The Flowers of Spring

Honey Crisp Apple Tree in Full Bloom

"April Showers Bring May Flowers," my mother once crooned. She usually started screeching after a surprise rain storm wiped out whatever her youngest boy had planned for the day -- an event that was usually outside. Because, what boy wants to be stuck inside when the sun is shining outside?

Thank God our house had some thick walls -- because mom's singing was pretty brutal. Brutal enough to drive a boy into a garage in an attempt to find some auditory relief. Perhaps that's the way she wanted it. Perhaps I'm not giving mom enough credit...

Granny Smith Apple in Bloom

Spring is special because it brings a bounty of flowers to the Bird Back 40. And, in our case, every single tiny flower brings the promise of a fruit payoff later this summer. I've come to that age (OLD), where I appreciate the finer things in life. And nothing brings greater joy than a Honey Crisp Apple tree doing it's best Granny Smith Apple imitation.

This is year five for the Honey Crisp. It's delivered exactly one eye-popping crop so far -- and that came in year two. The dreaded Fire Blight would strike in year three, wiping out an entire crop. And last year? Last year the Honey Crisp bloomed in exactly one spot. That's a crime, because the Honey Crisp Apple is that good.

Duke Avocado Tree in Bloom

But this year is somewhat different. This year is somewhat exciting. The temperamental Honey Crisp is covered with blooms and honey bees. The Fuji Apple is also blooming heavily -- a first for this tree as well. And the Granny? The Granny Smith apple was meant to bloom. It always blooms. When doesn't a Granny bloom? If you're looking for a good pollinator tree, look no further than the Granny. That tree is rather ridiculous. It blooms early. It blooms mid-season. It blooms late. Even after you think the Granny is done blooming, surprise! There's another set of buttery pink blossoms.

The story is pretty much the same across the Bird Back 40. The blossom period for the peaches and nectarines is just about over. The thorn less blackberry vines are in full bloom. The Shuksan strawberry plants are going to town. Even the Duke Avocado tree is covered with more blooms and bees than I can possibly count. Step anywhere near that tree and you'd swear there was a beehive hidden somewhere in there.

Duke Avocado Blooms

But the most surprising development isn't the surprisingly heavy crop of Royal Rainier Cherries. It's not the myriad of mandarins that are covered with a carpet of white. No -- the most surprising development was the number of blooms on the Harrow Delight Pear tree. I planted this tree three years ago. I dutifully chopped it in half to knee level to encourage low branch development. And I was told it could take 4-5 years before the Harrow Delight produced its first crop.

Instead, the Harrow Delight bloomed in year three and set a nice crop of pears. This is important because I fell in love with the Harrow Delight at a Dave Wilson Nursery fruit tasting event held several years ago at the Fair Oaks Horticulture Center. Even though the wife that is Venus were sampling a bevy of different fruits on this particular day, one item stood out among all the others. I kept going back for more. It was the Harrow Delight Pear.

Harrow Delight Pear in Bloom

The Harrow Delight is one of two varieties planted in a raised bed that are supposedly resistant to the scourge upon fruit kind known as Fire Blight. It was introduced in 1982 from the Harrow Agricultural station in Ontario, Canada. The Blake's Pride Pear, which is also billed as Fire Blight resistant, was developed by Richard Bell with the ARS Appalachian Fruit Research Station in Kearneysville, West Virginia in 1998.

Unfortunately, I will have to wait on the Blake's Pride as it did now flower this spring. The old-fashioned Bartlett Pear, which is not resistant to blight and is planted in the same raised bed as the other two varieties, flowered heavily this year.

Harrow Delight Pears

No sign of the dreaded blight yet this year. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and trying a new organic solution of water and apple cider vinegar to keep the blight at bay. I do have something stronger, BUT, I really don't like what this particular chemical did to the fruit composition last year. So it stays on the sideline.

Half the work of growing home-grown fruit takes place in the spring. Is the area clear of weeds (weeds steal water)? Has the appropriate fertilizer been applied? Is it getting enough water? Are the fruit trees protected from various ills, like blight, that can strike in the spring?

