After a run of cold raw weather, 80 degrees today. The warmth seems to have energized a nest of wasps, who have decided that their life’s mission is to get inside the back door, into my kitchen. If they continue to pursue this track their life’s work will be…short.
The peas popped up yesterday. I thought they had rotted, but every year I think they have rotted. Every year I am wrong.
Asparagus is slowly inching out of the ground, with no harvest since those first two ambitious spears. I am watching 10 or so purple snub noses, though, and with today’s warmth am planning asparagus risotto for dinner tomorrow night.
Things happen so quickly at this time of year. I checked the bleeding hearts over the weekend, and they were small lacy clumps of greenery. Today, flower spikes are high up above the foliage, and we’ll have flowers soon.
And, alas, the pilewort is back as well. I never wait for that, I am never surprised by it, and I can say very little good of it, aside from the fact that it is, at least, predictable.