I’m a Yankee, through and through! Last Tuesday’s rain and chill suited me just fine.
I was all set to complain about the weather this week—extremely dry with my least favorite—ill winds!
I do not know my caterpillars nor do I wish to! I have the disgusting tiny ones hanging by threads from all my apple trees.
I wish I had a couple of bucks for every time I complained about the lack of rain. So much for April showers.
How can a long, hard winter and a late spring turn a couple of nice days into full-on garden madness? I got behind practically the day I started.
Where does a garden columnist start? There is so much emerging life all around. I think May has been called high spring. It is impossible to keep up.
When it comes to birds, what I don’t know is a lot. I keep promising myself that I will take up bird watching when I’m old.
I’m not a big fan of poetry, but I am fond of rhyming songs and hymns. There is a verse from the Oxford Book of Carols that fits the season.
The deer have nibbled the just emerging tulips, bunnies are working on the crocus leaves, vole trails are everywhere in the vegetable patch.