If the answer to all four questions is "YES," congratulations. You should have a tree full of fruit. Of course, a million and one things could happen between now and harvest time that could spoil that tempting looking crop. As backyard fruit growers, this is the cross we bear.

So -- congratulations. Springtime has arrived. The fruit trees are in full bloom. The honey bees are out in force. And, so far, mom hasn't been tempted to start crooning "April Showers Bring May Flowers."

Spring Greens

Asparagus Anyone?

Spring season means it's greens season -- and you will find no shortage of the good stuff popping to the surface right now in the Bird Back 40. Proof is offered to your immediate right. These are three of the fattest asparagus spears to ever sprout from a 4X4 raised bed that the wife that is Venus and I filled with asparagus crowns three years ago.

The bed produced a few tasty spears last year and then was quickly overtaken by weeds and forgotten up until two weeks ago, when I decided to clear a path through the weed jungle that had taken over a side yard to see what a season of neglect had wrought.

Now emerging: Tonight's Dinner!

Not to worry. The asparagus bed not only survived my neglectful ways, it also managed to recover from the Ultimate Digging Machine's (aka Bandi) attempt to dig a hole to China. Heck, I hadn't even fertilized the bed for a good six months! But as I began to chop and clear away at the neglect, one thing became abundantly clear: I may have neglected the asparagus bed. But it's not going to neglect us.

There's a bumper crop of fat and tasty spears from a myriad of varieties that we've planted through the years. Not all asparagus crowns survive the planting process, which is not a problem. If there's a bare spot there? Cram in some new crowns! Something will eventually take. We have the crops to prove it.

Purple Asparagus

Of course, not every part of the patch is throwing up fat and tender spears. There's still a few crowns that could benefit from a few more years of growth. The spears that are emerging from these root systems aren't all that fat and probably won't be very tasty. But that's OK! Because next year? Next year they just might catch on and then we'll have a bed in full production.

But there's far more popping to the surface in our raised gardening adventures than just tasty asparagus spears. Venus littered one of the 4X8 raised beds with a multitude of seeds just three short weeks ago. She still hasn't lost her touch. What was once bare earth is now flowering with green.

Spinach-Lettuce-Radishes

You'll find more than one variety of spinach in this bed. Yeah, you'll also find a French Breakfast radish or two. Standard Cherry Bell radishes more your speed? Easter Egg radishes? That and more is now ready for harvest. No need to pull up an entire plant for a spinach salad. Venus just clips the best and leaves the rest, and let me tell you something: home grown spinach is one tasty treat.

Guess what happens when you mix spinach with asparagus? It's called DINNER! It's finally that time of year when the spring gardens start providing the things we'd been forced to grudgingly purchase at the nearby grocery store. Nothing against the store mind you, but it's much easier to just go outside and pick what you need.

More Peas Please!

Not quite in production yet, but getting there? That would be the 2013 pea crop. Once again, a tip of the proverbial gardening hat to the wife that is Venus. Once again she has worked magic with nothing more than a bag of seed. She littered another raised main bed with pea seeds last fall. I've come to discover that the month of October is the perfect time for planting pea seeds.

The plants don't look like much when they first emerge and grow very little, if at all, through the frosty cold winter months. But what you can't see in these photos is the root development. Peas may not grow much above ground during the winter, but the root system gets quite extensive.

Flowering pea vines

And when spring hits? The party is on! These vines are now approaching five feet in height and will probably grow above the stakes that are currently holding the crop up. I'm happy to report that the colony of bees on the other side of the yard recently discovered this crop and are currently pollinating it like mad. That means peas. Lots and lots of peas and very soon now I might add.

Will asparagus season hold out for the pea crop? I think so. Three to four weeks of asparagus production isn't all that uncommon. By then? Those vines will be thick with fat pea pods.

Peas, asparagus, spinach, radishes and more. Sounds like spring greens season is on.

The Samad Method

Open! Open! Open!

I can feel it. Can you? I shouldn't be inside typing. I should be outside, digging in the dirt. The weather is warming. Do you feel that sunshine on your back? Does the sun look just a tad brighter than the normal winter blah? Look closely. Is that daffodil about to pop open?

