After a few brief but titillating warm spells, we have been stuck in a cold, windy, damp, cold - did I mention cold? - rut. I refuse to buy fuel oil so we are hunkered down with the fireplace if it gets too bad - Scrappy is starting to riot. Someone remind me to knit him a sweater for next winter. The temperature bottomed out at 28 degrees this morning. I believe my curly parsley is toast. I am hoping that the strawberries can hold on for another week (please, God) and I am SO ready to plant. I've got seed potatoes, packets of peas and onion sets staring at me from every drawer, root closet and corner.
I got home last night to be greeted in the back by Linden. Again. I am so glad he's such a sunny, friendly boy. I am also glad he didn't make his appearance known when the dogs were out relieving themselves after a long day of crossing their legs. Luckily, Kay had stopped by and we managed to get him in with the goats. Which, of course, sent Chicky into an uproar. Much posturing, rearing and head-butting until good-natured Linden had had enough and went more than willingly into the sheep pen. I did finally find his escape route - he had worked the fence up in a corner, dug out some of the dirt, and squeezed his not-small self underneath. I patched it as well as I could until the weekend. While I made a cursory inspection of the fence line, I did notice a few other weak spots, so I guess that "fencing" goes on the to-do list.
The cold frame continues to be the only salvation I have so far this Spring. I was contemplating creating cold frames on all my raised beds since this seems to be the only way to get an actual crop of veggies (there, I've said it). But, of course, as soon as I would go to the expense and time of actually building all the tops, we would get a prolonged heat wave. So, there you are. I am left grousing.
|Sage, a year ago.|