Monday, March 29, 2010

Two heirloom apple trees ordered!

Well, I ordered two heirloom apple trees from Trees of Antiquity today! One for our new house and one for Brushwood. I was unable to get the trees I had wanted (the Karmijn de Sonnaville and the Sweet Bough both need slightly warmer locations (their hardiness zones start in Zone 6 and we're closer to a 5 here).

So I got a Smokehouse and a White Pearmain (which has been named since 1200 AD in England!), both of which are very interesting varieties. Smokehouse apples are good for cider, so that will be the Brushwood tree.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Thoughts of spring...

Went for a lovely long walk in the sunshine today, the dog happily loping alongside, sniffing at the muddy mounds laid bare by melting slush. Plenty of birds were out, including some playful chickadees flying around and chasing each other in the limps of a huge maple tree, and a big crowd of sparrows cheeping and chirping inside a group of forsythia bushes, their chests puffed out so they all looked fat. Maybe they were trying to expose their feathers to the sun. They sure sounded happy!

I know winter has a few weeks left, but when I can feel the warm sun, can see the buds and smell the soil, when there are daffodils shoots showing their green tethers, I get so excited for spring's arrival! Also, I got five garden catalogs today! Well, four, one was a duplicate, and I gave the extra to the gal who is buying our house; she was here for the inspection today. I walked around and told her what was planted where, and she seemed excited by all the possibilities. She said I must have done a lot of work; I sue did! I enjoyed it for the most part, but I do hope the soil at our new place is easier to work with.

I came across this poem by Robert Frost and it sums up my dreaming hopes for spring:

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers in the flowers today;
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.

- Robert Frost, A Prayer in Spring