than the constant underlying voice in my head to 'get out and start exercising!'  'lift some weights!'  'get fit!'   and do it NOW!

I also love the advice to roam through gardens and forests, sitting leisurely in scenic kiosks. I am wracking my brain to come up with local scenic kiosks.   Perhaps a covered bench in a downtown park -- or one of the trailside benches on Pilot Butte or the Deschutes River Trail would count as 'kiosks'.   Or possibly this is a cosmic hint that I should get to work building a gazebo in the back yard.

At any rate, I am coming into harmony, I can feel it.   The week of warm, sunny weather we've just had is helping.  Sprouting tomato babies are helping.   The scenic kiosks are beckoning later in the week, on our planned anniversary camping trip.   I'm pretty sure they are out there.   When I find them, I'll have photos.   Meanwhile, I'm off to the courtyard/back garden to throw a little dirt around.

(scenic kiosk of a previous year)

Instant Gratification, Small Recompense

It's still doing this most mornings:

Just a skiff of snow, the overnight temperatures right around freezing, or a few degrees below. As soon as the sun comes up, the snow melts and the spring day proceeds as usual: sunshine ..... clouds and a breeze ..... more sun ..... corn snow..... sun with corn snow ...... rain ...... dark clouds and gusty wind ....... sun ........ snowflakes ........ and so on. This is March -- the cruelest month (except for April, also cruel, and even sometimes May, and quite often June too) in Bend's spring season.

I don't know why anyone is surprised. It's the same very year. I guess it's just that by now, we are all pretty sick of grey and brown and nothing green for months and months and months. Deciduous trees don't leaf out until late April. Spring break, usually the 3rd week in March, is particularly evil. Traditionally -- and trust me, I've kept track -- it has the worst weather in the whole month. Why? Because innocent children all over the county (and their not-so-innocent but ever-so-deserving teachers and parents) have the week off for 'vacation'. So the weather gods, with whom I am normally on quite friendly terms, give a gleeful little giggle and send rain, snow, wind, hail, and many other kinds of wet, cold dreck to pummel Bendites.

Many head for warmer regions -- Hawaii is popular this time of year. My sweetheart heads to Majorca to ride his bike amid blooming almond orchards along the Mediterranean coast. However, for those of us who once again have plans to Get The Garden Going During Spring Break Week, we stay home, with hope -- foolish foolish hope -- in our hearts. And either break out the waterproof jackets and mud boots or dress in multiple layers of wool, including hats and gloves, and spend our days going inside when the rain/snow starts, then back outside when it stops -- over and over throughout the days.

I did get my raspberries pruned. And that is probably the only time I will feel smug until sometime in the fall. After March, I am always behind. I realize every gardener is always behind, because there are just too many things to do in the spring than there is spring to do it in. But still I feel guilty and rushed.

It wears on a person. It really does. BUT!!!!

My personal salvation often comes from the annual seed catalog-a-thon which takes place anywhere from mid-February (good Ned) to early April (bad Ned).

When I started gardening in 1971, I somehow hooked right into the seed catalog gardening lifestyle. Local nurseries had only minimal options and besides, I loved mail order. It seemed so .... pro ..... so 'in the know' -- something that I, as a newbie gardener, was desperate to achieve. The first catalogs arrived right after Christmas, and I spent months happily circling things, making lists, pruning them, adding things back on, and finally, writing checks, stuffing my precious orders into the mail and waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Most of the places I ordered from were on the east coast, and it took a minimum of 2 weeks to get anything. Some companies were even slower.

In 30 -- no, 40 years (!!!) of gardening, all that has changed. Local nurseries have much better options for seeds of your average vegetables and flowers. But even now, if I want tomatoes that really will bear fruit in our short growing season, I rely on my faithful catalogs to get the seed. What has really changed is the whole catalog thing.

First one, then another, then a few more, seed companies began creating websites. At first, there were holdouts. Even some of the companies that had websites didn't offer online ordering. You could browse, you could admire, but you still had to fill out that printed order form and join the ranks of the waiters. But I am here to tell you, online ordering is the best thing to happen to mail order nuts addicts like me.

ONLINE ORDERING! Oh heavens. Forget 2 weeks. Most places now have an envelope full of seeds in the mail by the day after I order. Instant gratification -- especially good for people like me, who tend to procrastinate. Even if I don't order until the day after the Spring Equinox, I still have my tomato seeds in time to plant them in my greenhouse before the end of March. Sweet!

So while the weather does its thing, I sit at my desk during the worst stormy moments, and fondle my new seed packets. Better than gold doubloons in a pirate's chest.

Yet another festive spring day

So much for my plans today for pruning my apple trees


root-pruning my raspberries


uncovering my artichokes


or working on my rock border


Honestly, what's a person to do with a weather forecast like this?


a) notice there is no mention of snow
b) notice it's predicted to be 61 tomorrow. This will probably happen. It is a nutty climate we have here.
All I can say is, it's a good thing I watered last weekend.

Sunny with a chance of frost

I should be used to March in the high desert by now. But no. Even after 35 years of gardening here, where the weather, year-round, could be most succinctly described as 'sunny with a chance of frost', I still seem to expect March to be all warm and springlike, with cavorting bunnies and chirpling birdies and soft, gentle rain falling on tender green shoots.

Wrong. Make that cavorting skiers, shivering birdies and intermittent snowflakes drifting down on last year's dead leaves. And gardeners darting outdoors between cold fronts to peer hopefully at the first brave crocus -- the small yellow ones always bloom first -- and then heading back indoors with a sigh of relief, to settle once more in front of the fire with a cup of tea and a lapful of garden catalogs. Merely for insulation, those catalogs. Of course I have all my seeds ordered, long since. Ahem.

For now, if I want spring I step into my small greenhouse and sniff that magical, early spring smell of blooming things. I've only had a greenhouse for 7 years now, and I still get a thrill when I walk into it. It's nature's promise during the cold, dark days of winter, that green will come again and all the containers will come back out onto the deck for their months of glory, come May or June.