And so it begins...

My gardening calendar starts at the first sign of weeds.  If it's warm enough for them to be popping up, Spring is here.  I took advantage of this unseasonably warm day to do some weeding.  When I got home, I quickly changed into some grubby clothes, grabbed my gear, and headed out the door. 

With Tyler at my side, we made quick work of some weeds that had taken hold along the sidewalk leading from the back door to the pool entrance.  He quickly discovered that if he poked the trowel into the dirt at a 45 degree angle and then slammed the handle down, he could create a dirt explosion.  I banished him from garden work and sent him off to explore the field.  He took the trowel with him.

Luckily for me, I had found my weed digger, and didn't need the trowel. I'm sure there is a technical name for the tool, but it's a long, skinny piece of metal with a fork on the end, that you shove into the ground and use to uproot weeds, yet minimally disturb plants.

I had just covered the bottom of the bucket with weeds when Eric got home.  He came out on the deck and commented that I sure work fast when it's something I want to do.  I smiled, accepted the jab, and declined to get defensive about it.  I thought about it later, and I came to the conclusion -- what's wrong with that?  Who doesn't jump right into projects they're passionate about?  I don't know such a person.

I moved my way into the gated area surrounding the pool and found a large patch of cool weather weeds.  When I was little, I was very fond of this particular weed. I have no idea what it's called, but it branches out these long, green, wand-like stems and then dark purple flowers emerge all over the wands.  It reminds me of a tame sage or a lobelia, with its tubular flowers. The lesson here is -- be careful what you wish for. As a kid, I picked handfuls of these and just loved them... and now they are the primary weed I'm battling in this particular part of the garden.

It's interesting how weeds have seasons, like perennials.  It's also interesting that I have different weed problems in different areas of the garden, it's almost as though the micro-climates in each area dictate what is going to be a problem there, much as it dictates what I can and can't grow.

Not long into the weeding process, I felt and heard stillness.  It actually went completely silent outside for just a minute.  There were no cars going down the road, no birds chirping, and no wind blowing.  It was extremely eerie.  Dark clouds gathered overhead.  The forecast calls for snow and high 30's tomorrow, but it was 80 degrees.  Seems impossible, but that is one of the mysteries of Spring.

I finished my work and gave Spring a proper welcome by dumping out a tightly packed 5-gallon bucket of weeds.