My favorite part of spring

The daffodils are in full bloom! It's my favorite time of spring. I've spent years planting daffodil bulbs all through the woods and all over the manor, and it's beginning to pay off. Down in the lower forty, there are blooms scattered about, enough that I can see the areas I need to plant this year. 

Planting daffs in the woods may seem silly. Flowers need sunlight to thrive! In early spring, the trees still need to put out leaves. The daffs get plenty of sunshine. 

I'm getting older and smarter, too. Yesterday, I was giving the lane its spring tidying with the John Deere 1023 tractor, so I took a moment to drag the backhoe bucket through the trees to make a little trench. When I separate the largest daffodil clumps, I'll have a place to drop the bulbs and dirt to cover them. My knees will be grateful. Shoveling can be hard on them. 

There are more annual chores to be accomplished. The mobile lawnmower repair man is due to arrive today to change the oil, put in a new spark plug, sharpen the blades, and if necessary, put in a new air filter. I paid a good price for the John Deere x370 mower and I like to keep it serviced. 

I hope the daffodils are still blooming at the end of this week when the Lord of the Manor will return home from his stint in a care facility. It's anyone's guess if he'll get to see them next spring. 

In the bulb there is a flower

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;

in cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!

In the cold and snow of winter there's a spring that waits to be, 

unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

There's a song in ev’ry silence, seeking word and melody.

There's a dawn in ev’ry darkness, bringing hope to you and me.

From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,

unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;

in our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity.

In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,

unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, John Deere 1023, John Deere x370, daffodils, care facility, In the bulb, country lifestyle, rural living, end of life

March crocus and March winds

My mother's garden was full of little "snow" crocus. I'm not sure how she accomplished it! I've tried to get the smaller varieties established on the manor but to no avail. This property seems to support the larger varieties, and that's really okay. 

Years ago I planted a row along the eastern side of the patio and finally - finally! - this year they really put on a bit of a show. I wish the Lord of the Manor was here to enjoy it with me. 

It seems strange that I've spent over forty years planting bulbs all over the place and I still don't seem to have enough crocus, daffodil, tulips, snow glories, and bluebells. I've reconciled myself that I never will have my woods full of daffodils, or if I do, I'll be dead before I see it again the next spring. Such is life. 

Today was the classic March day - rain, wind, sunshine, snow squalls, fluffy white clouds, blue sky, and then do it all over again. I hated to go outside in the wind, but the Lord of the Manor is in rehab for physical therapy and I'd promised him coffee from home. Now that I've returned home, I think a cup of tea in front of the wood stove may be in order.  

March always brings a mixed bag of weather that can be frustrating to those living in rural areas. I, and many others, are eager to be outside preparing for a garden and tidying the yard. A cold, wet, and windy March doesn't lend itself to such activities. 

Some days my outside activities are no more than walking around the property and observing what is blooming. And some days, that's enough.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, March, crocus, daffodils, bulbs, country lifestyle, rural living, gardening, yard work, tea, coffee, weather

The first daffodils of 2024

I've been searching for a ray of hope and sunshine this past week. With the Lord of the Manor in the hospital once again, I've been struggling to hold "it" together. Running back and forth to see him, giving Deuce the necessary attention, taking care of household matters, and lastly, taking care of me is exhausting. I confess to increasing moments of despair. 

In the midst of it all, I looked out the window this morning. I mean I really looked out at the yard and the woods for more than to check the weather. I saw the early yellow daffodils blooming. And I cried. 

My grandmother consistently called daffodils Easter flowers. It used to annoy me, but I'd give a lot to be able to hear her say those words again. 

The hidden bulbs that push forth the sunny yellow flowers remind me that good things lie beneath it all and are working toward goals I can't fathom. 

Sometimes, I need to give those forces time to unfold the blessings coming my way.

