Greetings and salutations everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to bring you the latest and most fascinating news from our garden. You may remember me from such other fascinating posts as “Inching Toward Spring”, among so many, many others.
Here I am in a characteristic, albeit slightly serious, pose.
Today it was about seventy (70) degrees F (21.1C), sunny, breezy, and dry (eight percent humidity). It was pretty excellent.
Sometimes when the weather is this nice in winter, people here don’t know what to do. This is what you do.
I also got my dinner al fresco this evening, and that was pretty good. I’ve decided that steak was way too much trouble to chew, so the guy I live with got me some stew in a can. What a hunter, huh. It’s salmon stew, really good, and I can pretend I’m stealing cat food while I’m eating it. My grandpa Flurry said that stealing the cat’s food was what he did when he was little. He sometimes got a lecture when he showed up with cat food breath, but not much of anything else happened.
And since it was so nice today, the guy I live with got all these twinges of spring and started moving plants around, which is mostly what he does in the garden.
He took some pictures, too. Here are the emerging multicolored leaves of Allium platycaule, from California. 
Oh, and snowdrops, too. If you look closely you can see that some are different from others, with the little green marks on them. Some are more marked than others. 
Here’s one not quite open, above a hellebore showing some color. 
That’s really it for today. Not much, just more snowdrop pictures.
I have some things to do now, so I’ll let you go.
Until next time, then.
the miserable gardener 
Them snowdrops is pretty excellent!
Thanks, they are pretty excellent indeed. Even if it snows later, we have them today.
So Zen and mindful, Chess, “we have them today.” So many treasures, among them snowdrops. “We have them today.” Now go after your salmon stew with peas and carrots.
I did, thank you. Ate half a can for breakfast. Very windy today, which purebred border collies like a lot.
You have it right Chess. I had a T-shirt, many hundreds of years ago, that said “Dogs were born to lie in the sun”. I just loved that T and I wore it to its demise, never found one since. You’ve trained your guy well, salmon stew al fresco, what a life, He loves you so much doesn’t he? Hope it doesn’t get too cold again. Talk about great weather for you and the plants, we’ve had two good days in a row also, life’s good.
Yes, I think lying in the sun is excellent, though I like to lie out on the patio rug on nice evenings, too. To guard things, you understand. It can still get cold here. Very, very cold, in fact. There isn’t any question whether we would rather have snowdrops now or snowdrops in April, with nothing but snow before that. The salmon stew is pretty good. It’s sort of like fancy cat food with peas and carrots in it.
Oh, heavens, Chess, I realize with your top portrait you bear marked resemblance to Walter Cronkite. Ask the guy you live with to explain to you who that gentleman was. No wonder I trust you so on reportage. You seem pretty much lost in thought in your ending portrait, and I don’t believe I ever saw Mr. Cronkite lost in thought. Is your guy actively – in the midst of opening cans of salmon stew – adding to his snowdrop collection? It’s been difficult to tell from the narrative of want/can’t. And do keep us up on progress of that California allium. I’m in California and I like alliums, but given my track record I’m leary. On the other hand, my neglected hellebore returns each year and makes a great, long lasting cut flower. Perhaps it’s time to take down my pine cone/rose hips/twigs winter arrangements and move on. Must be, if snowdrops are showing.
Such excellent activities in which you indulge, dear Chess. So cozy and cheering to read about.
Walter Cronkite, eh? The snowdrop collection is being added to, but there is the trifling matter of wherewithal, since the named varieties are sold by the bulb, and are not what you would call cheap. There’s also the issue of space, and the fact that, here, they like to be watered in the summer time. The allium has been here for many years and isn’t one of those ones that seeds everywhere and makes you mad. There’s another one in the garden but it’s coming up more slowly. Sometimes the leaves get damaged by the cold that inevitably follows a warm spell. We’re also growing Allium cratericola. http://www.pacificbulbsociety.org/pbswiki/index.php/AmericanAlliumsTwo (In fact, we grow a bit of stuff from California that “isn’t supposed to grow here”.)
Not a drop of Spring to be had here on the Isle of Long, no beams of sunlight available for nappage, and nary a salmon stew in sight. So thank you, dear Chess, for bringing on Spring through the inter webs with a meadow of snowdrops and sweet dreams of pure bred border collie.
That sounds so pathetically sad. The guy I live with has been to Long Island, once, and had bagels there. Here, winter isn’t over ‘til it’s over. And then it comes back after that. Again and again.