Spring is on its way. I should be outside amending the raised beds in anticipation of the onion starters that will arrive next week from Dixondale Farms. After last year's grand experiment produced some whopper and good tasting onions, the wife that is Venus and I doubled up on the order this year. We ordered one bunch each of red, yellow and white. One bunch equals about sixty onion starter plants. That's 180 onions. Think that's enough?

Bing Cherry Graft to Royal Rainier Cherry Tree

The onset of this February blast of spring-like conditions also tells me something else: I'd better get moving and finish off the projects on the grafting front. With the stone fruit trees in dormant stage, Bill Bird has been playing the role of "Johnny Appleseed" in one Frankensteinish grafting effort after another. Why be stuck with two or three peach varieties when you can have 20?

I documented last year's amateurish grafting efforts here. Using my handy-dandy 3T EZ grafting tool, I set about the yard grafting scion branch after scion branch to one fruit tree after another. The result? Amazing success on the pluot and plum trees! But I struck out on the peach, cherry and nectarine grafting efforts. Not a single branch took. So what went wrong?

3T EZ Grafting Tool

Nothing, really. I'm still learning at this craft. Greater success comes with experience. The more you graft? The better you'll get at it. Your success rate will go up. So, when you look at it from that angle? I did pretty good. But I can do better. This year I am employing a new method learned at the hands of an Iranian-born Sacramento resident who taught me a grafting technique I'd never seen performed before.

His name is Samad (or Sam) Jaufeshan. And his Sacramento backyard is loaded with testament after testament to his grafting skills. When you come across a grower that has 42 different varieties of table grapes that have been grafted to less than ten grapevine stumps, it might be a good idea to stop, look and listen. I first met Sam during my miserable and failed attempts to graft Duke avocado tree scions to avocado root stock.

Standard Grafts Using the 3T EZ Tool

The 3T EZ grafting tool I had employed that first year is a good tool for beginners and it's a tool I will continue to use. But this type of grafting does have it's drawbacks. The V-Graft, for example, requires you to find a branch on a tree that is about the same size of the scion itself, which isn't always easy to do via the naked eye. Secondly, both the V and Omega grafts require you to pick a branch that is the farthest away from the fruit tree trunk. As you get closer to the trunk, the fruit bearing branches get to be very large -- an inch or more in diameter.

I do not recommend hacking off a large branch to perform a graft like this. It's likely to fail and leave you with a gaping hole in the tree itself. This is not a good idea.

Samad Method: Skin Grafting

But the "Samad Method" as I've come to call it now (also known as t-budding) does not rely upon grafting one branch to another. It doesn't require you to "search out" and find the "perfect fit." It allows you to graft on any branch, or even the trunk of the fruit tree itself. The "Samad Method" is simple, yet successful. I say this because I have three grafted Duke avocado trees to prove it. At least one of them will find a home in the Bird Back 40 this spring.

Let me back up a moment and say the Samad Method "seems" to be simple when you see it performed. However, like any grafting attempt, experience counts. My first few grafts using this method were, in a word, bad. But practice makes perfect. The last few grafting attempts have been right on the money.

Common Box Cutter Turned Skin Grafting Tool

Another plus? This grafting technique does not require the grafter to hack off fruit bearing branches. It also allows the grafter to make ten grafts instead of one or two. Every inch of the fruit tree in question is open to this method. You're not limited to one small branch that is at the furthest point from the tree trunk itself.

The "Samad Method" involves taking skin from one fruit tree scion branch and grafting that bit of skin to the skin of a fruit tree. Rather than "branch to branch," it's the skin of one bud cut from the donor branch to the skin of the recipient tree. This requires a couple of things: a bit of practice and razor sharp grafting tool. There are some grafters who employ actual surgical tools for this type of procedure, so caution is a must.

T-Cut Into Cherry Tree Branch

Each scion branch contains anywhere from five to ten buds. This means one donor branch can provide five to ten grafting opportunities rather than the ONE that is offered with the V or Omega grafts. This is why Venus' Royal Rainier Cherry tree holds eight Bing Cherry grafts instead of one or two. I don't need all eight to be successful, although that would be a riot, wouldn't it? No -- as long as one survives and grows -- I will have accomplished the task at hand.