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, daffodils, Easter, blessings, rural living, gardens, country lifestyle, grandmother, hidden agenda

Hard work helps

 

The past two weeks have not been anything to brag about. The Lord of the Manor's illness has tested us yet again, and this time we've failed. It's easy to blame one or the other, but we've both allowed anxiety to overcome us. It has not been pretty. However...

The Lord of the Manor's situation is improving, and I've taken the opportunity to escape the house. Granted, I'm only doing things I'd be doing anyway, but it's away from his demands. Today went well. Yesterday, not so much.

We're in the middle of what the old-timers call the January thaw. Yes, it started in January so the term applies. Yesterday and today, the weather was perfect for this time of year and I took full advantage of it. 

• Pick up sticks and limbs blown down
• Burn the sticks; brush
• Bring over firewood
• Spread mulch from tree-trimmers on tractor path
• Restack parts of the woodpile needing it (sort out the too-long pieces and throw on brush pile)
• Spread clean crush gravel
• Prepare and set Brush Crusher 4200 on the new pallet

City dwellers may think that a short list, but anyone living out in the country knows just how much time is involved. And I did all that while running in and out of the house to check on the ailing partner, doing a load of laundry, and preparing two meals and an evening snack each day.

I may be woman, and I may roar, but bedtime is nine o'clock. 

I'm very pleased to have this "pre-spring" clean-up almost finished. I've got one spot to get the fallen sticks and limbs from as soon as the ground dries up enough to get the tractor in there. 

What did I do before I got the John Deere 1023? I worked harder! The tractor is a game changer. 

I wish I could say I feel at least a smidgeon of guilt about running out on an ailing spouse, but I don't. The outside work is therapy for me. I'm physically tired, but I feel so much better. Today there were no harsh words spoken on either side. This is a good thing. 

Tomorrow will bring another test. I need to go to the landfill, and I must stop at UPS to send an item back to Amazon. How will he react to being left alone? Will he be patient and stay in his recliner and enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee? Or will he pull another stunt and end up lying on the floor until I get home and pick him up? 

It's a coin toss, but I will leave and run my errands in the morning. And when I return home, hopefully, I'll be able to get into the lower section of the woods for the deadwood. 

Spring is coming, though. Working in the woods, I've spotted daffodil sprouts everywhere! It gives me hope that this time of trial will pass and I'll come out the other side even stronger. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor/The Hideaway

Holy Tree Manor, The Hideaway, John Deere 1023, Brush Crusher 4200, rural living, country lifestyle, daffodils, caregivers, firewood

Press the pause button, albeit unwillingly

Happy May Day! The Celts called this day Beltane and it was, I believe, their most important day of the year. It might be a pagan holiday, but these days, we need to remember that regardless of the different places we come from and the different things we believe that we're on the journey together. 

So. That wasn't on topic for today. Today I'm commiserating about the weather. It's the first of May and it's cold and damp outside. I had to press the pause button on all my outside activities, which didn't please me or Deuce. He's one bored pup at the moment. No long walks or car rides. No playing in the cold creeks. No squirrels running about the backyard. No work in the garden beyond a visual check which resulted in dispatching one green worm today. eewwww.  

Is our rainy, cloudy weather the result of the eruption of Shiveluch, a Russian volcano, on April 11? I haven't heard The Weather Channel mention it. Is it just our normal May weather? May and June are my area's historically wettest months with rainfall. It may be wet, but the temperatures are holding up, staying in the fifty+ Fahrenheit range, so my tomatoes and begonias are fine. 

Around three o'clock this afternoon, a bit of sunshine broke through, and Deuce and I went out for a brief stroll around the yard. It's a mixed bag out there. The daffodils are over, the one really early daylily is trying to bloom, the purple lilac has a couple of blooms, and the old-fashioned brown/yellow iris from my great-grandmother's garden has popped up a few buds. Along the front deck runway, the peonies are showing some promise, too. 

This brief pause won't last long. The clouds, be they regular or volcanic, will soon blow away. The sunshine will return in full force and the outside work will resume. Whether we like it or not, that's the way of weather. We simply need to be patient. 

