Potpourri

At long last it seems that spring is in sight here in the north Georgia mountains. After the coldest winter that locals can remember, we just had a four day stretch where the daytime temperatures climbed into the 60’s.

Unfortunately, winter is not over. The weathermen…er, weatherpersons…are saying that we can expect colder weather in the next few days. They are using a new term for precipitation that I’ve never heard before: wintery mix. I guess it means we will be getting rain or sleet or snow. That about covers all the bases, doesn’t it? Thanks for the precision forecasting.

There are some tell-tale signs that spring is not too far off. Local garden clubs and nurseries are offering gardening classes and seminars. Small leaf buds are starting to swell on some of the trees. According to the Master Gardener emails I receive, crocuses are poking their way through the soil and hellebore blooms have started to pop up. I cannot verify this since I would not recognize a crocus or hellbore if it got in bed with me.

Meredith and I have heard the sound of frogs croaking in the evenings. Local lore is that croaking frogs signal that spring is six weeks away. Between wooly caterpillars predicting a harsh winter and croaking frogs forecasting spring, I’m beginning to feel like I stepped into the Middle Ages. So much for science and technology. I think my next course will be alchemy.

For me, the biggest sign that spring is drawing near happened when I was in the Mineral Bluff Post Office ogling Ms. Mailbags, the Postmistress. This old boy drove up in a vintage pick-up and asked if his package had arrived. When it was handed over, he remarked, “Them’s my seeds.” If the old timers are ordering seeds, planting season can’t be too far off.

Meanwhile, my Master Gardener classes continue. There were 43 students at the first class. The next week the number had dropped to 30. I assume they were frightened off by the amount of information that we have to learn.

I don’t know whether I’m impressing or irritating the teaching staff. I keep finding inconsistencies and contradictions in the course materials and firing off email questions to the instructors. For instance, we were shown a slide that said that when amending soil with organic matter, the goal is 25 percent organic matter by volume. It said that in order to accomplish this, you need to add 3 inches of amendments to 12 inches of soil. If you do the math, adding 3 inches of amendments to 12 inches of soil yields 20 percent organic matter by volume. I sent an email to the instructor pointing this out. The email response I received started with: “You are over-analyzing.” To quote Steve Martin, “Well, excuse me.”

We just received a presentation on insect pests of vegetables and ornamentals. To be honest, it was a little frightening. Some of those insects are scary, and I didn’t know there were so many of them. I’m going to be on the lookout for the Mexican Bean Beetle from now on, that’s for sure.

There is a European Corn Borer and a Lesser Cornstalk Borer. The instructor didn’t cover the Greater Cornstalk Borer. I guess that’s because it’s so frightening it will give you nightmares.

There are Cabbage Maggots, Cabbage Loopers, and Imported Cabbageworms. Why would we import a Cabbageworm? Aren’t good old American Cabbageworms good enough? I bet the Imported Cabbageworm is French.

Just the names of the bugs are scary. There are Blister Beetles, Tomato Hornworms, Fall Armyworms, Robber Flies, Spined Soldier Bugs, Minute Pirate Bugs, Assassin Bugs, and Two Lined Spittle Bugs. It’s an insect Armageddon out there. Once I get my garden going, I’m carrying a can of Raid and a 12 gauge before I step foot in it.

I can already tell that my focus as a Master Gardener will be a little different than the rest of the local Fannin County chapter. They are in to flowers and ornamentals. I’m more interested in vegetables and trees. They were astonished when I told them that I can only identify five or six flowers at most. Ulysses S. Grant once said that he could recognize two songs. One was Dixie and the other one wasn’t. I’m like that with flowers.

If the Master Gardeners start to get on me for my lack of interest in things that flower, I think I’ll go Euell Gibbons on them. When they show me a flower, I’ll rip it off the plant, stuff it in my mouth, and say, “Did you know it was edible too?” I suspect that after I eat a few of their prize blooms, they’ll leave me alone.

Switching gears, I’ve been trying to complete the stone wall in front of the cabin. Whenever I get a spare moment, I go out into the fields and woods to hunt rocks. It is a strangely rewarding activity.

One benefit of hunting rocks is that I’ve come to know my property intimately. Lately I’ve encountered a variety of scat in the fields. As you might expect, I’ve run across a lot of deer poop. Thanks to Meredith, I can recognize deer poop and tell if it’s male or female. There’s absolutely nothing I can do with that information, but at least I know whether a buck or a doe has been crapping in my fields.

I’ve also found scat that I cannot identify, even with the help of an old Boy Scout Manual. One pile looked like a bunch of frog eggs or tapioca. I have no clue what animal left that little donation.

The strangest, however, was the scat that looked like small chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing swirls on top. Could it be that I have a herd of wild French pastry chefs pooping in my fields? Maybe it’s a Bigfoot with culinary aspirations. In the future I’ll remember to photograph interesting or unusual scat and post the pictures on this blog so you can share the experience. It could be a feature of the blog. I could call it “Name that Turd” or “Poop of the Post.” I bet you can’t wait for that.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ve got to get back to studying my Master Gardner materials. There’s a mid-term exam in two weeks, and I want to be prepared for it.