Hotly debated confinement imminent

While not quite “The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote…”

The reign is over

(9 stormy weekends and endless, dark, dreary, winter days…)

And coming apart.

The window screens are.

Modern “miracle” fiber holds up for just so many hurricane seasons and punishing scorching summers. Tiny gnat filtering screens ready to debut shortly …which mandates hours of prep cleaning windows and the years of debris clogging those window channels the screens must fit into.

Memo to self: work on instructional behavior modification for large dog paws and little cat feet which are just trying to encourage those lively chameleons and lizards to come inside and play…or the new screens will have a very limited window of use.

The flowers, like wannabe beauty queens, graciously welcome visitors – encouraging them to try the porch bench and chat for a while. The silly Feather Prairie Grass waves people over with the same joke season after season, “Step right up. Take a trip. Have a nice fall.” Sigh. (© Image)

Spring is here. It’s official.

About 89°F past two days. Molly Malamute is drooping already.

We’re frantically getting outdoor work done – like squirrels rushing around preparing for winter – only here it’s frenzy before sweltering, scorching summer heat drives us all indoors for the duration.

“Spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men.” (Chinese Proverb).

Yeah, can’t hold a good weed down – late winter storm or no later winter storm. It’s the Deep State of Plants: underground plotting to take over no matter how much effort is put in get to the root of verdant matters. Endless, inexhaustible army of flora…don’t think for a moment they will go without a fight.

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” (Margaret Atwood)

Oh, good. No snippy comments about the earthy smell in the house…it’s seasonal dressing. Feel guilty blaming it on muddy dog paws so much.

Lilies always innocently look like a gaggle of ladies who brunch. Probably ready to trumpet news or gossip, so watch what you say on that bench. (© image)

“But each spring a gardening instinct, sure as the sap rising in the trees, stirs within us. We look about and decide to tame another little bit of ground.” (Lewis Gantt)

Like DIY house remodeling projects (“just a little updating”), landscaping is an addiction.

I’m said to have PADD (Plant Attention Deficit Disorder): easily distracted from going in a straight line to get just the items on the Home Depot list when faced with colorful gardening displays.

Oh, seriously these little bedraggled limp plants in the soon to be discarded and trashed closeout pile just need fresh dirt and sun – and they are only 50¢! (Don’t smirk. I’ll match my strays and orphans against any of your high dollar plants in less than a week – and at a bargain price. Which leaves all the more money for more mulch and rocks.)

Yes, rocks. This is the coastal prairie. Rocks less. (I know, my ancient relatives are rolling over in their graves that I buy river rocks…beats driving to Central TX ranch and fighting the rattle snakes for them though.)

“You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.” (Old Irish Saying)

Good advice – for any season or any seasoned one.

Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.

May be a long way from cool babbling brooks and river beds, but I can make believe…through the window…inside in the air conditioning all summer. (© Image)

 

 

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