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, peonies, gardening, weather, rural living, country lifestyle, Labrador Retrievers, a writer's life, iris, daffodils

March 2022 Daffodil check

 I love daffodils. Plant them and you're finished! They return every spring bringing bright bursts of yellow all around the yard. 

I did a walk around the yard to look at them and make a short video of what's blooming. 

Tête-à-tête

  

For the past several years I've been gifted with a mini-garden planter for Easter. The violas last until the weather gets hot, but the small miniature daffodils are perennial keepers and I've planted them in various locations. 

Last spring, I needed to separate some of the clumps of daffodils that have been growing on the manor for many years. This past weekend, I walked through the woods looking for green sprouts and was pleased to see more than a few breaking ground. I don't expect many to bloom this year, but future springs should be yellow! 

I was surprised to see the tête-à-têtes blooming already. This little clump is really out-doing itself. I hope there are others I haven't spotted yet.

It gave me a feeling of hope following the long, cold winter just past. And it was a hard winter in many regards. My grandmother often said the colder the winter, the better the bulbs bloom. 

Time has proven her correct about many things. Here's hoping! 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Walking season 2021

It seems like I've been waiting forever for the weather to turn spring-like, and today it happened. It seems appropriate as today is Easter 2021. It was 55F by about 9:30 AM so I loaded Deuce's carry bag with treats, my phone, the new video camera, and his leash, and off we went. Our destination was the pond loop. 

It's been several months since we last made that particular trek, December 13, 2020, to be precise. Unlike the last time, the creeks were running full and fast, and while I had to search for dryer crossings, Deuce was in Labrador Retriever heaven. Lots and lots of water in the creek hits his hot buttons and he jumps right in. His joy is my joy and it's wonderful to watch. Stare into Deuce's eyes and you know someone special is in there. 

Walking season 2021 will, I hope, see my journey to better health continued. Walking invigorates me, ergo, I tend to accomplish more of the things I like to do - like walking. It feeds my soul to get out in the woods away from the noise of the television, cars, and renter neighbors I wish would find another place to live. Easter Sunday is hardly a good day to terrorize the tax-paying homeowners with dirt bikes and ATVs. My family lives up here in solitude for a reason and it's called peace and quiet. But I digress...

Walking is good for me and for Deuce. The vet said he needs to lose two pounds and I'd like to lose at least ten this summer. So, off we will go. Shorter walks on workdays and longer walks on the weekends, weather permitting. The pond loop is almost three miles, and according to my Fitbit, has a lot of stairs. 

We have a new inexpensive video camera and I took it along on its maiden journey. The footage isn't very good but I learned a few things which was the point of the exercise. I'll be able to pull some still shots out and that will have to suffice. If I upload it to YouTube, it will be just to show the man of the manor, and I'll take it down after he's viewed it. It's that jumpy and jerky. Lesson one - turn on the control that helps stop the shaking. 

There were some things I didn't appreciate finding on my walk. The old trails have existed for over a hundred years and many have been commandeered by the Park Service for hiking trails. In and of itself this is not a problem, but people have no respect. The clean, unlittered trails of my girlhood are no longer unlittered. An empty Monster Energy can, a facemask, a plastic Mountian Dew bottle - you can't blame those on homesteaders forced by the State of Maryland to abandon their homes. 

This time of year it's easy to spot the old homesteads. The daffodils are blooming and it seems every old place had them. They live on, untended, and beautifully wild. They inspired me to separate a few clumps of my own daffs and replant the bulbs one-by-one in my own woods in the hope that in future years, they will remain, bright yellow and white on an Easter morning. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

Cat and dog, dog and cat

A lot of my memories are tied to what dog I had at a particular time. There was Rebel, the dog of my childhood. Reba graced my teen years. Then there's a bit of a gap when I married for the first time and was absorbed in growing up. Then came the Callahan years - my companion after that first marriage ended and I lived without a human companion for many years. After Callahan, there's another short gap while I grieved the loss of a true and faithful friend. Life doesn't give you many of those, so treasure them. Then came the Jett years, and now we live in the time of Deuce. 

