March Madness at our House

953311 basket game March Madness at our House

For most of the country, March Madness 2012 ended with last weekend’s championship game. For many Iowans, like my husband, the madness ended in the second round when the Iowa State Cyclones, the team that beat the reigning champs in the first round, lost to Kentucky in the second.

But for other Iowans, like me, the March madness continues, not on the basketball court, but in our flowerbeds. This year’s mild weather was mentioned in a previous post, and afterwards spring marched through March like mad. In fact, so unbeleivable was spring’s onslaught that on the last day of the month, I used my camera to make a record of the mad, mad, mad, mad spring of 2012. Crazy stuff, unheard of in Central Iowa. Stuff like

bleeding hearts blooming in March,

IMG 0643 300x200 March Madness at our House

along with tulips,

IMG 0647 300x200 March Madness at our House

and more tulips,

IMG 0644 300x200 March Madness at our House

and violets.

IMG 0652 300x200 March Madness at our House

Not to mention buds on the clematis

IMG 0651 300x200 March Madness at our House

and the lilacs, too,

IMG 0646 300x200 March Madness at our House

rhubarb almost ready to be picked,

IMG 0645 300x200 March Madness at our House

and the roses in full leaf.

IMG 0648 300x200 March Madness at our House

Only the wild plum tree blossoms, usually the first of the spring flowers to bloom, waited until their usual time to appear.

IMG 0653 300x200 March Madness at our House

Surrounded by the many evidences of this mad spring, the plum tree nearly escaped my notice, until the fragrance of the blossoms wafted on the breeze and tickled my nose. A lovely March Madness I pray will rule at our house until the end of May.

Speaking of the Weather…

767009 dry Speaking of the Weather...

For a couple weeks after the caucuses, Iowans were conditioned by political pollsters to give short answers on the phone we almost forgot how to engage in casual conversation. But since the ISU Cyclones defeated fifth ranked KU over the weekend, conversation has picked up quite nicely in our little state. Even after the “How’s about them Cyclones?” talk dies down, I think the weather will give us plenty to talk about.

Optimists can talk about how nice it is to walk to the mailbox in shirtsleeves in January.
Environmentalist can talk about how this month’s weather is a sure sign of global warming.
Farmers can talk about how Elwynn Taylor thinks the drought of ’12 is coming down.

For those of you who’ve never heard of Elwynn Taylor, he’s an uncannily accurate Iowa State University extension climatologist. He studies long term climate patterns and predicts long term trends rather than day-to-day weather.

In July, if he predicts a snowy winter, you’d be wise to buy a snowshovel.
But if he predicts a mild winter, don’t buy a new winter coat.
In January, if he predicts the summer will be wet, cancel the cabin at the lake.
If he predicts a flood, buy a boat.
And if he predicts a drought, take it seriously.
Guess which one he’s predicting for this summer?

A drought.

Which means I’m taking out stock in a garden hose company.
Because the last time Elwynn predicted a bad drought was in January of ’88.
When the dry fall and winter weather pattern was similar to this fall and winter.
When La Nina was getting old.
When Alaska had lots of snow.

I was three months pregnant with Anne way back then. By the time Anne was born in July, the drought was awful. To be clear, Elwynn didn’t know about my pregnancy, so it didn’t figure into his prediction.

But, even if ISU loses every game for the rest of the summer, my shelf of conversation starters is well-stocked for the rest of 2012. I’ll be the life of every party, chatting about Elwynn Taylor drought predictions, pregnancy during drought stories, and labor during drought stories. Really fascinating stuff.

So, when would you like me to come to dinner at your house?

The Creek

shapeimage 1 557 300x171 The Creek

I wasn’t planning to post today, but one look at the creek during my morning walk and I changed my mind. After heavy rains the past two nights, our normally quiet little stream is a noisy torrent, overflowing its banks.

My flower beds are saturated so I took advantage of the wet and pulled more dandelions, quack grass and clover. While I weeded I discovered the warm, wet weather has put spring on the fast track. The rhubarb’s bigger than it was yesterday, and the first stalk of asparagus has sprouted. Two days ago, all my clematis looked dead. Today, every one of them is budding. And by afternoon, the magnolia will be blooming.

The forecast for the next few days will put a halt to things pretty darn quick. Our faithful and highly accurate ISU climatologist, Elwynn Taylor, says we’re in for the eighth of the seven arctic blasts predicted for the winter of 2007-2008. So highs will only be in the 50s for several more days.

I’m bummed, but I can handle it unless we get a frost and the magnolia blossoms get nipped. If that happens I may go berserk and rip out the asparagus patch.

Actually, that’s not a bad idea…

The End Is Near

shapeimage 1 791 300x171 The End Is Near

About a week ago, I interviewed Cindy Haynes, an ISU horticulture professor concerning an article for the April issue of Facets. Dr. Haynes took me on a tour of the horticulture department’s greenhouses and conservatory so I could get some pictures to accompany the story. I thought some plant pictures would add a nice touch to a gardening article. Where do I come up with these crazy ideas?

For a few minutes in the warm greenhouse, the air heavy with humidity and the scent of flowers and dirt, life was good. The temperature outside was a wintery eleven degrees, but inside the glass walls April had arrived. It was hard to leave, and the cold was cruel as I walked back to my car. The tantalizing hint of spring left me feeling bummed until I downloaded pictures of tulips and daffodils and looked at them until the hope of spring gave me strength to face the remaining weeks of winter.

On this last day of February, Leap Day no less, maybe you need hope, too. With gas prices soaring the stock market falling, the housing market a mess and the glacier on our driveway rock solid, a little hope goes a long way.  So I’m sharing these pictures, too pretty to hoard and vital for mental health, with you.

Feast your eyes on the future. Spring is almost here.