More spring photos

Here are some shots of the garden this weekend.

Close up of open tulip. Becky, this is the color for you!

Tulip patch...the side the groundhog didn't eat.

I love the focus on the water droplets!

Close up of the flowering ajuca groundcover.

Lamb's ears with ajuca in background. (And a dandelion, arg!)

Disappointments today.

One of last year's groundhogs.

Unlike yesterday, which was an enjoyable and productive day in the garden (more on this below), today has been disappointing for a few reasons.

1) Some critter, likely a groundhog, has eaten more than half of my yet-to-bloom tulip buds. I have a few choice expletives for this critter. Out comes the Havaheart trap. The bloody bastard better be caught tomorrow, though I don't know if I really want to have much of a heart when it is caught. We caught five groundhogs on the property last spring (and Hubby drove them to the nature preserve 10 miles away) and afterward had no problems. But, other than the tulips, which are short-lived anyway, I fear for our new veggie garden. We'll have to put a fence around it. Goodie, another chore to add to the list.

2) Speaking of the veggie garden, my goal this week was to plant all the cold-weather crops. But our top soil was delivered in the rain and turned into clumps. And those clumps have dried into little balls of gravel consistency. I bought one of those rolling, spiked garden cultivators (similar to the Garden Weasel) and that helped, but at 25 weeks prego, I tire easily. Working that tiller was another unpleasant task today, and despite all my elbow grease, the soil was still like little pebbles. I planted rows of carrots, radishes, and beets and covered them with a layer of peat moss before the final layer of pebbly soil. Hopefully when it rains again, the soil with break up and soak down to the seeds appropriately.

3) And what's with this freakin' freezing weather? It was 35 degrees this morning. I was working outdoors with long underwear under my clothing plus my winter coat. I hate the cold. It's the end of April for godsakes—how about some consistent sun and 60+ degrees! What a waste of spring break, to deal with winter weather.

But enough complaining. Here's what I did yesterday: planted a flat of marigolds (bought, not grown), five achillea bare roots, four blue forget-me-not plants, and 12 carnations. I also bought two flats of impatiens to plant in giant pots this weekend. But before I do that, I have to get Styrofoam blocks to fill the bottom of the pots—I don't want to fill giant 14" pots top-to-bottom with soil when impatiens really only need a few inches. For one, garden soil is expensive and I would need almost a whole bag to fill each of the seven pots. Secondly, the pots would then be 60 pounds each! I would like to be able to move them if necessary.

So after these two afternoons outside, I am exhausted! Bending over with this belly is becoming more than uncomfortable. Whew. Hubby is going to have to help me with the heavy-duty garden tasks, like ridding my partial-shade garden of grass. But that is definitely another day.

Time warp

Apparently my house resides in some sort of time warp where vegetation grows incongruous to every other property in our area. My garden experiences at least a two-week delay in bloom time, which is frustrating when you are anxiously awaiting the dead winter to be replaced by a palatte of color. (I know gardening is an exercise in patience, but seeing daffodils in every yard other than your own is a bit torturous).

So speaking of daffodils, two blooms finally appeared yesterday (I probably have 70 bulbs planted in a border along one of our rock walls). Hurry up already! I completely don't understand it either, because my property has excellent loamy soil and full sun, compared to my neighbor's properties. And I water meticulously (when it is not raining every other day like it currently is). What's the hold-up?

This bloom delay wouldn't be so bad if it my flower season was two weeks longer than everyone else's, but alas, I get screwed by the fall frosts, which end everyone's gardening at the same time. So while my daffodils will technically last beyond those that I've been envying for the last several weeks, I might as well not even bother with autumn plantings. By the time they finally show their colors, winter will hit. Boo.

Dear Spiders

Dear Spiders,
Your home is outside. I have a lovely garden for you to live in, if you haven’t noticed. Please eat all the bad bugs that attack my plants rather than venturing into my house. I assure you, there is a limited food supply indoors. I am confident that my house does not harbor bugs (other than you, apparently) and neither your webs nor hunting excursions will result in the delicious array of insects you desire. I do not want to kill you. Really. I value your assistance in garden maintenance. But here is your official warning: if I find you in my bathroom, bedroom, or shoe, you will regret your decision to bask in the steady 68-degree climate set by my thermostat.
Best regards!

This note is inspired by my dependable sign of spring: arachnid appearance in my house. This morning I found a small brown spider in my laundry basket, hiding amongst the clothes I have yet to put away. No biggie—easily remedied. This was not an aggressive or imposing spider, rather one that would prefers to run and hide than meet his end with a close-up view of my sock-covered hand (which I'm sorry to report, happened anyway). Only moments later, I am taking a shower and I discover a real beast—a black house spider—hiding on the underneath side of my soap shelf (only noticeable because it was at eye-level). Its body was about the size of a quarter and plus the added diameter of its legs. EEK. Here is the edited description according to the Orkin website: 

"Otherwise known as the window spider, the black house spider appears dark and strong. The thorax of the black house spider is lustrous black and females of this species are commonly twice as large as males. (And here's the best part.) Although their bite is not lethal, humans may experience negative side effects from a black house spider bite. Vomiting, muscular pain, weakness, nausea, sweating and shortness of breath occur if a bite is severe. The bite itself is noticeably painful and commonly swells. However, black house spiders rarely attack humans; they bite only when threatened."

Could "threatened" include rapidly approaching it with a shoe-like object intent on its destruction? I have never been a fan of spiders, but I have at least outgrown the paralysis that used to strike whenever I encountered one. And because I am now a mom, I have developed the super powers necessary to protect my baby at all costs, which includes pushing my goosebumps aside and springing my attack. (If I left the spider until Hubby came home, who knows where is would hide, ready to frighten an unsuspecting toddler. It would certainly not still be under the soap shelf, patiently awaiting its demise.) 

So armed with a scrub brush (a shoe would not fit between the shower shelves) I got him, but not without getting the willies. Black spiders DO notice that an attack is coming and make a break for it just as you are about to strike. Black spiders also crinkle up into a ball and play dead, so when I removed the brush, thinking the job complete, the little critter, sprang into action once again. After two jittery attempts, it was still not dead, but I finally caught it in the bristles and flushed him. Two flushes just to make sure it wouldn't climb out of the bowl and lay in wait behind the toilet seat to exact its revenge upon my tush. 

But spiders aside, it looks like spring is actually on its way (though the 30 degree weather and wintery precipitation today seem to indicate otherwise.) Thank goodness!