Spring Bulbs or Why I Don’t Garden Much

You’d think, after four or five years in the ground, the daffodils in front of Festung TXRed would know better. But no. Three weeks ago, the first little green spears appeared, only to vanish under two splatters of snow. Now at least 30 bits of overly optimistic foliage have worked their way through what passes for loam in this area and are seeking sunlight.

The roses are not helping. Granted, sweetbriar (also known as “jogger beware” or “lawnmower bane”) has an excuse. It’s hardy, not smart. But the neighbor’s shrub roses are starting to bud.

Now, normal people in places with mostly normal weather would see this is, well, normal.* The High Plains and western Great Plains are not normal. We have at least one massive hard freeze around Easter, just to keep gardeners from getting too optimistic. And anyone who puts tomatoes out before May 10 deserves what they get. Last year, in late April, the temperature dropped to 15 F with constant 35 mph north winds and no moisture. You could stand at the window and watch the new leaves and flowers turning into freeze-dried plant jerky.

So when I see things starting to sprout in mid February, I feel an urge to go pile ice over them, just to try to convince the little things to go back into dormancy.  Oh well. It keeps the greenhouses and hardware stores in business.

*If you are north of Nebraska, you are laughing at this, I know.

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