What is all this nonesense about spring? I spend a few minutes looking around at other blogs, and I’m about ready to sell my house (as if anyone could do that these days!) and move south.
Mr. McGregor’s Daughter has a post titled “It Really Is Spring;” Always Growing has one called “Happy for Warm Days;” Benjamin of The Deep Middle announces that the "Sandhill Cranes Are Here," The Giraffe Head Tree has a "New Look for Spring." and the Heirloom Gardener is blithely (rashly, if she could see my scowl) writing about "The First Tree to Flower in the Garden," the witchhazel. Even though Gotta Garden has a post titled "Snow Flowers," the snow gets short shrift and the flowers are many and lovely.
Now if you visit my garden, I'd be happy to offer you a seat, but I don't know if you'd want to accept the offer, and there sure wouldn't be any flowers to admire, as the photograph above demonstrates.
The irony here is that I started this post about the lovely snow. I went about the garden yesterday morning taking photographs of the sculpure in the patio circle,
the row of plant hangers on the south wall of the house,
the netting that peas will climb, come May.
In other words, I was perfectly happy about all the white stuff until I started making the rounds of others' gardens, and saw all those snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils. The more I saw, the grumpier I got, and the more misanthropic.
My pea plans, for instance, depend on my having better luck than Susan Tomlinson of The Bicycle Garden, whose transplanted snap peas died off in droves, leading to the wonderful title "File Under: Um, that didn't work…" Now, I like Susan, a lot, and I love her blog, and I'm sorry that her peas died and all, but the main problem she's facing is this: it may be too late in the season, down there in Texas, to re-plant directly.
Too late in the season? Not in Bozeman, Montana. The traditional planting date here is Memorial Day, around May 20. Peas can be put in earlier, but only by a few weeks. Of course, the last couple of springs have come a month early, but still, we've got a three to four month growing season here.
At the moment, the only person I like is the author of "Propitiating the Snow Demons," on Leave Me Alone, I'm Digging, who was wishing for snow and got it. Though come to think of it, he's way too cheerful about his snowfall. Cross off another one.
Excuse me while I go sulk.