Another old New England expression about gardening vagaries in this neck of the woods, not necessarily exclusive to Springtime but most apt I suspect. If I have to explain the wryness of this saying, well, forget it..
So I thought of it today as I turned sodden sod, (yes, there's still snow lurking around), trying to get a jump on my schedule. I'm extending, enlarging some beds in hopes of having a running start by May. An ambitious plan for this old gal but what the heck? I added some potash to my future parsnip area cause boy am I in love with those babies. Following that I made a few jury rigged wire portable 'garden weeds holders' aka compost makers. After those high points an experience of great pride was felt knowing what a super rock crop I grew over the Winter.
On my list also is to hobble together some trellises for the climbers, (and there will be alot of climbing this summer), and also to save space. I kept eyeballing all sorts of junk to use for this purpose but my imagination often far exceeds my actual skill level.
Since virtually all my gardening is done on slopes I have to get creative about using space. I often feel envious of flat gardens but there is an upside to having everything on slopes and in raised beds and that is that the melting snow waters and rains drain downhill. I am continually amazed at what survives the flooding by providing a bit of drainage.
I plant very tightly so this is also a time of year my over anxiousness needs to be kept in check for fear of scraping, poking, ripping out or otherwise torturing those plants and self-sowers just below the surface. I constantly remind myself I would not have left an empty space anywhere...except, didn't I move a bunch of stuff around last Fall? Sheesh.
So, it promises to rain for a few days. Yippee.
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