"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade." Charles Dickens

Mushrooms growing in the rainy desert, May 2011
Little Sahara Recreation area in Utah.

(Written in November 2011)

The spring of 2011 was a soggy mess. Was I in Seattle or Salt Lake City? The rain was incessant, drumming its constant banter on my windows. I’ve come to believe it was a personal assault against my failure to properly fix my rain gutter in the back yard. The universe seemed to garner obscene pleasure in watching me do battle with the wicked stretch of metal. Stupid low spot, stupid rain gutter. That rain gutter knew I had no "man-card". I realize that April showers bring May flowers… but what do March, April, May and June showers bring?

March 8th, 2011

We “desert people” simply don’t know what to do with ourselves in that much rain and it makes the lot of us native folk a cantankerous miserable horde. Everywhere I went people were voicing the complaint that ran circles through my brain, “It’s raining… AGAIN? SERIOUSLY?” One of the eccentricities of Utah is that the weather is bipolar and irrational. Like a mischievous provocateur, the winter will suddenly break in late February, the sun will shine, the birds will sing, and eager Utahan’s will don shorts and flip flops for about 3 days.  And then, on the fourth day, a foot of snow will fall and a bone chilling wind will rage, and lady weather will laugh her ass off. She’s a terrible tease. We certainly don’t expect Spring in February, but when we get a taste of it, and then winter returns in full force, it tends to send people like me into unhinged tantrums reminiscent of a petulant child on a long road trip, “Is it spring yet? Is it spring YET? IS IT SPRING YET???” And with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes, "It's never going to be spring."

Black Tulip Magnolia tree in
March of 2011- frost bitten bloom.

May 2011.

So it began that my delphinium perennials began poking their sweet little heads through the frozen earth way too early. My poor black tulip magnolia tree buds froze solid and really did turn black (rather than the gorgeous deep aubergine they should be). At first I used water-walls to protect the delphiniums, but soon they were too big, and it was still snowing. So, I bought some clear storage totes and used those, turned upside-down to protect the deranged delphiniums. Didn’t they know this was the time for tough-as-nails bulbs to be growing? Not the delicate leafy perennials? Maybe this is normal, but I was quite worried about them. I was a new mama gardener and these were my babies, surviving their first harsh winter.

There seemed to be nothing I could do for the magnolia buds. If you have any ideas let me know because it’s sure to happen again. Maybe I’ll try some burlap. The tree itself survived just fine but I felt cheated out of its gorgeous annual display.

So, why am I writing about spring now... in November? Because I can't wait for the spring of 2012. Even with all the hot/cold crazy spring weather, my garden is at its most beautiful in the spring.

Beautiful deep pink flower bud just opening on my black
tulip magnolia tree in March... before it was killed by the frost.

"A garden is never quite so good as it will be next year" - Thomas Cooper

Moni's garden plot, Oct. 2011

It's November in Utah. It's cold. It's bitter cold... and dry... and horrible. My eyes itch. I hate winter. Hate, hate winter. Everything is dead and ugly. In order to keep my sanity, I'm starting this blog, so I can dream about and plan my "next" garden. I've tripled the size of my vegetable garden plot in the backyard. Soon I'll have nothing left to mow. :) Somewhere around October 15th I planted garlic and onions around the southern and western outer rows of the garden. I've been learning as I go. I read that I have to plant garlic in the fall if I want to eat it next summer, who knew? I also planted a bunch of onions... planting onions in the fall in Utah gets mixed reactions... some people look at me like I'm crazy, others say they've had great luck doing this. I guess we'll see. I planted the garlic around the outside edge of the garden because I read that "theoretically" the pungency of the garlic should serve as an unwelcome sign to garden pests. Perhaps this is an old wives tales... perhaps not. I somehow managed a miraculous bout of beginner's luck with my first ever vegetable garden this summer. I really didn't have any pest problems. My tiny corn field (six different varieties) turned out amazingly sweet. When my grandpa asked what technique I employed to keep worms out of the ears I replied "They get worms? Maybe there aren't worms in the city."

Me and my grandfather Henry Skriner
in the spring of 2010 standing by his garden.

I grew up learning very little of gardening, though I had a grandfather who was completely obsessed with it. I regret now that I never spent more time with him in his garden. He's in his late 80's now and I'm eager to learn his secrets. I didn't realize as a child that I harbored this obsession. My mother found her father's garden dull, boring, and an unwelcome chore. In all honesty, my grandfather was a perfectionist and wasn't one to easily relinquish control. So, though she may have initially been excited to dig in the dirt, that eagerness turned to boredom as he "showed" her how things should be done... and finished them all himself as she watched. I can't really blame him. He loved the work, as I do now. I think he is actually 88 this year, and he's spent just as much time outside in his garden this summer as he ever has growing corn, potatoes, pumpkins, onions, tomatoes, zucchini, the list goes on. I think he was able to make the 2 1/2 hour trip from his house to mine about 4 times this summer and during that time he imparted several golden nuggets of invaluable wisdom which I'll get to later.

For now I'll just say that this blog is not just about vegetable gardening. It's also about flower gardens. I really started out mostly focusing on perennials the first year I bought my house. The yard was in a state of complete and utter horror. The weeds had completely overrun everything and I found myself with spiky burs stuck to the bottoms of my shoes every time I turned around. My home was built in 1929 and is in the heart of the city. Digging in the yard was a real challenge, from the hard clay soil, to the hordes of stepping stones I would find buried even under the lawn. I think I've dug up at least 20 cement blocks (so far). I've also found quite a few marbles, roofing nails, coins, jars, and action figures. Looking back I should have kept them all in a bragging-rights pile of sorts, but at the time as I was sweating blood and tears ripping out the weeds it all seemed fairly inconsequential. This was a serious war... and I intended to win. I vowed I would not experience another Halloween where the children were afraid to knock on my door because the parents thought the yard looked like a place where a crazy serial killer would put razor blades in the candy. And so in the spring of 2010 I began the transformation.