4/1/12: Act Now, or Moan Later!

This recent snowfall may be Mother Nature’s last icy huff. Note that spring-blooming perennials aren’t fazed by Mama’s little fling.

Oddly, the biggest trouble facing me now are squirrels, who love to dig up tulip bulbs. The population’s high so I rely on Hav-a Hart traps. I leave mine propped open. One tiptoes in, grabs a gob of cheap, nutty peanut butter, and then escapes. Two or three visits later he gets cocky. Then I set the trap. Outraged captives are driven to a forest at least 6-8 miles away. Otherwise, they’ll be back. Squirrels have built-in GPS, but its effective range is limited to within 5-6 miles of home. (A dab of white paint on squirrelly backs tells me when I underestimate.)

Grass, the biggest plant in the garden, loves to creep. Vigorous blades that have sneaked into my beds must be pried out. If I wait, they’ll grow amongst the flowers, creating a blurred, unkempt look, and are much harder to remove later without disturbing the plants they’ve connected with.

Roses (garden royalty) may be pruned now. I trim shrubs well back, to fat buds, and always tie climbers’ canes to fences or trellises horizontally. Vertically tied canes will grow one lovely rose on top, leaving an embarrassed, naked cane below. Canes secured horizontally clothe themselves in multiple flowers.

Cleaning Lamb’s Ears (Stachys byzantina) is a trial, because so many serve as a giant necklace edging the alley rose garden. A quick drive-by will illustrate the situation. Ugh. Each matted brown, snow-limp ear wants removing, which requires patience. The remaining soft, new silver-green ears will soon plump out.

Weeds love moist, spring earth: I pry them out carefully, as their roots descend as deep as the Marianas Trench. If one breaks because I’ve hurried, another weed will develop immediately.

Les has chain-sawed my big perennial grasses to the ground. But first, we tied their middles with stout rope, making it easy to haul mountainous frond piles to the compost heap.

I’ve inspected all irrigation lines. A fallen, jagged maple tree branch had pierced one line; repair was easy, as the garden’s still semi-bald.

I won’t mulch yet, not till early June. Oh – and I won’t even think about planting annuals until then. We’ve had frosts as late as June 4.

Now’s a good time to spread Slug-go pellets around. (All local nurseries carry this expensive, but safe and effective deterrent.) Young, 100-toothed slime-balls have voracious appetites. They’ll devour an entire hosta in one night! (Slug-go dissolves the creatures, leaving only their teeth.)

Daylilies (Hemerocallis) really appreciate being divided every three years. I’ll dig up a clump – it’s easy, as they’re shallow-rooted – and pry/pull them apart after dipping clumps in a bucket of water to get rid of mud. The strongest ones are replanted. If they refuse to separate, I’ll give up: they’ve effectively strangled themselves. (Daylilies, though absolutely beautiful, aren’t terribly bright.)

Irises love being divided, too. They’re easy.

I’ve trimmed my four spirea shrubs down to about eight inches. They’ll soon grow madly.

One more thing: it’s time dig out uninvited flowering garlic (Allium), which multiply rapidly if happy. So, every three years I thin them out. Monitored, alliums offer delight without overrunning the garden. (I planted five huge bulbs a decade ago, and woke up four springs later to find so many children I didn’t know what to do. Arghhhh!!! But they are architecturally stunning for two months.)

My spring motto: A Chop In Time Saves Ninety-Nine Later….

P.S. Remember: the stunning, poisonous Lily-of-the-Valley (Convallaria) is dangerous to little children, who love its heavenly scent, lush leaves, and lovely bellflowers. (Lily’s happiest in woodland areas where she can run free, and multiply without condemnation.)

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