What a day. It's actually a little too warm for comfort, not that I'm complaining. The furnace isn't sucking propane, and the air conditioner hasn't been turned on, so we're saving money. I hung three loads of clothes on the clothesline, which means Kansas City Power and Light isn't getting rich from my dryer use.
There are some down sides to the mild winter we've had: I'm sure ticks will be a problem, since we didn't have much freezing weather to set them back. These temperatures in the eighties are making buds swell, and I'd be very surprised if we don't get a freeze that will kill the local peach crop.
Nothing's perfect, so I'm just going to enjoy the weather, no matter what the consequences.
I usually plant some potatoes on St. Patrick's Day, just because it's a family tradition to do so. However, I decided to plant them today on my daughter's birthday instead, mainly because the moon sign is right (I don't really think it makes a difference, but it can't hurt). I planted onions, too. I love going barefoot in the freshly tilled garden dirt, and that's what I did today as I ran the tiller and planted things.
Once again, the cows are out in the pasture, grazing. I think they're about done eating hay.
The weather has straightened up to the point that I can go outside every morning at first daylight and see which flowers are blooming, and what seeds have germinated and sprung up in the garden. That's how I like to start the day.
Once again I'm having quite a problem with my knees; going uphill or ascending steps is very painful lately, so that I limp my way along during much of our daily walk. I think I'm going to have to let Cliff do the hills by himself, and I'll walk around on the level until he rejoins me.
So here I am weighing the consequences of going to the orthopedist. Unless I go, I don't know whether I have other options besides knee replacement. If it's time for knee replacement, do I want to be laid up in summer? We'd have to cancel our motorcycle plans, and I doubt that I could do much gardening while recuperating. On the other hand, right now we have two insurances: Cliff's plan from work, and my Medicare Complete; once he retires, it will only be Medicare. I can't help but think about the people I've heard of who developed staph infection after knee surgery and almost died. There are so many things to consider, but of course if I don't go to the orthopedist, I won't be making any decision.
OK, my whining is done for this day; after all, it could be worse: My knees don't hurt when I'm sitting or lying down.
My sister, as always, brought back bushels of grapefruit from Texas. They are especially appreciated this year, since there was no crop last year.
Grapefruits must have been fairly cheap when I was a kid, because I remember we had them fairly often. Mother taught me to eat them by slicing them in half, sprinkling a teaspoon of sugar on each half, and digging my spoon into each section one by one, bringing out a nice little juicy spoonful of fruit. When I had gotten all I could with my spoon, I'd squeeze the half-grapefruit onto my plate, pick up the plate to my mouth, and slurp all the juice as though drinking from a cup. I never did have very good table manners.
Nowadays I stand over the sink or step outside, peel the grapefruit like an orange, eat the pulp from each section and toss the bitter membrane. There's no need for sugar on these Texas grapefruits.
If we don't go for a motorcycle ride today, I'll mow the yard. It's looking pretty bad.
I haven't been blogging as much lately, nor am I reading as many blogs as usual. I guess I'm just in a slump, or maybe it's spring fever. I don't know when I've ever been so happy to see spring arrive as I am this year.
We're finally getting some genuine spring weather. In Missouri, that means changing clothes several times a day: When I wake up, sweats and a coat are required for a trip outside, because it's been 40 or lower each morning. By 11 AM, it's shirt-sleeve weather and at 3 PM, I'm wearing shorts and a tank top. Then in the late evening it's either back to the sweats, or else time to put on my flannel PJ's. I'm not complaining; this is an altogether pleasant time of year, as long as there are no tornadoes heading my way.
Yesterday we rode the motorcycle to Sedalia and ate lunch there. At the edge of town I saw a huge store I'd never heard of, and said to Cliff, "I wonder what kind of store Menards is?"
"Oh," he replied, "Rena said those stores were everywhere in Wisconsin; they're like Home Depot or Lowes, I think; I'd like to go in there and look around."
So after lunch, we went back. Of course we were limited in what we could buy, being on the motorcycle. I bought a package of gladiola bulbs, thirty for $2.50. They're certainly worth that, even if I don't bother to dig them up this fall. $2.50 for thirty lovely blooming plants for one summer? You bet!
We agreed that Menards seems to have lower prices than their competition; if they ever put a store in the Kansas City area, we'll be patronizing them. Unfortunately, the KC area is so saturated with the competitors, I'm not sure there's room for another such type of store. The one at Sedalia is our closest one, and that's an hour and a half drive.
Are any of my readers familiar with Menards?
