A year ago, my forsythia were beginning to bloom on Palm Sunday. Granted, that was mid-April, so I guess we are right on schedule. Mother Nature seems unwilling to keep up with the liturgical calendar.

It is encouraging to see signs of spring everywhere, regardless of my continued wearing of heavy sweaters and long underwear.

Since last week, my yard has exploded with crocuses. One of my personal favorites is Pickwick, a purple and white large flowered one. It is especially nice in patches of the all-white Jeanne D’Arc and all-purple Flower Record.

At least once a year I have to whine about animal pests, so bear with me.

The deer came through and nibbled the just-beginning-to-emerge tulips. Luckily, I noticed sooner rather than later. I sprayed at least $20 worth of Bobex in a fit. That company has to be laughing all the way to the bank.

The bunnies are working on the crocus leaves. They do not seem to like the flowers (yet).

There are vole trails everywhere in the vegetable patch, especially under the hay mulch. My MSPCA rescue outdoor cat has his work cut out for him. He is irritating me as well. Apparently one of my greenhouses was a handy litter box this winter. Yuck.

The worst of all is my archenemy and most hated of all God’s creatures — the raccoons. I loathe them. After several days of finally securing the chicken yard from the Cooper’s hawk, a raccoon tore the wire window from the hen house and dispatched several hens. I think the mother takes the babies into a coop and teaches them how to kill.

Honestly, if I were a drinking woman, it would drive me directly to it.

On a happier note, I purchased several trays of violas. I prefer the small flowered ones over the large “monkey-faced” pansies. Popped here and there, they sure ring in the season.

I finally replaced the Christmas decorations with the aforementioned plants. What a welcome change.

There are several enormous piles of wood chips in the vegetable garden. I placed them in the fall to be spread in all the paths. Several feet into the piles, it is still frozen solid. I am anxious to rush things along anyway.

I planted Ching Chang bok choy, spinach and tatsoi outside in some areas that were covered with plastic. It had warmed the soil enough. The plants were beginning to languish in the super-hot greenhouse.

I started some peas in plug trays in the greenhouse. I would put them in outside if I felt up to outfitting myself in rain gear. The greenhouse seemed more sensible and cozy.

I find getting the peas up, and running away from the crows, keeps my sanity intact.

Fava beans can also be germinated indoors now and planted out in a few weeks. Like peas, they can take a frost.

I find myself thinking that planting early will rush the harvest. Peas come the beginning of July no matter what you do. It is good for the spirit to get out as soon as possible, however. I let go of the results and simply enjoy being in the dirt, even if my hands are freezing.

My mother’s advice when sick, bored, or depressed was, “Get up and do something, you’ll feel better.”

Now that both Senators Cruz and Paul have thrown their hats into the presidential candidate arena, we are off and running headlong into November of 2016. Have mercy.

They both seem fond of the expression “Take our country back.” I wonder what that means — back to the 1950s? Back from Obama? Back from northern liberals?

There was an interesting op-ed in The New York Times recently by David Brooks. He said that any candidate worth supporting should have some rudiments of the philosophy of Abraham Lincoln, i.e. a fundamental vision, a golden temperament and a shrewd strategy for how to cope with the political realities of the moment.

Ted and Rand have some serious work to do, especially in the temperament department.