Given that March felt like May and April felt a little like July, it’s been really hard not to move everything outside and start planting annuals and tomatoes as if it’s safe. But then didn’t April end on a sort of February-ish note? That was just the warning we needed (I guess) to sit tight in limbo a little longer. According to the National Climatic Data Center, there’s only a 10% chance we’ll see a frost around here after May 6. So the good news is we won’t have to wait much longer.

I think I’m ready to move out just because that’s next on the list of to-dos. For the most part though, the plants don’t seem to be in a huge hurry. They actually look remarkably healthy and unstressed. Sometimes, if we’re really busy in the gardens in the spring, we come back into the greenhouse and are shocked to see that the plants have gone downhill. But this year because we were able to start working outside so much earlier, we have had ample time to pay attention to the greenhouse despite the lack of rainy days like this one to devote to inside work. Add to that the fact that the winter was so mild that the shading never etched off of the glass so the plants have not been subjected to those sunny spring days that can really set the greenhouse cooking. The plants are still just trucking along like they have all winter.

At home it’s a different story. Gail calls this time “the bewitching hour” because one minute our houseplants look fine and the next time we look at them, which could be weeks from that last time because we’re so consumed with our gardens, they’re infested, wilted, dead, or a combination of the three. They’ll be much happier outside with us. That said, tropical houseplants will have to wait even longer for nights to warm into the 50′s.

If it hadn’t rained today (we needed it – again!) we would have planted sweet peas. It already feels late to get them in the ground because we usually plant them the last week in April. Maybe tomorrow. After that we’ll watch the night temperatures and continue the methodical move out of the greenhouse. Marginally hardy plants like phormium and rosemary are out already and have been perfectly fine. But then we didn’t get the frost that some did.

Have you started moving houseplants out yet? Have you been able to resist planting tomatoes?

Which isn’t to say that anything is broken, in need of fixing. I just don’t ever remember magnolias blooming before the forsythia. Saucer magnolias are out all over town, our hedge of M. x loebneri ‘Leonard Messel’ by the parking lot started up last week and even our star magnolia along the front drive, which is notoriously late, is beginning to open from the top down. The cherry trees and tulips – early ones like ‘Analita’ – can’t seem to hold their horses either.

The weather is a little out of sequence too but we cynical optimists expected that. We’re short on rain – I’ve heard we’re about 5″ down from normal. And last weeks summer-ish temps were followed last night by a bitter chill. Luckily it was too windy for frost to settle so all is well but one flat of shocked pansies. And they’ll recover. As much as we’d like to worry about fruit trees being wiped out, the Providence Journal reported that the apples are fine too. Early peaches and plum buds might have taken a hit but the orchardist they interviewed didn’t seem too upset about it. He said he won’t have to do as much thinning later.

Even though all the books will say that transplanting and dividing is best done before the forsythia and daffodils come into peak bloom, you haven’t missed your chance by any means. Go to it and keep at it. Just make sure you give everything a good drink to help it settle in. If you have (prematurely) set out tender plants to harden off, bring them back inside or cover them with a sheet tonight because if the wind dies down overnight like it’s supposed to, they could get nipped. If you forget to cover them, spray them with the hose first thing in the morning.

If you want to catch the exact moment of daffodil peak here at Blithewold, this chilly weather is your friend. They’re really really close now and should hang tight through the weekend at least. The mansion opens for the season and Daffodil Days on April 1!

I can’t think of a better way to spend a record-breaking official first day of spring than playing musical plants out in the garden. At home I move plants around usually because I didn’t put them in the right place in the first place. (Left to my own devices, I’m an incurable plunker). But here we move plants to change things up every year – as well as to get them in the right place. Plants’ sweet spots always want finessing even if you’ve given it careful thought.

The trick to playing musical plants this early in the season is to have an excellent memory – or to have taken really good notes – or to have left labels.

I always forget how difficult it is to identify perennials at this stage, as they’re just starting to emerge, or if they’re still just a gnarl of knobby crown at the surface. And it’s like an eye-test to find them under the shredded leaf mulch before stepping on them.

