First and foremost my utmost apologies for not writing these last weeks.
Every time I have sat down at the keyboard, my eyes cross, and I crawl off
to bed, only to drag myself outa the warmth of my waterbed to abuse myself
at work.

Update and no pity, but I fear I am much too old to be pounding my feet on
concrete 8-9 hours at a time. I hobble around horribly when I finally sit
and take lunch, it's downright pathetic.

Now, on to more important things..............

Spring has literally EXPLODED up here on the ridge and the surrounding
regions. The last two weeks has blown me away. The first indication that
the fairies were pulling all nighters was that the dogwoods were unfurling
their petals in the surrounding woods.

The sun helped tremendously with this, but as each day melted into the next
one, as whipped and tired as I was coming home, I would force myself to walk
at least to the next to last level of our slope on the west side to look at
all the emerging signs. It was scary. I felt like I was watching some
rerun of old Sunday night Wonderful world of Disney's films with the time
lapse photography.

One day I walked around the whole thing, looking at every sign and actually
felt like I was in a surreal time capsule. The Virginia bluebells in the
whiskey barrel under the black cherry tree were done. Already. But the
seeded plants outside the lips of the barrel were slowly emerging from the
cool, damp humus. And along the edges, from up underneath the heavy blanket
of black cherry leaves I'd swept from the driveway and piled into the narrow
bed, shoots of emerging Varigated soloman's seal that I'd moved after Squire
plowed into them on the southern side with his van last year. (remember that
one?) None the worse for wear and rubber, they were pushing the heavy, damp
uncomposted leaves aside like bouncers with party crashers.

Everywhere my eyes were so full and I was so amazed I couldn't keep track of
it day to day. Daffodils were blooming, holding and melting like the scenes
in H.G. Wells, Time Machine. The Sir Winston's were holding up despite the
snowfall we had a couple of Sunday's ago, there were other emerging ones
that awed me and made me humble and that brought out the kneeling
madgardener once again. I kept hobbling over to another face, and bending
down, dropping to a knee and lifting up a face to gaze at it in pure
appreciation. I even cut a couple of impromptude boquets a couple of times
and took them to work and shared them with the ladies at the front desk.

One day (they had started to blend into each other, only seperated by days
off when I healed and slept like some deprived thing) I went outside and
noticed that when did this happen???? The IRISES are UP?? And not only are
they up, but they have BUDS??????

That inspired me to go around the whole property that I've planted so far
and sure enough, almost every clump of iris in every bed had the makings of
stalks and flat buds. And the Amsonia has awaken and is pushing it's
blue-green spikes thru the soil in the fig bed so much that I stopped where
I was at and walked to the end of the tomato bed to see if the tired and
abandoned roots of what was left of the large clump of Amsonia had survived
winter, and sure enough..........there were weak, but visible shoots poking
out of the rich worm soil.

Be warned, there is now the beginnings of new beds in the old tomato boxes.
The richness and depth of soil was too much afterall and I have so far
planted daylilies on the southern side of the east box, and on the northern
side of the western box I have alternated Iberis with a little dianthus that
has the most beautiful face on each flower. the fairies more than approve.
I think these plants appeal to the punk fairy, though, as the spikes of
flowers resemble some chaotic punk hair-do.

Everywhere it's as if every bag, box and trunk of every fairy residing here
has been shaken out and scattered about. The woods are lit up with the
ever whitening petals of the thousands of dogwoods, and this year was a
spectacular year for the deliberately planted pink ones in all the yards of
every house and edge of woods from here into Knoxville and Morristown. The
richness and maturity and deepness of the pinks, a few red's, the older
trees making me catch my breath as I drive past them, of the shapes of them
in the woods as I drive to and from work. It's enough to make me paranoid
I'll run into an embankment or drop off into a ditch (there are no shoulders
on these country roads).

The wild turkeys have added to the merriment and festivities up here on the
ridge and surrounding areas, as every day as I pull out to leave for work,
despite the time of day or what, there is at least 8 of them knosching on
Miz Mary's bird food she's scattered on the great old rocks around the
house, driveway and pastures despite that it's now turkey season. Sometimes
I catch an old Tom doing his puffy dance and I can never catch them with my
digital camera. The only images I get are the distant ones when they flee to
the safety of the pastures and woods.

The air is filled with the smells of moist, rich soils, the sounds of chaos
in the birds chattering about nests and eggs and future fledglings. And
there's been so much recent rains again that a fresh batch of horny peepers
are filling the air with their thrumming chirps.

Every over flowing cow pond has at least one couple trying to reside in
their muddy waters. Ducks. Some have one couple, others, the larger ones
have two or three couples. And I see great gray cranes in some of them.

Flowers that I feel shouldn't be showing up yet, like the Kerria japonica.
Mine is the single petaled one and it's lit the underside of the wisteria
trellis like yellow warning lights. And it's a walker. I see shoots of it
walking thru the end of the bed, one has popped out of the flowerbed and is
waving at me beside the corrougated drain pipe that leads into the concrete
from the end downspout. There is a residue of soil from the sweepings and
water washed rains and apparently the roots of this bush are frisky. I
think I will leave it and see if it has the nerve to take up residence in
the crack................

