Stephanie says

Slowly rocking on a sun dappled porch Seed catalog on my knee Two dogs sprawl in the shadows While insects whirr past or hover mid-flight A puff of lilac sweetened air licks my bare arms

There is a dead snake laying directly in my path hauling boards to the side yard. Every time it pops into view I do a prelude to the snake dance; mind you, just the jitters and aflutter heart.  There's a lot of boards still in the driveway.  So yes, the snakes are out of hibernation. The dead snake must go. I know, I know, I know. It’s so tedious having to don long sleeved shirt, big gloves, boots, and a long handled implement for the actual removal. It won’t jump up and bite me, duh. I know, I know, I know. I won’t wimp out and get my neighbor to do the deed. A little karma for scoffing at the arachnophobiasts?

After After resisting for years I bought an electric hedge trimmer.   I’m not a Luddite but have more faith that hand tools, by their very design, inflict less damage.   It takes a lot more time and muscle to clip, clip, clip an overgrown hedge with hand loppers.     Yes, the electric ones are faster but it’s also easier to lose perspective and accidentally denude the shrubs.   Okay, so it’s a control issue.   But one I’m forcing myself to let go.   There are a lot of hedges around this house and it’s not just a once a year job.    How very tidy it looks. Before Tiny figling

Oohm.  Oohm.  Photo by my brother - Sundown on the Willamette River.  The trees are beginning to leaf! I'm ready to sail.

Do you remember the series “Sanford & Son” from the 70s? It was a very edgy sitcom produced by Norman Lear, starring comedian Redd Fox, (who had a reputation for very blue live performances,) as Fred Sanford and Demond Wilson as his son Lamont. They owned and operated a junkyard in L.A. One particular episode ranks in my personal top ten list of belly laughing, nose snorting, pee your pants hysterically funny comedy. And now you get to read about it, in greatly abbreviated detail. The scene opens with Fred in the kitchen. He’s stirring a large pot, vapor rising from it, on the range. The camera pans in and a big old cow tongue comes into focus inside the pot. Now that right there is funny. I don’t know why. But it is. Lamont enters the kitchen and notices what’s cooking. He is not remotely pleased. Lamont and Fred bicker. Lamont storms out of the kitchen. There are a number of scenes of this subplot with Fred fussing around that cooking tongue during the show. The final ...

I trimmed these in the nick of time.   It’s easy to shear the old growth before the new fronds uncurl.   Waiting too long makes for a time consuming process, a careful snipping stem-by-stem, to not damage delicate new shoots. I wonder if this is a fiddlehead fern.   I want to eat some, a potential new food experience, not from my yard though.   These look awfully hairy.   Just looked up cooking directions, (how I lived without instant internet access to research any given subject is beyond me) and the furry bits are removed before cooking.   Must foray into the forest to forage for fiddlehead ferns.   That’s a lot of “f” words.

The latest purchase in my collection of garden equipment.   An added bonus:  It's red so it matches the other tools. It's a 2-stroke gas cultivator, (which I learned means there is no oil reservoir; the oil is mixed in with gas.) It just gets better and better.  The hardware store where I do the books three mornings a week gave me an employee discount!  It even has a cup holder.