Jaci Dawn

Subtitled: I think I tried to kill myself today. Ouch. I hurt. All Over. Definitely going to have to work up to gardening this year!

We are in the midst of a mild El Niño winter. Today was one of those days free of rain and relatively spring-like outside, and so we both decided we would work in the yard.

Don pulled out the blackberries that have taken over our vegetable garden site. We haven’t attempted gardening for the past two or three years, and between the grass and the blackberries… It’s a mess.

This is the project for this summer: the huge pile of blackberries, ivy, and trailing nightshade that has taken up residence between the veggie garden and the shed. I don’t even want to think about it, and after today, I’m pretty sure Don doesn’t want to think about it.

At least he got them out of the vegetable garden site.

Himalayan (or Armenian) Blackberries are the bane of the Pacific Northwest Gardener. These are an imported blackberry that is especially aggressive and noxious. Unfortunately, the berries are wonderfully delicious, and you will often see berry pickers along the sides of the roads, picking these when they are ripe. So a word to the wise: BUY your blackberries from a reputable grower. There’s a plethora of wonderful, non-invasive, tasty blackberries! My personal favorite is the Boysenberry, but the Marionberry is delicious, too.

Me? I attacked two flower beds. The old asters, peonies, and even some of the noxious grass got dealt with. This particular bed is green with purple hyacinths; they come up early in the autumn and stay green until after they bloom in early spring.

But look at this: one of my tree peonies is putting out leaves! Ack! It’s the last day of January, silly plant!

I kind of like this season: I get a sneak preview of what is coming up under the left-over, last-season debris.

I also dead-headed this flower bed: peonies, gladiolas, a lavender, and much more. The grape got hard-pruned earlier. The hardest part is picking up the oak leaves.

We don’t even have an oak tree in our yard. Or a fir tree. But winter and spring are a battlefield of wind-borne detritus from neighbors’ yards. I hate the oak leaves: they provide shelter to snails and slugs. Ugh.

I wanted to tackle the island, too, but I just wore out. So it remains a mess of evening primroses, overgrown oregano, peonies, irises, and Russian sage. We’re going into a week of rainy weather, so it won’t get done for awhile.

I just hurt too much to do any more, Don had already given up the battle (Don:1, Blackberries:0), and the yard debris container was full plus a spare container. It was just plain time to go in.

This is what Harvey did while we gardened. Isn’t that nice? It’s a hole to China. It can’t possibly be that he was hunting the elusive mole.

Have you ever tried to wash a 90-pound dog’s feet off while he’s pulling back from you? No way was I letting him track his fuzzy mud-filled bear paws into my house. I won.

I really don’t know what to say about this. The filbert has four-inch long catkins already.

Or this. Yes, that’s my Camellia. Blooming. In January.

Tomorrow’s job is to clean and refill all the hummingbird feeders. I can’t seem to stay ahead of these greedy little beasts. (I had the wrong lens on to take a photo of her and I think she knew it.)