Hope’s Corner: Hope Springs Eternal

I spent the first day of spring, last Friday, weeding my back yard flower beds. Let that sink in, because this is North Dakota. We have April showers in May, and May flowers in June. We sometimes have snow in June, too. Weeding my tulips in March is a first.

The tulips have been up for a couple of weeks in my south-facing gardens. The six inches of snow last weekend did not deter their enthusiasm. According to the South Dakota State University Extension Service, tulips close to our shared border usually begin to appear in late March and early April. Mine are early risers this year. I blame the switch to Daylight Saving Time.

My yarrow and hollyhocks have been green and growing for four weeks. The yarrow was a little miffed at the one subzero night a week or so ago, but the hollyhocks merely flattened out and took it in stride. Our friends at the South Dakota Extension Service assure me both of those plant varieties normally sprout in mid-May. Maybe the frequent solar storms and northern lights displays have affected them.

Shortly after that subzero stretch in February, which Katie the Wonder Puppy and I called The Degrees of Despair, the pussywillow began to bud. I cut my first bouquet this past Friday the 13th. And did you know the blossoms are called catkins?

That shrub is only a couple weeks early in blooming. Obviously, like all cats, my pussywillow is indifferent to solar storms, the northern lights, and Daylight Saving Time. When its feet get warm enough, it stretches out and basks in the sun. Wild catnip has, however, sprouted near the pussywillow’s trunk. I suspect some deep-rooted drug dependency at work there.

But, weeds? There is wild horseradish marching across my tastefully scattered scoria chips. There is quackgrass strangling daylilies and yarrow. There are weeds of unknown name towering over my tulips. Actually, I have a name for those weeds, but that name is best kept to myself.

I pulled out one quackgrass clump, and I am pretty sure its far end stretched all the way to Gladstone. It was like pulling one of those string strips from the top of a fifty-pound sack of sunflower seeds. Not that I regularly buy fifty-pound bags of sunflower seeds for the neighborhood birds, or anything.

I was feeling pretty smug last Saturday after I finished all my weeding. I figured I would need to start mowing in a few more days. I began looking at seed catalogs and dreaming of Big Boy tomato plants.

Late Saturday evening Katie and I went outside to take in the fresh air. It was snowing. Gotta love North Dakota.

Jackie Hope is the longest running Dickinson Press contributor and columnist. Hope’s Corner is a weekly humorous column with a message of hope.