Nature has her own ways of doing things and her own timing. There’s no predicting it. — It hadn’t occurred to us last August when we ordered bulbs that squirrels would be acorn deprived and tulip-hungry this year. We had no idea after so many years mouse-free in the greenhouse that they’d be back. And we had no way of knowing when setting the date for Daffodil Days last year that they might bloom extra-early this year. Nature keeps us on our toes and all we can do is go with the flow and enjoy the ride.

There’s no fighting the likelihood of an early spring (despite another dusting of snow) so we’re going with it and rescheduling our celebrations to (hopefully) more closely match Nature’s timing. We will hustle to be open for the season and Daffodil Days starting April 1.

As for this being the year of the rodent here at Blithewold, all we can do is roll with the punches and get smarter. We’ve ordered extra spring bloomers to fill in any tulip-shaped gaps. (The squirrels didn’t eat them all so we’ll be sure to spray or dust the survivors with deer repellent.) And we’re doing our darnedest to keep the mice out of the seeds by covering the seedling trays with weighted upside-down trays. Fingers crossed. And I’m sorry to say it but because we can’t grow the gardens we’re known for without these plants, we have also brought out the big guns: poison bait. No dogs allowed in the greenhouse until further notice. (And after that, by invitation only, as per usual.)

When change is good it’s easy to adapt to it. Assistant grounds manager, Dan Christina has joined Dick in managing the vegetable garden. He has drawn a beautiful plan, dug trenches for the asparagus that Dick has been asking for forever, started working on a brilliant array of staking methods and support structures, and will help keep us all to a schedule of extra-productive succession planting and harvests. We’re pretty excited.

Any changes, welcome or not, in your garden? Will you have to hustle to be ready for an early spring too?

I really don’t know what to make of this season. The last few days have been in the bird-song-balmy 50′s but we woke this morning to fat flakes. They have already turned to freezing rain and I would say we have finally turned the corner from a spring-like winter to a winter-like spring. It’s been really tempting to jump the gun on spring – Gail and I haven’t been able to stay out of the garden tidying up. And we’re not the only ones: the autumn blooming cherry (Prunus subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’) has a hair-trigger for spring too. Poor thing is blooming away, again, in the snow. Might not look like much in actual spring this year and it will be interesting to see if any tiny cherries develop. (The bees might have been on it in the last few days anyway.)

I know it’s springter and the official start of the garden-calendar year because we sowed the sweet peas this week, right on a President’s day schedule. (Washington’s birthday to be exact.) We haven’t gotten all of our seeds in yet so we started the ones I ordered from Unwins and a few I was offered for free from Renee’s Garden (I’m on a free-trial list through my Garden Writers Assoc. membership.) Even if we had purchased them, which we have in the past, I would have to say that Renee has some of my favorite varieties (Blue Celeste, Watermelon, Cupani’s Original) and is very generous with her seeds. I like that. The more sweet peas the better especially since they seem to be tempting to our newest greenhouse tenant. It’s been a while since we’ve had mice and I’m not sure what I’ll do if they work their way through a top and bottom barrier of appropriated row-cover cloth.

We started the sweet peas in cowpots, and rather than nick or soak the seeds (I inevitably ruin seeds and destroy my fingers by trying to snip or file the seedcoat off) we simply sow them about a 1/4″ down, put them in our coolest greenhouse, and wait. Our mouse unearthed evidence that they are already beginning to swell out of their coat. In another week or two, any that remain uneaten should begin to emerge.

Are you sowing sweet peas this year? What marks the start of your garden-calendar year?

One of our most frequently asked questions is if we have a problem with deer. I can very clearly remember being able to say cheerfully, “No – we don’t!” Even though when I said it I always crossed my fingers and knocked wood, and always had compassion for other gardeners’ woes and tried not to gloat, over the last probably 5 or so years, I’m now sorry to say that the deer have finally clued in that this is prime real estate. They have nosed around our tulips eating a few buds here and there, tromped through garden beds as if they were pathways, munched hosta like salad greens and sampled a few shrubs and vines, but nothing (yet – knock wood) has been completely demolished. I know we’re very lucky.

That said, this fall a buck moved in. He has marked his territory like a cat does, though much more destructively, by rubbing his antlered scent glands on a few young trees. And of course this doesn’t do the trees any good at all. He has scraped clear through the bark to the tender cambium, wrecking the tree’s ability to transport water from the roots to its leaves. If he had rubbed around the circumference, the trees would surely die. As it is they may not be able to fully recover and thrive and some are young enough that even a little damage is too much, sadly.

I caught the blurry Sasquatch-like shot of our fellow leaving the property around mid-day. That’s an unusual time for a sighting but I think he may have been flushed from his bed by the machinery (if not the machinations) of Fred and Dan blowing leaves near the summerhouse. I know they are worried about Blithewold’s trees and would be glad to see the backside of our buck, gone for good.

Do you have a problem with deer in your garden too?