When you live on a farm, or if you choose to garden/work/play outdoors in the Midwest, there is no season as emotionally devastating as spring.
Sure, there’s the occasional fear of the summer tornado or the too-early fall frost, and of course a blizzard or two sucks a big one.
But when you’re on the tipping point of the seasonal reward that is spring, after months of brutal cold and winds and piles of snow, a delayed spring is … DEVASTATING.
As I type this, just days after the official start of spring on March 20, we are in a Winter Storm Warning with sleet, snow and thunder surrounding us on this “spring” evening.
The forecasts rolled in today and I realized there would be plenty of work to do when we got home, if we were to save what had already started to thrive.
Of course, there were the normal pig chores — made all the more difficult by the ripping wind and blinding sleet :
Then, we had to prepare for the challenge of the evening : Operation SAVE THE BULBS.
I planted these bulbs in early October, with the hopes that we would have some early color in 2016. Our farm has great flowers in June, July and August, but very few blooms in the spring.
I didn’t realize that these same bulbs would be such a pain in my ass on this frosty March evening.
This was not my first attempt at tarping. Yesterday’s tarpage flew away, all the way across the yard this morning and ended up plastered against our potting shed. I figured this out quickly this morning as the dogs feverishly barked at the newly developed Tarp Monster, threatening the homestead.
So here I sit, fully thawed from tonight’s adventure. The wind is ripping outside and the sleet is pelting the windows relentlessly. As far as I know, the tarp is holding.
But just like the arrival of spring, we will wait and see.
We keep trying,