This grafting technique allowed me to graft four Loring Peach buds onto the trunk of my O'Henry fruit tree. It allowed me to place four Suncrest Peach buds on the strongest branches of the June Pride Peach tree. Four of the strong, fruit bearing, branches on the Fuji Apple tree hold Braeburn Apple grafts. There's more to list here, but I'm sure you get the idea.

Bud Inserted Into T-Cut

And now the $64 question: Will this method work? I've seen it work in another backyard, but Sam has a 40 year head start on my growing and grafting efforts. As with any gardening experiment? Only time and patience will tell. When the first buds of spring emerge I'll either have a large smile on my face, or it's "more practice needed."

The Greens of Spring

Bowl of Home Grown Color

...And so it begins. My favorite garden season followed by my most treasured garden season. Spring and summer are a delight for gardeners like myself. These seasons bring a bounty of delectable, mouthwatering, homegrown produce like what you see pictured to your right.

Every last morsel in that bright yellow bowl came straight from the raised beds in the Bird Back 40. It hasn't been amended with anything purchased at a Farmer's Market, or our nearby Safeway or Raleys/Bel-Air. Not that I'm a critic of our local produce suppliers. It's just that -- well -- when's the last time you purchased a purple radish the size of a golf ball or larger at your local store?

Selection of Radishes and Asparagus Spears

I'm fortunate in that the wife that is Venus can grow one mean and mighty radish. She can turn an ordinary French Breakfast radish into a French Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. One might think a radish this size would have the fine taste of wood. Nope....

This is prime fresh greens season in the Bird Back 40 -- though if this blast of heat keeps up it will probably end as quickly as it started. Lettuce tends to bolt -- and quickly -- when our famous Sacramento furnace heats up. So -- enjoy it while you can because the season will be gone before you know it.

2012 Lettuce Crop-Bird Back 40

We're fortunate this year in that the starter plants were delivered to use courtesy of the Department of Plant Sciences at UC Davis. These starters were unlike anything I've seen before or since and have grown rapidly since Venus set them into the ground a little over a month ago. They have grown to the point where we can enjoy fresh greens and radishes nearly every night of the week.

The only thing that's missing? Why! Fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes of course!

Of all the varieties that we have growing in the Bird Back 40 this year -- I suppose I'm partial to the red leaf. It's unlike any red leaf lettuce I've ever seen before. Most lettuce varieties that are billed as "red leaf" have a touch of green in them -- usually at the base of each leaf. But not this variety. It's a straight, dark, wine-red, glossy color from start to finish.

Developing Head of Lettuce

I'm not sure if I'm sold on the look or taste, but both are darn good.

Home grown lettuce is unlike anything you're going to find in local stores. It's not packed with water like the standard, iceberg lettuce heads (my favorite for taco salad dishes). It's a little more dense. It's a little more dry. And it's a lot more tasty. You didn't think lettuce had a taste? Try home-grown lettuce. It's incredible.

I suppose the same is true with the radishes that are now spring from the soil with abundance. That round, red globe in the market produce section does indeed look like a radish. Unfortunately, it doesn't have the kind of snap-to-attention taste that a purple, pink or yellow Easter Egg radish has.

Venus' Used and Abused Salad Spinner

I suppose what I'm trying to tell you here is that this isn't just a salad. You can find an ordinary salad just about anywhere. Nope, this is better described as an experience. And our spring experience is just getting started, provided the blast-furnace of summer doesn't snap on a little too early.

It's spring. Time for a salad or two.

Wait! We Haven't Had Winter Yet!

Santa Rosa Plum in Full Bloom

Spring has Sprung. All about the yard. In the front. In the back. The signs are everywhere. This winter has seen some frost. We've seen some cold days. But we've seen very little in the way of rain.

Which makes me a bit nervous when I see signs like the one to your right. It's a pretty sign to be sure. If you dedicate your yard to all things vegetable and fruit gardening -- the yard can look a little gray and gloomy during those cold winter months.