Ah, Deuce. Is it because he's with me now or because he IS so very special. He's far and away the most intelligent dog I've ever known. The philosophical may have to wait. 

Spring is finally here on the manor. It was above sixty degrees Fahrenheit when I arose at six o'clock this morning and that's a very good sign. I'll have to go outside after dark this evening and listen for the peeper frogs - the real harbingers of spring. 

Regardless of the season, mornings with Deuce don't vary. I get up and let him out and back in, then shower and dress. Once dressed, he and I head out for a short morning stroll during which he completes his outside activities for the morning. Being a warm morning, Loki accompanied us today. 

Loki is a fine little feline who believes he's a lion or at least a big cat. He's not. At only ten pounds, he's the smallest cat I've ever owned. But he is the most ferocious. 

We stopped long enough for me to snap a couple of pictures of the daffodils and snowglories, and Deuce and Loki put on a little show for me. I would have filmed it had I know they were about to perform, but they gave me no warning. Who knew Loki would leap from his perch and the dog would run? For about ten paces, and then the game got switched and Loki ended up in a maple tree. It may not amuse a city dweller, but my boys having fun gave me a good laugh to start the day. 

Thank you, dog and cat. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

I don't often see this - stunted daffodils

The first daffodils of 2021 are up and in bud. They're a bit stunted from coming up under snow, but still a welcome spring sight. 

I confess I've never before seen such short little beauties. The only explanation for it is the snow cover we had for such a long time, which is not usual in our micro-climate. I'm eager to see if they shoot up in height before they open or if they'll open as they are.

There are other daffodils up, but none had buds on yet. Did the snow insulate these? Is it just a nice warm and sunny spot? Mother Nature loves to do things like this and I'm happy to have spotted them and to enjoy yet another simple country pleasure. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

The ferns in fall

Walking through the woods is a constant joy for me. Even though I stick to the same trails, as a general rule, there is always something new to see mixed in with the familiar. This year, there has been a big stand of ferns growing on a bank. I've marveled at how green they were all summer.

Fall has arrived, and the ferns have turned a pale yellowish-brown. It's the way of the season. Will they return next year? In all likelihood. This type of fern grows wild everywhere around here, even on the manor. Part of their growth success is that the deer don't seem to like them. 

I wish the deer would eat the ones growing along the upper stone fence. I've tried and tried to eradicate the ferns in that area, but so far they've bested me. 

I won't give up. I've got a tip on a woven ground cover that might do the trick. Do I feel remorse at the thought of killing off some ferns? No, I do not. There are plenty more to be found on the manor. I simply want what was a flower bed to be returned to its original function. I want to see the daffodils in the spring. I want the foxgloves and columbines to grow back. 

As I ease into being home on the manor full-time, this is just one of the many things I want to accomplish. And I'll still enjoy seeing the ferns along the woodland trails. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor

A late entry on spring flowers

I don't know anyone who doesn't like daffodils. My grandparents loved them and had as many varieties as they could get their hands on. Most of my bulbs originated in their garden. 

Every year I watch for the first green tips to break ground. It usually happens in the sheltered spot in front of the eastern-most terrace or on the bank with full southern exposure.

The bank runs along the old driveway or the original driveway to my house. Back in 1981, my mother and I planted starts from her garden on the bank. It was intended as sort of a holding spot until I was fully moved and had flower beds prepared. But miss digging one daffodil bulb and you get more and more daffs. Not a problem. The bank is covered with daffs, daylilies, hosta, ajuga, snow glories, wood hyacinths, tiger lilies, and bluebells. 

Why they still grow there is a mystery to me. The soil is mostly clay and I've never worked in any enhancements. But every spring I eagerly watch and remember the time spent with my mom, playing in the dirt. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor