Last year I got a big fat lecture from John the nurseryman about planting my tomatoes too early. He took me outside and pointed north.

“See that mountain? It has snow on it. You can’t plant anything in the ground until the snow on that mountain is gone.” Apparently this is local lore.

(Silently: “Whatever…”)

“What difference does it make, John? What’s the worst thing that can happen?
They freeze and I have to start over? My intuition says it’s not too early and it will be fine to put them in the ground now.”

So I did it anyway, and, as it turned out, I had really early tomatoes.

As you know I’ve been steeping myself in Celia Thaxter tales, and I can guarantee you that by this time of year back in New England her house was full of (get this) egg shells, all split in half, cradling seedlings which she put on a boat in spring and lugged ever so gently to her precious Appledore Island where she put them in the ground. And she would most certainly have been paying attention to whatever signals she had that allowed her to know it was Time.

I’d be interested to know what signals you all pay attention to that correspond to John’s planting clock, btw.

But, I am not a woman who particularly pays close attention to that sort of thing. I am a risk taker and I follow my own inner urges, for better or worse, and when you see the photos I took in the last few days, you will understand that the Planting Urge is coming up strong. And no wonder. Look at this!
Remember those daffodils in blossom just two weeks ago?

I mean what is a woman to do when she goes into her yard and sees this??

White voluptuous camelia, seducing me into thinking seeds, growing things, DIG-GING.

I’m not the only one. OMG, everyone in this town is carting around a shovel, a rake or pruning sheers. We are like ants, harkening to unbearable cabin fever and warm lovely SUN, and we are clearing, cleaning, building, pulling up, preparing for. It’s just astounding. It’s all around me.

In the midst of this the robins have descended. I don’t know where FROM. I’ve never seen them before in the two years I’ve been here. But they are coming in in droves and swooping about thirty, forty at a time. They probably ate a season’s worth of worms out of my back yard. I had mixed feelings about that, frankly, particularly when I discovered later it just doesn’t go IN. It comes out.
I was not familiar with how poopy robins are. Did you know?? My goodness.
Maybe it’s good fertilizer, though, who knows? They certainly had fun.

Speaking of fun in the back yard, Ruby is beside herself about being able to swim in her tub again. And for Ruby, swimming just goes hand in hand with mud. I don’t know where she made that particular connection because she came to me at age two. But that is her programming. Water. Mud. Once she’s wet (as in soaking) she wants to D-I-G. Here is the evidence of that little game:

But does she not look deliriously happy? And do her eyes not say, “Oh, Mommie,
I am having so much fun!!” So scolding is out of the question. I simply took her picture and said quietly, “I’m collecting evidence, Rube.”

More evidence that spring is nearly upon us is found in the quince in full blossom:

I will definitely try the recipe Loma sent earlier.

As if that were not enough, the first pink camelias are out.

Are they not just fabulously spectacular? Oh, my goodness. They are. Glorious!

And remember those little yellow crocuses I was saying good morning to every day when I walked the doggies in the rain? They are so here.

So you can see what I’m up against. Life is pushing its way forward on every front. It is lovely. It is light. It is love. Praise be!

Love and early spring blessings,
Kathryn xox

Posted on February 16th, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 19 Comments »

Today is a special day, what is known as a cross-quarter day on the solar calendar, as February 2nd marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It sounds promising, does it not? This day was marked by the ancient Irish as Imbolc, also known as St. Brigid’s Day, and later by the Christians as Candlemas, so the day holds a special place in many traditions.

So the skies rumbled and the snows came,
And everywhere down through the centuries of this gray night,
Came women gathering to pray,
And to sink their hands into the dark earth.
They gathered seeds and prepared them for planting,
They meditated in the icy darkness,
And they celebrated the lambing of the first ewe,
To hasten Spring.
And when through the earth they felt the stirring,
They sang songs encouraging the tiny seeds to grow.
In the dark, wet soil you can smell their work still;
They are digging along beside us,
Listen!
The north wind carries their song across the snow,
This Imbolc night.
As the earth prepares for Spring,
Wise women gather in circles to await the promise of new life,
And to sing praises for the green earth.
And so do we, here now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Imbolc!

–Jill Yarnall

On a more mundane level we watched today to see if a groundhog would view his shadow on this day, forecasting a full six more weeks of winter. I think we pretty much knew how that would turn out. Interestingly, in previous centuries folks were pondering, at this time of year, about who might be coming out of hibernation, and, I must confess, I found myself wondering this last week if local rattlesnakes have begun to emerge yet or not. I think with the recent snows they will be largely discouraged.

I also noticed that as I’ve been walking the dogs in the rain I’ve been very replenished by the sheer sight of the yellow crocuses popping up next to the sidewalk in front of my neighbor’s house (I say hello to them every morning accompanied by a big smile) and by the tulips emerging from pots on my front steps. I took my camera (yes, the 35 mm, don’t laugh) out to seek further signs of life pushing itself out into the open in spite of snow and rain and cold and darkness. Life will not be held back, my friends. Not at all.

Precious little daffodils. I can hardly wait to see their happy yellow faces!

Speaking of which I think it’s a fine time to let you know that I’ve decided to go ahead independently with the publishing of my book Plant Whatever Brings You Joy: Blessed Wisdom from the Garden this year. The imprint has been decided. It is Estrella Catarina. Please stay tuned for further details as they emerge.

Life abounds, life abounds, life abounds. Enjoy!

Love and blessings,
Kathryn xox

Posted on February 2nd, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: Planet Earth | 18 Comments »