Here's who is blooming and showing off at the moment............East to
west, don't get too overwhelmed, although I am! The Hellebore are making
seed and turning green, hosta's are pushing up, varigated Solomon's seal,
Burgennia is back, and the tiny piece of Leopards bane, and looks like noses
of Toad lilies, the columbines are all flinging lanky stems with horned
skirts about to be shaken out. Colors will be revealed later.

Jack on the grapevine has so many new shoots that I daily have to toss them
upwards to catch onto the grapevine to ensure it wraps all over it, and
underneath the anemone are intent on taking over the remaining sliver of
yard between the beds that make up the NSSG. The new St. John's wort bush
died back to the ground, but the emerging shoots have assured me they will
be just as neat. And the flora pleno kerria japonica I lost at the corner
of the NSSG has tiny shoots emerging, so there will be quite the battle for
space between it and the varigated red twig dogwoods that are leafed out.

Daylilies I thought were in the wrong place are bulky and layered in fresh
green, and despite that I lost the Corydalis along the wall, the baby that
had come up under the small walk deck is not only back, but full and
blooming little yellow drawers that catch your eye when you look past the
back edge of the flower bed.

Shocking fleshy pink shoots of the knotweed are up amongst the beautiful and
perfect one Bear's Britches leaf of the plant that Zhan sent me that is
hanging in there. Maybe one day it will grow into an impressive beast..... I
see the Blue Egnima salvia is returning, and the clump of pulmonaria I moved
outa the woods is estatic with it's new home and is plumping up, after
having already bloomed............two weeks ago.......

The yellow twig dogwood I planted behind and under the Cornelia cherry tree
is about to bloom and the twigs are now green, the Sorbaria is eating the
southern lip of the upper NSSG, crowding the little Mexican jasmine bushes
and even the Harlequin glory bower, but thanks to a happy black cherry tree
last year, Iris will soon have her own little black cherry seedlings as
there are quite a few in the remaining portion of "yard" or walkway of the
NSSG.

The concrete planters are full to overflowing with the bulbs and wild white
daisies and sedums and other wild things I've plugged into them adn
forgotten about. Shoots of the white balloon flower I always forget about
until they shoot out of the pot's edges towards your face.........And last
year since I lost the whole bucket of peanut cactus, I plugged in a piece of
Strawberry Begonia or mother of thousands and it's happy and about to start
some serious growth.

In the cracks of the bricks are violets. Where they came from only the
violet fairies and garden friends who attempted to send me clumps of violets
knows where they came from. No sign of my beloved one clump of yellow violet
I dug carefully out of the woods of Shelby Park in Nashville one distraught
day after work at the school cafeteria that survived moving to East
Tennessee, residing in a pot for three and a half years, then 3 years under
a "dead maple tree flowerbed"........but I have blue ones!

Everywhere you can see my hand in the flower fights. I drag home with pots
of spring ephemerials........4 pots of Alyssum, all golden and happy, plug
one in a pot, plug another next to the brief Erysium, two more in spaces to
light up the areas. The variety is called Gold dust and it's more an
appropriate. I hope it likes it and stays.

The cracked pots and jars and containers of perennials and bulbs and what
not are full to overflowing. The pinks in my jar are a perfect full "V" and
not quite open, and the phlox in the big lipped herb jar is long past it's
bloom, now the hens and chicks that survived the winter are bulking up.
Broken sides of pots hold the children of Commander Hayes. Phlox is
threatening to bolt if I don't cut it back NOW.........the lilac has dropped
me to my knees with tears. The blossoms are enormous because last year in a
huff, I whacked 1/3rd of it back as it crowded my "Colorado box" and this
year in appreciation, the blossoms are gigantic and smell so good I can't
keep from weeping. Jim would be so happy to know he brought me such
pleasure from his 5 cuttings.

In another pot, I have planted three lilac's to later place in a special
spot when they attain some girth to them. Around their feet are candytuft
and when I plant the broken nursery pot some day, (this is the pot the tow
truck driver ran over and broke the top ring off) it will be an instant
garden of sorts.

I have to watch Squire as he's eyeing my many neat pots of perennials to
plant around the idea he's had lately of a small water garden in the broken
BBQ...........

Before ya'lls eyes fall outa yer head, I will stop there, but I promise to
crank back up in the morning and finish telling you who all has showed up
here. It's just overwhelming!! The fairies really love me this year. It's
a nice thing to feel after a grueling day on concrete attending to other mad
gardeners and new home owners and clueless people who want instant
gratifcations this year. I think it must be the year of the therapy
garden/yard..........g

until later my friends, I take my leave to pass out from sheer exhaustion
from the day.Thanks for listening-

madgardener, up on the moist and cold ridge, with Spring beating the windows
and doors down, back in fairy holler, overlooking English Mountain in
EAstern Tennessee where Douglas Lake is FULL from the many rains we've had
the last three days.......(we didn't get the 7+ inches of snow that
Asheville, N.C. got yesterday)