It’s also really important to remember, when you can identify the tiny sprigs emerging from a fist-sized crown, exactly how big the plant is likely to get. We want an intensely planted garden but we also want to make sure plants have room to grow without being sat upon by something else. I’ll freely admit to being guilty of “mis-under-estimating” in order to fit more in. Sometimes combinations work anyway and sometimes we have to move things around again next spring. But if the garden was always the same we’d get bored. Wouldn’t you?

I’m pretty excited about some of the changes in the Display Garden. Today I went from being worried that holding onto our theme of planting for the pollinators would keep the Display Garden looking too much the same, to being sure that it will look fabulously new and different this year. And we probably only moved a dozen plants around in there so far. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make a garden exciting again. The same is true at home: as soon as I transplant one thing to the right spot I get jazzed about the whole season.

Do you get a move on in the spring too? Do you move plants so the garden will look different every year or to finesse perfection?

Speaking of getting a move on, the daffodils are. I’d hate for you to miss any of the show and it’s just beginning so here’s the first official daff-cam shot.

Even though the mansion won’t be open until April 1, the grounds are open daily (year-round.) Come see for yourself.

I know I’m going to start sounding like a broken record but I can’t help going on about how early everything is. I looked up the other day when I was walking my dog and noticed that the maple trees in town are blooming. A full month early according to my notes. Come on. Spring is breaking all over the place and the only thing we can do is try to keep up.

We asked garden volunteers to bundle up (it has been warm but wicked windy) to start working outside. This must be the earliest we’ve ever had to abandon the greenhouse work for later and we’re sort of smarting about that. But the Rose Garden and Moongate bed are tidied just in time for a steady trickle of early-bird visitors come to catch spring in its infancy. And although we might have gotten to the climbing roses as early as this before, they certainly weren’t breaking yet. At this rate we have to wonder if the roses’ June peak will fall in May instead.

If we had ever had a decent freeze, Fred and Dan wouldn’t have been able to break ground and be so far along with the North Garden redesign. We have temporarily relocated plants that are showing signs of taking off, so take it from us, if you will be doing any plant shifting this spring, you might as well get a jump on it and start now – particularly if you have shrubs or trees to move. Beat feet.

The weather is still going to do its usual diabolical March swing thing though. Unbelievably, given that yesterday was in the 60s, there’s a wee chance of snow in the forecast for tonight. So even though part of me is ready to throw out the calendar I have to remember that it’s March and slow down a minute. We’ll still follow our usual last-frost in mid-May planting schedule because you just never know with spring.

Are you making any adjustments to your spring schedule?

There has been a lot of speculation ever since Irene blew through that this wouldn’t be a good fall foliage year. Even in the days after the storm the horizon – particularly anything facing south and east – has looked markedly brownish. And then we had our unseasonably freakish snow storm (little more than a dusting here but still…) and it’s easy to just give up and think winter’s here. But we’ve had lots of  days of lovely fall weather interspersed among the ugly days (we’re enjoying a blissful spell right now) and there is plenty of fall color. Pockets of it. We just have to look a little closer.

Despite the freakishly unseasonable weather that might make us think it’s too late to plant bulbs, it absolutely isn’t. We were able to stay right on schedule – this sunny and warm post-nor’easter week is a bulb planter’s dream. We were able to wait until frost (erm… snow) to take out the last of our annuals and dahlias – amazingly some still haven’t been fully hit despite cold nights. But out they came to make way for bulbs. The Deadheads planted over 1000 tulips and alliums in the cutting garden and other display garden beds on Tuesday; Over 300 more in the North Garden that same day; and this morning the Rockettes planted 1800 little bulbs in the Rose Garden (Chionodoxa, Puschkinia, Fritillaria, Anemone…) Tomorrow the Florabundas will finish up planting something like 400 more tulips and alliums in the Rose Garden. No matter how weird the weather is this coming spring we can look forward to (amazing) pockets of color then too.

This marks the last official work-week in the gardens for the garden volunteers (they still have the big Christmas tree to decorate) and our intern Tara who saw us through a full growing season. Gail and I will really miss everyone’s smiles, good-natured growls (Toni), hard work, stories, dedication and easy company. Come by for tea any time!

Are you finding – or planting – pockets of color too?