It’s early January and we have yet to have any significant winter. There has been no frost. Night-time temperatures have barely reached 40F and then warms towards 70F during the daytime. The trees are confused. I saw a loquat tree downtown filled to bursting with buttery yellow fruits. My own pear trees have put out blossoms. My pecan trees dropped all their leaves and sit as if we are int he dead of a freezing cold winter. The lawn – which should fall dormant and not need cutting – is is dire need of a hacking. And yet, with such mild weather, I am loathe to go outside and work in the yard. There is plenty of stuff I COULD be doing.

Instead, I painted my office. It feels very serene and tranquil. It has made me happy. Delighted even.

I am hoping tonight is the last night of cold. We’ll have frost in the morning. I hope it’s the end of the frost. I’ve checked my pecan trees every afternoon, looking for the first leaves to shoot. Pecans are wise and knowledgeable. They do not set leaves until the winter frosts have ended. While I have the brilliant shock of fuchsia on my redbuds and the pears have leaves and blossoms, the pecans stubbornly stand bare and leafless. It feels like the other five are standing vigil over the 6th because they know their comrade ain’t coming back this spring. He made a single strain at a life once transplanted, but lost all his leave to webworms and then died. I think. Like I said, I won’t know until the trees set leaves.

Luckily, I’ll pick my last two heads of cabbage for St. Patrick’s day and then the gardens will be bare with the exceptions of the leeks and sweet onions. There is always a silver lining to gardening. You cna always plant more seeds. If something fails, it gets composted and replaced. Crops rotate, seasons change and I get to try new stuff.

Please let tomorrow be the last of the frost.

I spent several hours of combined time sitting in my car with the engine running this week, listening to the radio, playing solitaire on my smart phone and waiting for the deluge of rain to stop or at least slow down long enough for me to wade into the building, house of store. We are soaked. There have been flash flood warnings all week but as of yet the rivers have not crested. It takes a while for the water to make its way out of the cypress and swamp to the basin. The floods will arrive over the weekend.

It’s been a long week, several long weeks. Eager day, I am eager to return home to Biddan Ridge. It feels like riding across and then raising a drawbridge. This is my castle, my refuge, my fortress. The yard has the damp, verdant heaviness and the lawn is uncut. The “pepper grass” has sprouted through the pine straw mulch in all the beds. I call it “pepper grass” because it smells like fresh cracked pepper when it’s pulled up. I hope to get a respite from the rain so I can plant the tray of monkey grass and the last 6 bales of straw. Tomorrow I have plans for some seedless Thomcord grapes but tonight I made homemade Kit Kat bars.

The seasons feel like they are shifting, if just a small fraction. It was 73F this morning and foggy. While it climbed into the mid 90’s by mid afternoon, there was a breeze. Fall is coming and I look forward to the fall yard and garden.

My fall seeds arrived from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange. I picked a few things I know we can add to the Thanksgiving table: pole and snap beans, carrots, and lettuces. I will pull down the last of the spring garden, even though there are still tomatoes growing. I need to make small soil amendments and prepare for planting. I paid $10 for University of Florida IFAS Extension Office to do a soil evaluation and I am really pleased. Like I said, I only need to make small amendments. What I really need to to do better at controlling pests and I think that may be more related to me planting too densely. After I pull up the basil tomorrow, I will saves seeds and make pesto and herb cubes.

My youngest and I drove to Thomasville Georgia today to take a class at Sweetgrass Dairy farms on how to make mozzarella cheese. I like learning new skills and making fresh mozzarella, ricotta and feta will be cool.  Southern Georgia is chock a block full of pecan orchards and cotton farms. Evan challenges me saying, “We could grow our own cotton and make our own clothes.” I am not that ambitious but I am super thankful that my 21st century child knows how his clothes are made and that they are GROWN, like his food….although he thought pineapples grew on trees. We’re still working on some of this stuff.