It may be safe to say that spring has finally sprung
Don’t look now, but I think ... maybe ... perhaps ... it just could be ...
that spring is here. Shhhh! We don’t want to scare it away.
For two days in a row, it’s been short sleeves for me, even in the mornings. The temperature has been tolerable. Dogwoods and our apple tree have bloomed, and others already have bright green leaves filling out their branches. I’ve heard peepers, other frogs and even an owl in the pasture and trees behind our house.
Yep, it may be safe to say spring finally has arrived in the Ozarks, especially after last weekend’s Easter cold snap. From experience, my rule of thumb has been don’t set out plants, don’t get out the shorts or pop open the sunscreen until Easter or just after the holiday. No matter when it falls. It seems every year just before Easter, winter takes one last dying, frosty breath before giving way to spring.
Which brings up something I’ve been pondering this week.
Why can’t Easter be on a fixed day like Christmas? Romans had calendars, the Hebrews had calendars, the events of Good Friday would have happened on a specific date. So why does Easter keep moving around every year?
I know it’s tied to Passover, which for some reason is tied to moon phases and such, but the crucifixion occurred on a specific date. There would have been records. If folks can pick a specific date for Christmas, the events of which likely didn’t even occur on Dec. 25 or even that time of year, why can’t the same thing be done for Easter?
After all, everything that occurs happens at a specific fixed point in time. Unless it’s on Doctor Who and it gets caught up in that whole timey-wimey thing.
But, I digress.
It’s good that spring is here. It means temperatures will get warmer, nights will be more pleasant, windows will be opened to let in fresh air, flowers will be blooming and it’s time to get those fresh summer vegetables growing. For those just tuning in to my missives, or who haven’t heard me say it, I hate winter. I love the other three seasons, but I could skip winter and not miss a thing. I don’t like being cold.
I’m getting the itch to start our container garden. Some folks already have gardens planted, but I like to wait until after the Easter cold snap so I don’t have to replant anything. Last year’s garden on the patio did well. Tomatoes — full-sized and cherry — kept growing right up to last fall’s first frost, and pepper plants I thought had succumbed to last summer’s heat sprang back with new peppers late in the season.
Other than the standard care you need to give your plants, there’s not a lot of maintenance required for a container garden. You don’t have to hoe it and weed it and all that. And you don’t have to till up the yard, which at our place, as I’ve noted before, is pretty much one inch of top soil on acres of rock.
Whether you have a place where you can grow a full-blown garden, or like me just use containers (I’m thinking about converting an old ice chest into a planter), growing your own vegetables is fun. You get to watch the plants grow, and sometimes it seems as if they change overnight. They leaf out, then blooms appear, and before you know it there are tiny tomatoes or peppers or cucumbers or squash replacing the blossoms. Then, they grow and get bigger and ripe until they’re ready to pick and eat.
Come summer, you have fresh home-grown tomatoes and other goodies for the table. Or you can just pick one off the vine and bite into it for as fresh of a taste that you can get. It was like that growing up with Dad’s garden. And when I was off at college, it was so good to come home to find a table full of vegetables that only a couple of hours earlier still were on the plants.
I think I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s hard to beat fresh sliced tomatoes, cool sliced cucumbers, green onions, crispy bell pepper all soaked in a bit of vinegar with a touch of sugar, salt and black pepper. Or, better yet, home-grown tomatoes, lettuce and bacon sandwiches. That’s a true joy of late spring and early summer (although a BLT is a joy any time).
And now, it’s that time of year. Finally, after a winter that would make an Eskimo move south. Get that soil, grab those plants and let’s get moving.
For two days in a row, it’s been short sleeves for me, even in the mornings. The temperature has been tolerable. Dogwoods and our apple tree have bloomed, and others already have bright green leaves filling out their branches. I’ve heard peepers, other frogs and even an owl in the pasture and trees behind our house.
Yep, it may be safe to say spring finally has arrived in the Ozarks, especially after last weekend’s Easter cold snap. From experience, my rule of thumb has been don’t set out plants, don’t get out the shorts or pop open the sunscreen until Easter or just after the holiday. No matter when it falls. It seems every year just before Easter, winter takes one last dying, frosty breath before giving way to spring.
Which brings up something I’ve been pondering this week.
Why can’t Easter be on a fixed day like Christmas? Romans had calendars, the Hebrews had calendars, the events of Good Friday would have happened on a specific date. So why does Easter keep moving around every year?
I know it’s tied to Passover, which for some reason is tied to moon phases and such, but the crucifixion occurred on a specific date. There would have been records. If folks can pick a specific date for Christmas, the events of which likely didn’t even occur on Dec. 25 or even that time of year, why can’t the same thing be done for Easter?
After all, everything that occurs happens at a specific fixed point in time. Unless it’s on Doctor Who and it gets caught up in that whole timey-wimey thing.
But, I digress.
It’s good that spring is here. It means temperatures will get warmer, nights will be more pleasant, windows will be opened to let in fresh air, flowers will be blooming and it’s time to get those fresh summer vegetables growing. For those just tuning in to my missives, or who haven’t heard me say it, I hate winter. I love the other three seasons, but I could skip winter and not miss a thing. I don’t like being cold.
I’m getting the itch to start our container garden. Some folks already have gardens planted, but I like to wait until after the Easter cold snap so I don’t have to replant anything. Last year’s garden on the patio did well. Tomatoes — full-sized and cherry — kept growing right up to last fall’s first frost, and pepper plants I thought had succumbed to last summer’s heat sprang back with new peppers late in the season.
Other than the standard care you need to give your plants, there’s not a lot of maintenance required for a container garden. You don’t have to hoe it and weed it and all that. And you don’t have to till up the yard, which at our place, as I’ve noted before, is pretty much one inch of top soil on acres of rock.
Whether you have a place where you can grow a full-blown garden, or like me just use containers (I’m thinking about converting an old ice chest into a planter), growing your own vegetables is fun. You get to watch the plants grow, and sometimes it seems as if they change overnight. They leaf out, then blooms appear, and before you know it there are tiny tomatoes or peppers or cucumbers or squash replacing the blossoms. Then, they grow and get bigger and ripe until they’re ready to pick and eat.
Come summer, you have fresh home-grown tomatoes and other goodies for the table. Or you can just pick one off the vine and bite into it for as fresh of a taste that you can get. It was like that growing up with Dad’s garden. And when I was off at college, it was so good to come home to find a table full of vegetables that only a couple of hours earlier still were on the plants.
I think I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s hard to beat fresh sliced tomatoes, cool sliced cucumbers, green onions, crispy bell pepper all soaked in a bit of vinegar with a touch of sugar, salt and black pepper. Or, better yet, home-grown tomatoes, lettuce and bacon sandwiches. That’s a true joy of late spring and early summer (although a BLT is a joy any time).
And now, it’s that time of year. Finally, after a winter that would make an Eskimo move south. Get that soil, grab those plants and let’s get moving.
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