I most assuredly did not! *wink*
Sorry, couldn't help it.
Oh, don't you deny it! ;-)
In May, that Lusty Season
a traditional round
Spring, that tarty trollop, reminded me of this:
In May, that lusty season,
To gather the flowers down by the meadows green.
The birds sang on every branch,
So merrily it joyed my heart.
They toyned so clean.
The nightingale sang on high joyfully,
So merrily among the thornes keen.
It's a traditional round from the 1600s. ;)
I know what you mean about wanting to get out in the garden and get things started. *sigh* I'm going to hold off on doing anything until the weather is a bit warmer on a more permanent basis before bothering. If I do anything now, I just get frustrated.
Glad I so inspired you - I love the round!
I'm glad to have the maiden grass out of the yard - I love the look, but it makes such a mess at this time of year! I've definitely had my spurt of energy for the time being and will be happy to go back into hibernation for another month.
Such is the joy of the South, where Spring has been sitting outside my window for a good two weeks begging me to at least come play. Some time around Mardi Gras she started flashing me her pansies, but I ignored her follow-up proposals (though I did continue watering said pansies, if you know what I mean).
Today, she had finally had enough. She started screaming at me. I'm usually very good at ignoring her, as every time she and I have a fling I end up with some sort of illness involving discharge* and vow never to see her again, but today was different.
Today, she started blowing her cool breath on me, and I knew I couldn't resist.
I spent a good hour and a half getting my screened porch ready for spring, sweeping, hosing the furniture down, finally getting rid of the chair cushions that needed disposal last season but that I thought I could get another year out of, getting room cleared out for the bajillions of baby herbs that are just starting to poke their heads out in the seed-starter tray in the upstairs window.
But like always, a romp with Spring left me ill.
Next time I dally with her, I'll have to use protection.
*Mucus, people! I have severe allergies to grass.
I completely sympathize with your inability to play with spring unprotected. Today I went out without antihistamines and survived relatively well, but it's only because nothing has really started growing yet. I am allergic to damned near everything that turns green and grows.
I know it's a fairly random (and possibly creepy) question, but approximately where do you live? Just because today two people I read who live in America have blogged "Ooh Spring!" in fairly short succession, and I'm wondering if you're anywhere near each other. (The other being the author Neil Gaiman).
No stalking will occur, honest!
Cleveland, Ohio area. You'd have a hard time stalkig me based on that. ;-)
I have no idea where Neil Gaiman lives.
Minnesota/Wisconsin or thereabouts.
I hear you on the "hack them to within an inch of their lives" theory.
I bought a house in London with 9 or 10 rose bushes in the front yard. The day we moved in my friend John who was helping us, pointed at the 4ft tall bushes covered in blossoms and said: "Those need help. I'll be back in the spring. It'll cost you lasagna."
In February he returned, armed with +5 Secateurs of Doom. While I created a magnificent lasagna in the kitchen, he slaughtered my rose bushes. He also treated them and the soil for black spot.
Every bush was reduced to 4 or 5 stalks about 6-8" long. I was devastated, but far too polite to say so. We ate lasagna and drank lots of good beer, so much so that John crashed on the couch for the night, and took the leftover lasagna home with him in the morning.
By the middle of May they were a couple of feet tall again and covered with buds and early blossoms. No matter how many blooms we picked (and we took bunches in to work to sit aromatically on our desks, had more in every room of the house) there were more. Till mid-November.
The next February, when he came to do the dreadful deed, I asked him where he'd learned this skill -- turns out he'd been a crematorium gardener while a student.
Yeah, she did that to my roses, too. I went pale. They were beatiful.
The fall-flowering clematis came down to knee high earlier in the week. It'll be back to 30' by autumn.
Maiden grass ... Paul James did a piece on that. Thought he said pruning saw. Check out his 'Gardening by the Yard' section on hgtv.com. Ah, here it is ... http://www.hgtv.com/hgtv/gl_plants_grasses/article/0,,HGTV_3607_1378119,00.html
Yup, he said pruning saw! :)
Garden report from slightly more inland than you -- the minor bulbs (crocus, snowdrop) are out in force. The major bulbs (tulip, daff) are thinking about it, leaf sprouts but no flower stalks yet. And the Witch Hazel is truly in bloom. If the Witch Hazel is truly in bloom (and smells amazing!), then it really is spring. We may yet see more snow, don't put out the tender annuals, but if the WH says it's spring, it really is spring.
Makes it a good time to start your tomatoes, your basil, and maybe some of your other memorial-day planting veggies ... yummm ... :D
I tried my pruning saw, to no avail. Probably because it's a crappy one.
I have a postage stamp yard and no southern exposure for starts. I am one of the unfortunates who buys starts from the greenhouse, but I do enjoy my wee space.
Spring, that tarty trollop, sashayed by this morning, waggling her hips and winking over her shoulder.
Some of us are entering autumn. They don't even have the decency to call it fall.
People are covering up. Courses at university are picking up, so people spend time studying rather than at the pub.
And Easter, the big fertility festival it is, is strangely out of place. Putting rabbits, enemies of all natural ecosystems here, strangely has adverse effects.
This bitter post brought to you by somebody who misses spring
Well, that's what you get for living upside down.
Beleive me, I know that regretful feeling from reading the spring posts of Aussie friends in October. I don't think I could ever adapt to Christmas being a summer holiday.
"a gardening woody" hehe... I seem to have one of those lately too. But it made me giggle to hear it put that way.
After the sun came out yesterday--and it's doing it again today--it was absolutely beautiful here in Indy yesterday, and we did some yard/garden stuff. Hopefully I can get a "real" garden going after that pathetic, rock-infested thing from last year, and the balcony garden from a few years before that...
Today, so far, has been devoted to spring cleaning. Or "Why isn't it spring yet?" cleaning.
Good luck! We just had drizzle today, but we did get out for a five-mile walk. It was damp and foggy, perfect for a long tramp.
I knew spring had sashayed by this past Saturday when I spent our four hour round of golf sneezing constantly. And repeating that during out visit to the zoo on Sunday to see the baby panda.
Stupid trees and their public orgies.
I mentioned to my husband that this was the first weekend of spring, screw what the calendar said, it was beautiful down here in Cincy too. I didn't do squat in the yard though, because it promptly rained on us the whole weekend! Now we have little grasslings coming up in the back yard, where that evil bush used to be (we killed the stump though, no fighting for life here). I need a wood chipper though, this is the year I reclaim the bottom of the hill.