Cliff and I had to go after one of his prescriptions this morning; which didn't leave us sufficient time to take our walk by the time I fixed dinner and we ate. After he went to work, I dug a pair of shorts out of a drawer (yes, SHORTS!) and Sadie and I headed out; I decided to walk barefoot. Oh, it's a fine day here in Missouri.
Adam's horses haven't been back begging hay at the barn since they left the pen, early this morning.
Bonnie and Sir Loin have stayed out in the big pasture all day, too. Notice the grass hanging from Bonnie's mouth.
At almost nine months of age, Sir Loin could be weaned. Probably should be. But once he's weaned, I either have to let Bonnie go dry or milk her every day. I'm really not ready to do either. When the time comes, we'll either take him to Cliff's brother's place long enough for him to forget his mother's milk, or else haul him straight to the butcher shop. I'd really like to bring him back here and use him as a heat detecter so I'll know when his mom is in heat; once we called the AI man, we'd take Sir to the butcher.
There's still snow in the shady, wooded areas.
I walked barefoot through a small patch. Just because it was there.
Then, back at the house, I walked barefoot through the snow to clean the mud off my feet.
I'm glad I got out and enjoyed today, because tomorrow's high temperatures aren't supposed to get out of the forties.
I don't remember what all I planted last fall, but I think this must be a crocus; please correct me if I'm wrong. The snow melted and there it was, a bright spot in a soggy yard. It's such a tiny little thing, it's a wonder I didn't miss it completely.
The tulips have all emerged; I hope they wait to bloom until April, when my friend Joanna is here.
The temperature is 52 at 4 P.M., so I took my baby tomato plants out for a walk and left them in the sun for awhile. They'll get another breath of fresh air tomorrow, when it's supposed to get up into the sixties. Maybe they won't look so pale after some sunshine.
OK, maybe you can't call them plants yet, just germinated seeds. But still, it means there's life there. (Click on the picture if you have trouble seeing the seedlings.)
One thing I neglected to mention in my entry last night was the actual spring-like weather we had yesterday: The sun was shining and temperatures got up around fifty, I think. There was a pretty stiff breeze, so it still felt coolish. But it was the best weather day we've had since sometime in November, or maybe even before that. Today it's overcast and rain is headed our way soon; but the temperature is still more like it should be this time of year. Today is the first time in ages that the ground hasn't been frozen solid when I went out to do morning chores. There are better days ahead, folks!
Where it once was a frozen tundra, it's now mud. At least the top two inches is mud; under that it's frozen.
This kind of mud makes walking a real adventure. Thank goodness for my Muck boots.
I almost lost my balance a couple of times, and wouldn't THAT have been messy?
I know spring is coming, because I can finally see the ground in parts of my yard!
The trees know spring is coming, too; look at the buds.
The hyacinth knows winter is almost over.
So today, I planted tiny tomato seeds in my miniature greenhouse. There were four spots left after I'd used all the tomato seeds, so I put cauliflower seeds in those.
Last fall I bought a crepe myrtle tree really cheap; I planted it in the front yard and it seemed to thrive, but in the back of my mind I kept wondering how it would fare in winter: Crepe Myrtle is really a southern tree. However, the information attached to it at Home Depot said this was a variety developed for our area. When the winter weather turned so vicious and stayed that way, I had my doubts whether that tree would make it.
The best I can tell, it's dead. It's no big loss; I think I only paid $5 for it on clearance. But I know not to try crepe myrtle again; it's a tree... or shrub... of the south.
As I always do lately on sunny days, I went outside as soon as it was fully daylight. The first thing I did was remove upside-down containers from over the tomato plants, and straw from the pepper plants. I'm guessing all those precautions weren't necessary, but one never knows. I've babied those plants for so long, I'd hate to lose them now.I transplanted my herbs outside, too. I don't know how they'll take to it, but something had to be done; they had totally outgrown their container.I've planted more flowers. I transplanted some Savoy cabbage plants I grew in the garden from seed, and found the half-row of turnips I had been looking for. Sheesh. I should have recognized that they weren't radishes!
Yes, I realize most people plant turnips in autumn, but sometimes when we have a cool, wet spring like this one, turnips do all right in spring. Do you know the old rhyme about turnips? Plant them "the twenty-fifth of July, wet or dry"; and harvest them "the twenty-fifth of October, drunk or sober."
When I first went outside this morning, the tulips were all closed up, hiding.
A couple hours later, they were opening up to the sun, and continued to open as the day went on.
Can you see the green cast? The grass Cliff sowed is coming up.
This strange-looking helicopter flew over as I was gardening. Click to see it better.
I think my knees are broken. I won't be doing much for the rest of this day.
