Probably a decade ago Beth from Heather Gardens remarked how unusual the winter was that year. She said she spent some time weeding her garden. It no longer seems unusual or remarkable.

I have been weeding like a crazy person. The other day, I sat on a bucket and had to use a shovel to unearth some enormous clumps of grass growing in the vegetable garden paths.

A five-gallon bucket has become my stool of choice. It’s about as low as this aging body wants to go these days.

I’ve noticed several piles of snow — in the Cronig’s parking lot and at the Triangle. Even the 60-degree days do not seem to make much of a dent in them. I heard that last year they took bets on the Triangle pile as to the last date of its demise. That’s right, you off-Island readers — we year-rounders have a lot of time on our hands mid-winter.

I was thrilled to see several honey bees on my early crocuses. Too bad they aren’t mine but nonetheless they were a cheery sight.

Honestly, a person can rarely catch a break. I hauled several flats of onion seedlings into a cold frame from the greenhouse. I spent time and effort covering the frame with plastic. The next morning I discovered that the barn cats had spent the night tromping and sleeping on the flats.

Both the annual red poppies and cilantro have emerged. The cardoon has put on some new growth, blue flowers are all over the variegated vinca, and sedum is up everywhere.

The variegated vinca spent last summer in some ornamental pots. It looked good when I took those pots apart in the fall so I tossed it into the flower bed. Not only did it live but looks better than the plain green perennial one I’ve had for years. By the way, that plant cost $5 for a four-inch pot last spring at the nursery. Think I’ll simply dig it up and out it back into the pots in a few months.

On your travels, it is worth a trip down the Spring street side of the Tisbury School. There is a yard just loaded with purple crocuses.

I had a disturbing health incident this week. I have no interest in reading sell-by dates on foods. There was an open jar of sunflower seed butter in the cupboard. I grabbed it one morning to put on crackers for lunch. After about a teaspoon, I rethought my choice. Too late, obviously.

I felt unwell most of the afternoon and by evening began experiencing very rapid heart rate. I went to bed, didn’t die, and was completely fine by morning.

It provoked my thinking. I remembered reading about the Salem witch trials and the possible connection to a fungus found in the seed heads of rye grain. Supposedly it can cause hallucinations similar to LSD. The seed butter I ate did not appear or smell bad but caused a definite reaction. Word to the wise, toss out opened food from the cupboard if you cannot even remember purchasing it.

It has taken me a lifetime and I still have not erased my mother’s words from my mind: “Think about the starving children in China.” Remember it was the fifties? I think I used the children in Biafra on my children.

Think I’ll skip the Trump address to the joint session of Congress. I simply cannot bear it. How is it that Ken Starr was appointed as special prosecutor over the lie Bill Clinton told regarding sexual misconduct and the Republicans in Congress are hesitant to appoint one to investigate possible Russian involvement in our election? What a bunch of cowards. Even Bush ’43 came out in an interview and said we deserved some answers. This is the man who said nothing during the eight-year Obama administration.

Finally, this week Trump commented how we used to win wars when he was in high school and college. I’m his age and do not remember a big win in Viet Nam. This is the guy who called John McCain a “loser” because he was captured.

Donnie got a doctor’s note to say he had bone spurs so he could avoid the draft.

I was not a fan of our involvement in the Southeast Asia conflict but hold in the highest regard those who served there.

D.J.T. holds no one in high regard except himself.