*Lyrics from You’re No Good, as sung by Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers. Their van sessions have been making their way around the interwebs, and for good reason. They’re good. I expect we’ll be seeing/hearing more from them in the not too distant future.

With this kind you really only need to trim off the dead heads. The plants are less mysterious. No growth = not gonna grow there. You just have to be patient and wait for them to begin to grow.

Every year, around this time, I start the process of waking up the yard from its long winter’s slumber. Now, this particular winter has been unusually mild, so the cleaning up post-winter, post-nothing has been mostly effortless (I should reveal that we have our lawn cared for by our local organic yard care guru, so we don’t have to seed, fertilize, aerate, de-thatch or de-grub). The only real task at hand was to cut back the dead bits of hydrangea to make way for the new blooms. I’ve read many a conflicting report about when to do this – some say fall pruning is best, after the summer blooms have faded, while others say never to prune them – but I’ve found that the two-fold benefits of pruning in early spring, just after the leaves begin to sprout, works best for me. The fact that I can remove dead stems, dead heads and give the plant fewer areas to focus its energy on (and therefore send all its energy to producing blooms and leaves) is a win-win in my book.

read on…

*Lyrics from Mumford & Sons’ song Winter Winds, from their album Sigh No More.

Spring has finally, and truly, begun here in the northeast and I couldn’t be happier. It’s that wonderful time of year, before the allergies really kick in, and before the mosquitoes take over (though I confess to already having two bites from one walk sans socks). Before you realize that soon you’ll be showing your legs to the world (by hook or by crook, shorts are an evil necessity in summer), soon you’ll be wishing you can have a third shower every day, and that soon you’ll be exhausted at the thought of turning on a single burner to cook (and you can forget baking). For now, we can remain blissful in the awakening of our landscape, our newfound bird and squirrel population (a point driven home by a surge in roadkill being picked clean by crows), our ability to occasionally open the windows to let a fresh, slightly warm breeze into the house. It is a joyous time, made especially joyous by the bountiful buds and blooms that begin to emerge as if gifts (as our neighbors like to say) from Mother Nature herself. Gifts they are, slowly unwrapping, slowly and carefully making us stop dead in our tracks as we see yet another hit of color in our formerly brown-gray, seemingly lifeless vistas.

read on…

*Version by The Airborne Toxic Event, lyrics by Magnetic Fields.

As the last bits of winter melt away (though we are expecting another winter storm this Friday), and as my efforts to recover from dentist-induced injuries continue, I find myself reflecting on the changes that have occurred in the past year, and the past ten years, really. In the past year we’ve: met our contractors for the first time; signed contracts and pulled permits; spent more money than we knew we had/had to; renovated our kitchen and three bathrooms (almost done with the last bathroom); had our entire house rewired; painted every inch of trim and walls in the first floor (except the ceiling and crown moldings), and half of the second; and started friendships that will (hopefully) last the rest of our days.

read on…