False Spring is Still Spring, More or Less

Every year Albuquerque has a false spring. Right around Valentine's Day it gets really nice and warm. Everyone yearns to go outside. Plants everywhere bloom and I get hit by the first wave of allergies for the year.

The past two weeks have been sunny, in the 70s, and beautiful. I was sneezing my head off. Then, yesterday and today, it snowed. There goes this years false spring.

The best thing about the false spring is that it reminds me that it's time to plant peas. It's actually a little early for Albuquerque but mid-February is definitely pea planting time down in Las Cruces, where I picked up the habit. Sometimes you can get away with it in Abq. The first planting of the year. The beginning of the gardening season. I love it.

So this afternoon Little Digger and I went out and planted a row of Sugar Snap Peas along the back of the apple bed. Hopefully, they'll sprout and wind their way up the chainlink wall of the chicken pen that presses up against the bed. If the chickens don't peck them to pieces first, we'll have fresh, sweet peas in a few months.

While I was out there, I noticed that a few plants in my garden were fooled by the false spring. Day lilies are peeking their heads through the mulch in a few places, as are the Hollyhocks we planted last year. Maybe they'll actually produce a few flowers this time around! The herbs all seem to have overwintered pretty well. We even have a couple strawberry plants that seem to have survived!

I am so excited for this year.

Survival

The sun comes up, warm and bright. It is spring and plants burst forth waving green flags, bright and new, to announce that they did not succumb to winter's chill.
All of the apple saplings in my yard have survived their first winter, a good omen for my fledgling garden, and some day lilies are beginning to poke their way through the soil. It will be an exciting year for this digger.

Unfortunately, my little lawn has suffered some from my inexperience. There are many dead patches which I am attributing to white grubs preparing for hibernation last fall. I'm not sure what to do about them just yet. In the meantime, I've aerated the remaining grass and topdressed it with compost.

Autumn Changes

Today was a very busy day in my little garden. Three new apple trees arrived from One Green World, a Golden Sentinel, another North Pole, and a dwarf Hidden Rose. The timing is perfect because the Rose is supposed to be a special birthday apple for my daughter, who turns 2 tomorrow. In later years it should ripen around her birthday and the fruit should have red flesh.
But we had to make room for the new trees, which meant pulling up most of the vegetables. As much corn was harvested saved as possible, though the yield was pretty sad looking. The dry stalks were thrown into my very green-waste heavy composter. The tomatoes were pulled up and all the ripe ones consumed on the spot by my daughter. The basil was turned into 21 oz of pesto and frozen. The only vegetables remaining are the two pumpkin vines (which have one ripe gourd for Halloween and two that might be pie in November).
While digging the tree holes I uncovered a dozen white grubs, mostly by the onions that never produced. I'm guessing they're Japanese beetle grubs because I saw the adults all summer. They're probably causing the dry spots in my lawn too. I'll have to look into treatment for that.

The Hardest Time of the Year

March is such a cruel month in Duke City.  It's still technically winter and yet the weather has turned beautiful.  It's sunny and breezy and warm enough to be outside in a t-shirt.  The trees are flowering and sending out new growth.  Every inch of my body screams to get outdoors and start planting.  And yet I have to wait to plant most of my favourite vegetables.  I know that, come Easter, there will be one last hard freeze that will wipe out any tender greens.

Still, I can't help but get something in the ground.  This year, that means two different plantings.  There are two pots on the patio that now have sugar snap peas planted in them.  And one flower bed that I raked black spanish round radish seeds and a rainbow blend of carrot seeds into, with the promise that they will be finished and gone before my mother-in-law wants to plant flowers there.

And they're starting to come up!  Oh, the optimism of spring. Peas are beginning to push through the potting soil and a full dozen radishes are sunning their cotyledon.  Maybe, if I'm lucky, there will be as much radish growth underground as above and the carrots will follow suit, unlike last year.  I have no real logical reason to suspect that it will be so.  Quite the opposite, in fact, but I can't help it when the weather turns this nice.  I have to believe in spring!