Spring is Coming

There's been a lot of really heavy stuff in the blogs lately, so I thought I'd lighten the mood a little and talk about gardens. I start seeds in the house the first of March. I have flowers in the front of my house, and veggies in the back. There wasn't much in the yard when I moved in. Now I always have something blooming, from the early crocus to the last of the hollyhocks and chrysanthemums. The hollyhocks are fun because they cross-pollinate and reseed easily, so there are always new colors. Dianthus and other flowers attract butterflies.

Lavendar Hollyhock: My lavender Hollyhock

Every plant, no matter what size, breathes in carbon dioxide and exhales oxyen. We can improve the air in and around our own houses by planting a lot of flowers and veggies. There's nothing like sun ripened tomatoes and strawberries.

The following editorial is from the July 1984 issue of Organic Gardening magazine. It has been a great
inspiration to me since I first read it..

Plant Hope, Grow Happiness

"Elzeard Bouffier tended 30 sheep in the remote region where
the Alps thrust down into Provence. It was a barren,
colorless land-baked by a merciless sun, gnawed by
wind and rain, abandoned by all but a few defeated
peasants. That's how it was, early in this century,
when a thirsty hiker in search of water came upon
Bouffer with his sheep near a deserted village.
Bouffier gave the hiker a drink from his water gourd,
took him to his cottage, and shared his evening soup
with the traveler. There was peace in being with this
man, the hiker later recalled. And he was fascinated

the next day when the shepherd gathered up a sack of
100 acorns, along with an iron rod,and strode to the
top of a nearby ridge. There he began plunging his
rod into the earth, making hole after hole into which
he planted acorns with utmost care. Did the land
belong to him? No, he told the hiker. He didn't know
whose it was. But it was his opinion that this land
was dying for lack of trees. And, as a 55-year-old
widower-with no pressing business, he said-he resolved
to do something about it. So in the past 3 years he
had planted 100,000 acorns. Of these, 20,000 had
sprouted. And of the 20,000, he expected 10,000 trees
to survive and flourish where nothing had grown
before. They would be magnificent in another 30
years, the hiker assured him. But the shepherd
answered, simply that in 30 years he would have
planted so many more that these 10,000 would be like a
drop of water in the ocean. He was right. Through
two world wars, he continued to plant. Ignoring
meddlesome government officials, he continued to
plant. And many years later, in 1945 when the hiker
returned, he said that "it took the name of a village
to convince me that I was in the region that had been
all ruin and desolation". Everything was changed.
Even the air. Instead of harsh winds, a gentle breeze
was blowing, laden with scents. The dried-up streams
were flowing again. The people had returned-hearty
men and laughing women. And, as far as the eye could
see, there were the lush green forests that had made
it all possible."