But that all changes with the onset of a new season. Suddenly? That damp, dark and dreary landscape has exploded in a virtual kaleidoscope of colorful flowers and blooms. Not everything has busted out for the 2012 season just yet.

Flavortop, Fantasia and Arctic Jay Necartines

But it's clear that the starter's gun has gone off.

The nectarines and Santa Rosa plum have been the first to emerge from their long slumber. There are green buds and a single white flower on the Flavor Finale Pluot. The grapes (which I've yet to cut back and prepare) are even showing those familiar signs of green.

Guess what the next Back 40 project is?

Although I welcome the end of a dark and dreary winter season -- the onset of spring does bring some concerns. We received little in the way of actual rainfall this year. During normal years? It takes a good set of mud resistant boots to traverse much of the muddy landscape that is the Bird Back 40.

Daffodils Jumping Out of Planter Box

Not this year. Normal tennis shoes will gain access to every corner. This is a first. I've never seen it quite this dry before.

That is a concern -- because if you're going to garden -- water is an essential element. Yes -- you can install the most efficient of drip and sprinkler systems. Yes -- you can take measures to ensure that not a drop of this precious resource is wasted. But -- the bottom line is -- even the most efficient of watering systems puts a strain on a valuable resource we didn't get much of in the way of rain and snowfall this year.

So -- while I welcome spring and the colors that the season brings to our backyard of fruit and vegetables -- I keep a wary eye trained on the sky.

Is that all for this year?

Let's hope not. Spring is here.

(D)ILLIN!

Dill Weed in a raised bed-Bird Back 40

I suppose I should have some really neato rap music with this post -- but while there are many descriptions for rap music -- "neato" isn't one of them. Besides -- rappers aren't singing about melons.

Well -- they are. But not the kind of melons that I have growing in the garden this year.

As the photo to the right will attest -- this has become rather common in the garden this year. I give you a surprise growth of DILL. As you can plainly tell from the photo -- it's growing like a WEED. Thus the name: Dill Weed.

Had some ingenious canner/gardener not discovered a perfect use for this weed in a jar of DILL PICKLES -- I sometimes wonder if it would be as appreciated as it is in the spice world.

Dill Flowers: A MUST HAVE for Dill Pickles

I didn't plant this by the way. Although I've harvested lots of dill seed from previous plantings -- I rarely need to plant it anymore. Like most weeds in the yard -- it just sort of springs up here and there (sort of like volunteer tomato plants that are popping up all over the yard at the moment). Unfortunately -- Venus and I have never been able to quite time out our dill harvest with our harvest cucumber pickles.

At this point in time -- May 21st, 2011 -- our cucumer plantings have barely unfurled a first true leaf. They're clearly "on their way," but we won't see true slicing or pickling cucumbers for another month or two. And by that time? The dill flowers that are popping open right now -- which would be the perfect addition to any jar of dill pickles -- will be a distant memory.

Freeze or Not to Freeze? That is the question

So -- what is a gardener who would die for a good dill pickle to do then? I've half a mind to start cutting off some of these flowers -- toss them into a sandwich bag and freeze them for later use. Then again, I'd rather use fresh -- not frozen -- dill during the canning process. When it comes to home-grown canning efforts -- I like everything that goes into that jar to come straight from the yard on that particular canning day.

I can't quite bring myself to cut it down yet either. A stalk of dill like this -- with dill flowers slowly unfurling -- is one of the prettiest spots in the entire Bird Back 40. Although it will feel like a crime to cut it out -- it's in one of the raised beds that is targeted for summer garden use later this weekend.

I'm not sure if it's age or gardening or both (or even cheap gin for that matter) -- but there's just nothing quite like the beauty of spring in a backyard garden. I notice and appreciate far more things now than I ever did in my younger years. It doesn't matter if it's bees happily buzzing about the garden -- or a growth of dill like this -- or perhaps that clump of California poppies that has emerged across the other side of the yard.

It all spells that magic word of spring. And -- thanks to a wife that has the absolute, most greenest thumb on God's Green Earth -- I get to enjoy a lot of scenes like this through the spring and summer months.

Yes -- it's just a weed. But it's also a sight to behold.

Welcome to the Jungle!!!