It's almost 5 P.M. here, and it's 77 degrees. It would have been a nice day for a motorcycle ride, but Cliff decided to save his vacation day; it was somewhat windy anyway. Tomorrow is a regular day off for him, and it's supposed to be around 70, so we plan to do our riding then. We got the weekly shopping done, and I puttered around in the yard. Spring is busting out all over.
The buds on my little lilac bush are swelling.
Tulips are peeking through! I spent quite a bit of time working on those little weeds, pulling them by hand. Or should I say by finger, they're so tiny. I forget who sent me stuff on the "pay-it-forward" thing, but among the goodies she sent me were some gardening gloves. They were put to use today. I disturbed several earthworms pulling those weeds.
Inside the house, my pepper plants have all sprouted. Yes, they look pretty puny; as soon as all the tomato plants are up, I can start taking them outside when it's warm enough, to harden them off.
The tomato plants are slower to germinate, but if you look closely, you can see a few.Sadie got away again this morning. We went on to the store and when we returned, she was lying in the yard soaking up the sun. She came running to meet us as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be loose.
Whew. That dog will be the death of me yet.
Cliff had to buy license for our pickup yesterday.
We can drive eight miles to the license bureau and stand in line for an hour, or we can go on across the river to Richmond, where there's a branch inside the Orschelns store that always seems to get us through in ten minutes or less.
While Cliff was getting his license plate (by the way, this is for the pickup we thought was old enough to have a one-time, antique plate; turns out we can't do that until it's 25 years old), I strolled the aisles and came upon some garden seeds that were five packets for one dollar. What a small price to pay for a ray of hope! Yes, it's still winter; but if we had a time when the ground thawed briefly, I could sow that lettuce and it would be just fine. The peas and radishes can be planted in March. I've seen it snow on peas and not hurt them at all.Recently I was sitting in a dentist office and discovered a magazine called "Missouri Life".
I came home, looked up the website, and subscribed. This is just what Cliff and I need to plan our motorcycle jaunts! It's always more fun riding if we have a destination in mind, and this is the very thing to help us plan. 
In this first issue we received, Mexico, Missouri is featured. There's nothing that cures the winter doldrums like dreaming about spring and summer activities.
"Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'" ~Robin Williams
I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden. ~Ruth Stout
No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. ~ProverbO, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? ~Percy Bysshe Shelley
So, Christmas is over. We don't do anything big for New Year's around here, and it's a long haul until springtime.
I look forward to spring more than usual this year. I've planted several trees and shrubs, plus tulips, iris, and other posies; I'm anxious to see which ones survive and thrive. We need to plant grass for a decent lawn, although Cliff says he'd rather wait until next fall to do that: fall-planted grasses seem to do so much better, and emerge with fewer weeds. There's enough remaining pasture-grass over most of the yard so that it's not just bare dirt.
I intend to do some vegetable gardening, taking it as easy on my complaining knees as possible. For some reason, bending over to pick beans with arthritic knees is extremely painful; so I may go with pole beans this year. Or I may find myself something to sit on and move it along the row.
I hope to have tomatoes to can, but other than that, I don't intend to "put up" much produce. Canning and preserving used to be fun; now it's drudgery, and as long as our finances don't demand it, I won't do it.
I eagerly look forward to the seed catalogs, which will probably start arriving in the mailbox today.
Of course, with spring comes my annual feud with the neighbors who climb the fence onto our property and steal my morel mushrooms; I wouldn't mind at all if they'd share, but they don't. They're going to have to be more sneaky this year, because where we live now I can look out any north-facing window and see who's walking around the pasture.
This curry-comb full of hair shows you that my horse, Blue, is shedding by the handfuls.
After my husband and I took our morning walk, I put a too-big saddle on the filly, Libby, and ponied her beside Blue. Her ears weren't quite as perky as usual with this heavy saddle on her back, but she handled it.
The month-old Jersey heifer, Secret, was soaking up sunshine. It looks like she's going to end up losing about half of each ear as a result of them freezing the night she was born.
Just a big old barn I often ride past.
After riding down a long, long hill, this is where I cross the railroad tracks to the Missouri river bottoms.
Some despicable character chose to dump trash alongside the road.
Getting home from my ride, I found Cliff and a neighbor boy burning off brush and trash around and in our "dumping ditch".
Jessica and Adam keep their two horses here at our place; this horse, Tude, has to be sedated when he's shod. He was a little over-medicated yesterday, so Jessica is holding his head up.
Jessica and Adam plan to have their wedding in our pasture this coming summer, on horseback. Won't that make for some great pictures?
I hear thunder in the distance this morning. Even though that means no horseback riding today, rain would be a good thing. It'll get that pasture greened up and growing.
As usual, I'll remind you to click on any picture to enlarge.
