Well, the official start of Spring happened today. Though, that is a point of contention between my husband and myself. He thinks Spring starts with Opening Day. I think it starts when I feel the overwhelming need to weed a flower bed.
The air was warm today and the quackgrass was calling. I gleefully ripped it out by the handful and mercilessly attacked the wild garlic while I was at it. The just burgeoning dandelions did not have a chance as I wretched them out of the rain dampened soil. Chaos and destruction in the weed world is a good day in my book.
I find it kind of funny that I do not consider the appearance of flowers to be the start of Spring. The showing of snowdrops and Siberian iris are good signal flags that Spring is on her slow-ass way, but their appearance is not the start of Spring in my mind. The early flowers are more like the Secret Service of Spring. Making sure that all is ready and that winter has not laid a devious plot to assassinate her when she arrives.
But the fist time I fail to make it to my front door after coming home from the grocery store because I just wanted to pull one errant blade of grass… and 2 hours, one ruined pair of jeans and “groceries still in the carâ€ later… this has got to be Spring.
My husband can keep his silly Indian Opener as the start of Spring. I know for a fact it snowed on opening day last year, so what kind of Spring start is that? I will stick with the tried and true method of “Oh, that should not be growing there. I think I will just pull itâ€ as the real measure of when the Spring starts.