2011 Heirloom Tomato Plant Starters

Like the song says -- "It gets worse here everyday."

Little did Guns N' Roses know that they would be singing about MY heirloom tomato plant starters!

Look at it and weep kids -- this is the SAD state of Bill & Venus Bird's heirloom seed starting effort later this year. The plants to your right have now shot past the shoplights. I can't set them any higher. Those lights are on the highest setting I have.

Never in my life did I think that I would grow three foot high heirloom tomato plant starters -- but the pictures do not lie. This is the sad state of a Bird bedroom at the moment. And with the rain pounding against a windowsill on a dreary and dark Saturday afternoon -- combined with gardening areas that are completely waterlogged -- I have come to the following conclusion:

There will be no "early spring planting" this year. Heck -- I'm still waiting for a day resembling spring to arrive. I haven't seen it. Nobody in Northern California has. And -- as bad as we have it down in the Natomas basin (that's the riverbottom folks) -- heirloom tomato growers further up the hill have it even worse than we do.

Welcome to the Tomato Jungle

Those gardens are buried under a couple of feet of fresh snowfall. Know what that means? Tomato season is still more than a few weeks off my friends.

It would not have been safe to plant out now anyway. April weather in these parts is rather "fickle." Still -- most of us gardening types would have at least liked a glimpse or two of spring sunshine. But there's been nothing like it around here for far too long.

My only hope? Next week's weather forecast. I must say, it does look rather promising. But that's next week. What am I supposed to do with these monsters in the meantime?

My attempts to encourage stronger and thicker stem growth have most been a failure. Three weeks ago the wonderful wife that is Venus and I staked each starter plant and started feeing them with fish emulsion fertilizer, which is nitrogen-rich.

Canopy of GREEN!

The end result? Oh, the starter plants flourished alright. You can tell that by the photos. But instead of encouraging stem growth, the staking and fertilizing resulted leggy plants that are now ten inches to a foot higher than they were three weeks ago. There's no doubt in my mind now that I will have to transplant these leggy starters into larger cups during the hardening off process -- that much is sure.

But the real danger is -- after transplanting -- is that Venus and I will lose the use of the shuttle trays that have made transportation such a snap. Each tray holds ten starter cups. Moving fifty starter plants from one place to another isn't all that difficult when you're dealing with five trays.

However -- moving fifty individual starter plants from one place to another does present a host of problems. The shuttle trays will not accommodate the larger sized transplant cups -- which means we will have to move each starter plant by hand, two to three at a time.  Although we could probably do this once or twice, it can't be a regular part of the hardening off process.



Leggy Starters: Still Leggy!



So, we'll hope and pray that next week's warm weather will at least stick around for awhile. While the plants will be placed under a covered patio that will guard them from rain and direct sun, it won't guard against another cold, howling rainstorm that lasts for days (or weeks) on end.

So, it is somewhat of a gamble.

But -- should the sunshine and warmer temperatures arrive next week as the forecasts promise -- and stick around -- the payoff will be bushy and vibrant heirloom tomato plant starters during plantout. The thought of a spring rain doesn't bother me much. In fact, the plants seem to like a warm drenching from time to time.

However, should another cold, gusty, gully-buster arrive in mid-April? That spells trouble with a capital T. I'd come home to the rather distressing sight of heirloom tomato plant starters tossed about the Back 40.

That's never a good sign. Keep your fingers crossed. Mine most certainly are.

For You, My Love

OK, I'll admit it.

I'm a sap.

Really -- truly -- I'm just a big baby in extra medium men's size clothing. I sometimes wonder why I am not like other men -- perhaps it was the way I was raised without a father -- I'm just not sure. I may look like a "big guy." But inside -- I'm just a softie.

I demonstrate this in so many ways -- from hanging bird feeders in the yard to entertain or tease the housecats to no end -- or think of new and imaginative ways to please the wife that is Venus.

One of the events that I look forward too every spring is the first rose of the year. Springtime roses are the best in my personal opinion. This is when buds are at a peak size and burst out in a glory of color. They also make for the best cutting roses -- if you can get to them before the spring rains spoil that short moment of beauty.

