In spite of the nasty pollen counts that make my eyes itch and my nose swell, I ventured out into the backyard yesterday to give my badly neglected garden some TLC. Between last summer’s drought and last autumn’s miscarriage, I just didn’t do any of the things I’d planned out. The general apathy has now mostly worn off, and I was able to approach our weird little yard with something like interest. Too late to put in blackberries this year. But I got out there and weeded and clawed up the soil around the surviving plants and generally worked myself till I was a little wobbly in the knees.
My mongrel irises are getting ready to bloom. I don’t think they’ll make it to Easter. Oh well. One year, the irises and Easter will coincide. Then again, my irises bloom purple, so maybe it’s more appropriate for them to bloom during Lent?
My Texas honeysuckle didn’t die during last summer’s drought! It didn’t die when a mound of fire ants moved in over it’s roots! It is, incredibly, blooming.
The other honeysuckle isn’t thriving quite as vigorously, and it hasn’t put out buds yet, but it’s still doing quite well. It was a little smaller, and was hit harder by the drought. We’re going to mount trellises to the fence this spring for them to climb, and maybe next year we’ll be able to rig some sort of arch between the two to make a full arbor.