Monday, March 1, 2010

Promises, promises...

All kinds of promises.

Spring has marched in more or less, even if we are technically supposed to wait until the 20th to declare so. The last typical freeze date around here is March 15th, folks are already sporting sunburns around town even as they remark upon our wonderfully brief snowstorm recently, and if I had no idea from my own experience, a quick glance at garden blogs would reveal it is time to get ready for SpuhRINNNNG!

Spring gets a lot of virtual ink in terms of hope and promises.  And to me, the idea of Spring does carry with it big buckets of promise.

There are bulbs that finally (finally!) have sprouted and/or bloomed, assuring me my efforts to get them buried at the correct depth, root side down, were not in vain.

There are bluebonnets showing in numbers adequate to assure reseeding in an area I've been working on for oh, about five years now.  In my mind's eye this corner has always been filled with bluebonnets.  Reality dictated otherwise.  Until this year that is, when some wonderful conspiracy of germination, temperature and moisture seems to have finally turned the ignition on for my Bonnet Patch.

Despite the loquat trees insisting upon blooming and trying to set fruit during a winter of abrupt dips below freezing, there is evidence there will yet be loquats in a few weeks.

The cilantro plants are beginning to look like they might not only survive, but thrive with a bit of warmth and continuing moisture.

I have tomato seeds ready to start indoors, with my determination that THIS will be the year I get another bumper crop. It has to happen sometime, the lesson of my Bluebonnet Patch (don't give up!) is not lost in the shift from flower to fruit.

Spring also promises a shift in our horizon view soon.  These lovely oak trees that are all over our property, indeed all over Central Texas, have survived wilt threats so far, have survived that long hot hell of a summer, and now are readying themselves to shed their leaves and get busy making baby oaks.  A process I would not begrudge them if it were possible for them to do so and for me to simultaneously be allowed to breathe while outdoors.

Sad to say, it is a respiratory showdown, and I come out waving (and sneezing into) a white handkerchief year after year.

Spring and it's promises, promises, all kinds of promises.  Some, like the bluebonnets, bearing the satisfaction of long sought after goals, some, like the tomatoes, bringing guarantees of flummoxing yet to come, and others, like the oak pollen, simply needing to be survived.

And what will summer bring?  Who knows...summer is still far enough away that any potential bullying of the death star seems a faint threat, especially in the cool of a sunny Spring morning.

So off I go to enjoy precisely that, a cool sunny morning out of doors, before the oak trees try to kill me with their slutty awful pollen making.  For now I can garden AND breathe, a victory I'll take while it lasts.


  1. Sorry about your allergies. Can't wait to see more of your bluebonnet patch! I didn't try tomato seeds this time, just relying on the three plants I got recently at Natural Gardener for now. I potted them and am bringing them inside at night when it's below about 45. What varieties are you trying?

  2. Iris: I waited too long last year and the plants I got were scrawny and never really set any tomatoes. This year I am going with Rutgers, Crimson Sprinter, Brandywine and some Roma seeds I saved from a Wheatsville organic I bought. Don't know about those last ones but figured it wouldn't hurt to try... : ) We'll see if I get any plants worth transplanting outside (and what, if anything, the cats do with the plants once/if they sprout while indoors...). I should really buy a plant or two for insurance - what varieties work for you?

  3. Last year, Cherokee Purples and Sungolds (cherry-type)--bought both transplants from Boggy Creek farmstand--performed very well. I plan to buy those two from them again if offered. At Natural Gardener last week, I bought "Old German", "Valley Girl", and "Sun Gold", plus a tomatillo plant, which I've never tried to grow!

    I'm familiar with your Brandywines and Romas but not Rutgers or Crimson Sprinter. Curious to hear how they turn out.

  4. Doesn't it feel good to see progress in the garden? I even planted petunias last weekend--like petunias belong in the Hill Country. But they smelled heavenly and they're pretty...

    I'm thinking of sneaking a cherry tomato plant into a flower bed. That's as far as my tomato optimism goes. But I'd be happy to drive to Austin when yours come in...


About Me

My photo
Rollingwood, Central Texas
Family historian by default. Oldest surviving matriarch on my branch of the Family Tree. Story teller, photo taker, gardener, cook, blabbermouth.