Such an event took place this past weekend. I knew we were in for a whale of a storm the coming week. Some of the rose bushes scattered about the backyard were just beginning to flower. So why not get a bud while the getting is good -- right?

I found this gorgeous white with green-tinges John F. Kennedy (JFK) rose in the deepest -- most remote -- part of the backyard. Why did I put it there? Well -- it was a transplant from the first home. It had not done all that well during its first six years -- and to be honest -- it wasn't one of my favorites. But -- since it was in a line of rose bushes that we were removing from the old home -- it had to go somewhere.

So -- I found an out of the way corner in a part of the backyard that nobody really visits -- dug a small hole and that's where the JFK went.

Imagine my surprise when it not only flowered the following spring -- but produced an overwhelming display of force that I had never seen out of this particular rose bush before. By all accounts -- it should not have done this well. I didn't amend the planter hole much -- the bush was right next to the house and a fence. It didn't get a whole lot of sun. It didn't get a whole lot of water either (just a single drip emitter).

Today? The JFK is a showpiece of the backyard. And it produced the first -- perfectly shaped rose -- of Spring 2010. The stem was perfect -- about 15-inches in length. No other roses were developing off this stem -- and the rose had just barely started to open. Perhaps two petals had unfurled at the point where I cut it and brought it inside.

The timing really could not have been better. The wife was showering. Her eyes were closed. After putting the JFK in a simple bud vase and filling it with water -- I placed it right next to a bathroom sink that the wife uses. When she finally emerged? I had already "left the building," and she was greeted with a single hybrid tea rose.

One week later and that rose has now unfurled completely and is still putting on a grand show in the dining room.

There will be other roses this season -- that much is sure. The center-piece of the backyard? The Floribunda called Scentimental? It's nearly as high as the fence now -- it's just loaded with buds -- but is still a week away from flowering. Other nearby bushes are also starting to show some color and a few buds have opened here and there.

But nothing is putting on quite the show like the old, reliable, JFK.

This is for you my dear Venus. Rest assured my dear wife -- this is just a start. I will continue to remind you of your dazzling beauty -- and my love for you -- all summer long.

No Hangover Here!

Well -- OK -- maybe that's just a tiny fib.

Or -- it could also be construed as a big, fat lie following Super Bowl Sunday.

I find it quite amazing actually -- that a surprising number of people developed "flu like" symptoms at some point after the Super Bowl last night and they didn't quite make it to work today.

That would include a -- ahem -- special wife named Venus.

The name of my flu? It's the "Gilbey's" strain. No -- not quite as serious as the H1N1 variety (also known as the Swine Flu) -- but it can still kick you pretty hard after you've been "exposed" to this particular virus over a long course of time.

Perhaps I wasn't exposed for long enough last night -- or perhaps I've been stricken with a repellant known as "Spring Fever." No -- I know it's not spring quite yet. I know that "Lake Bird" isn't going to dry up in the backyard anytime soon (much to my chagrin).

However -- there are signs -- like this one to the right -- that "spring" is in the air. These daffodils represent "Venus Magic." They are the first daffodils to spring up anywhere that I've seen in North Natomas. And they're springing up in abundance now -- all over the front yard.

So -- while I had this strange desire to remain in bed this morning -- the desire to go outside and photograph these daffodils was even stronger. Spring Fever wins out. The calendar doesn't say it's springtime just yet -- but there's just no ignoring what's coming up like roses in the front yard.

Spring.

As much as I'd like too -- I can't really tell you what varieties of daffodils these are. I should know -- but alas -- I don't. We probably purchased these bulbs in bags of ten several years ago from the Man's Toy Store (Home Depot) or perhaps even Capital Nursery.

That's one of the few *nice* things I can say about the clay muck sludge that doubles as "soil" in North Natomas. Bulbs love it. Any bulb. It doesn't matter if it's a daffodil, tulip or even freesia. The bulbs come up in the spring -- die back in the summer -- split during the fall and winter --and come right back up again in early spring.

In another month or two? The tulips will be doing the same thing. How can I tell? They're already popping out of the ground. And -- if this steady rain keeps up? The more the better.

