What a lovely little snowfall on the first day of spring. As usual, the weather people got all worked up and forecasted a big storm with six or more inches. I wish I had their job. They can be wrong most of the time and still keep the work.

Monday afternoon was particularly nice. The sun came out and crocuses and daffodils were blooming their little heads off above the snow cover.

I had set out several flats of onion seedlings the previous day and neglected to bring them into the greenhouse that evening. They lived and all that showed were tiny pencil-lead-sized greens. They had frozen a few times in the greenhouse but this was their first major weather event.

I like to start onions from seed. They seem to do better than either the sets or plants. Of course it is a major time commitment. I painstakingly separate the tiny plants into a larger flat before transplanting outside in perhaps a month.

On St. Patrick’s Day I noticed my Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) emerged. They jump all over the garden and put on quite a display. They are one of the large (over two feet tall) early spring plants.

I like to plant peas or potatoes on St. Patrick’s Day as a shout out to my Irish ancestors. I did not get to it this year. In my perfect world I could do everything. I don’t live in that world.

I did start some peas inside. If I get them a couple inches tall before transplanting, the crows leave them alone. Not so the bunnies — a sprinkling of dried blood or a spritz of Bobbex should deter them.

I planted some bright yellow crocuses near the entrance to the chicken yard. It makes me think of egg yolks and amuses me.

Violet and I went to Symphony Hall recently to see Joshua Bell and the Academy of St Martin in the Field. It was an amazing performance and we had seats right over the stage. Talk about good luck.

At any rate I noticed a few things in Boston. The Magnolia soulangeana was blooming. That has to be at least two weeks ahead of us. Sadly, the tree I saw had two ugly plastic bags caught in the branches.

Speaking of bags, I got all judgemental in Whole Foods. Marie says her son Sam and friends call it Whole Paycheck. We had lunch and sat near the check-out. Maybe one in 20 customers had brought in their own bags, and the cashier doubled up the paper bags for each customer. I found it so odd that, of all places, there was not more civic awareness. At down-Island Cronig’s, where I shop, probably one in 20 people does not bring their own. Granted, they charge a nickel a bag, but hey if that’s what it takes. Sometimes the pocket book makes our decisions for us.

My quince tried to bloom in January. It froze hard one night and killed all the buds and now they are all sad and dead instead of their usual spring display. The plant is still alive, but with no color this year. Oh well, such is life.

Oh, also in Boston, to my horror, I saw a large island of roses all tied up in hideous electric tape. I guess the “gardener” thought it was winter protection. Yikes. It was there right on the street for all to see. It was worse than things I encountered in my Appalachian upbringing.

I started turning over some garden beds and adding lime. I came across several clumps of garlic that had been missed during last year’s harvest in July. Each of the cloves in an individual bulb had sprouted into a new plant. I separated them and replanted each single plant which should grow into a bulb by mid-summer. One can never have enough garlic. I used some of the greens in a stir-fry.

Why, oh why, do we have to suffer through all Trump all the time. It seems so unfair that he gets so much free media coverage. None of the other candidates seem to matter, especially the sane and/or soft spoken ones. It does seem crazy to feed the elephantine ego of such a narcissist. Wow, next time I’ll share what I really think!!!