Although the bright yellow show around the front yard is enough to get your average gardener excited -- that's not the only show starting to emerge. The first bloom of the 2010 Fresh Fruit Season also emerged on Super Bowl Sunday.

Does this rather blurry photo taken by a bad photographer with a two-cent digital camera indicate the first Santa Rosa Plum of the 2010 Fresh Fruit Season? Can't tell quite yet -- but it's another indication that the long, cold, bitter days and nights of winter are nearly at an end.

The signs of early Spring are upon us.

What's Bloomin' at the Bird House?

Ah spring, when a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love....

Or, in my case, heirloom tomatoes.

With all due respects to the great poet that is Alfred Lord Tennyson and my dear wife, that "young man" age went out with the 1963 Dodge Dart (starburst-neon green Dodge Dart I might add), my Foreigner casette tape of "Double Vision" (Hot Blooded, check it and see) and my acid-washed jeans.

Actually, I still have those jeans somewhere. Lord knows they don't fit anymore. Nor would anyone want them to fit.

I guess the point that I'm trying to make here is -- as you grow older -- you begin to appreciate what the spring season really means. There was a time in my life where winter -- and cold weather -- was "all that." Not anymore. I just don't like it when it's 33 and foggy outside. Give me sunshine. Give me warmth. And give me a show of daffodils and tulips blooming in the front yard.

Venus planted these daffodils during the first fall at the new home in North Natomas. And -- true to that lady's green thumb -- they came up again this year. As a matter of fact, every tulip and daffodil bulb she planted at the old home continues to sprout -- and each year those numbers grow as the bulbs grow, and then split into new bulbs.

But the most exciting part of spring -- to me that is -- is to watch the dormant, dead looking fruit trees suddenly spring to life. That happened about three weeks ago for this O'Henry Peach tree in the backyard. This is just the second year for this tree -- and you can barely see the bark on the branches through all of the pink peach blossoms. And the smell is -- well -- heavenly.

This is truly an exciting moment for me. This small tree produced perhaps ten to 12 blossoms last year -- its first in the backyard. And now? It's just covered with blossoms. This is one reason why Venus and I took the extra step of purchasing a hive of bees -- and one of my biggest concerns about the new yard.

Despite the number of blooms on just this one tree -- I haven't seen one single, solitary bee. Now, while it's true that peach trees don't necessarily need bees to pollinate, who are we kidding? Imagine this one tree full of bees. Then, imagine this one tree full of young peaches. It doesn't take much to take that next step. We will get peaches off this tree this year -- but not nearly as much as I was hoping for.

But the O'Henry peach isn't the only tree blooming in the front and backyard this pre-spring season. So is another peach variety called June Pride (Can you guess that perhaps I like peaches?). True to its name, the June Pride is designed to deliver a peach harvest in late June and early July. The O'Henry Peach will deliver its crop in late July and early August.

This means three solid months of peach harvests, which I can't argue with.

Venus and I purchased the June Pride and the O'Henry trees last February from Silverado Nursery. And although we planted before the spring bloom hit, the June Pride failed to deliver a single bloom -- which means it failed to deliver a single peach. As you can probably tell by the photo to your right, I'm hoping that won't be a problem this year. This photo is two weeks old and now the June Pride, much like the O'Henry, is covered with scads of pink blossoms.

But this isn't the only blooming thing taking place in our North Natomas backyard. This one single bloom (it's blurry -- I'm not great with a digital camera -- so sue me)? This belongs to the Lapin Cherry tree -- which the wife and I also purchased -- and planted -- last February. And this represents the very first cherry blossom this tree has produced. It will be the first of many, as I see shades of white about to burst out all over this tree.

Does this mean cherries are in our immediate backyard future? Tough to say. The Lapin is also known as a "self-fruiting Bing," which means it doesn't require another cherry tree to pollinate. It does have one nearby in the form of a Royal Ranier cherry tree (purchased this year), but it doesn't need it.

Still -- blossoms don't necessarily translate into fruit production. It's a good sign, of course, but I sure would feel better if some lonely beehive would discover our backyard.


Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.

A Prayer in Spring
Robert Frost (1915)