How does your garden grow

Potatoes are planted and so far have survived four nights covered,
but we're now out of the woods yet.

How many ways is this year in the garden different from other years? Well, for one, daytime temperatures have been in or near the 70s since the beginning of May. It's been a severe case of temptation not to plant. The rule is Memorial Day, or if you believe in folklore, when the leaves on the birch trees are bigger than a squirrel's ear. The leaves are big enough, but the temperature still drops to near freezing some nights, so temptation is being kept at bay for the most part.

Except for potatoes: They outgrew the pots I had them in so, I planted them after three days of hardening and so far they have survived four nights in the mid to high 30s with no apparent ill effects.

Female Pine grosbeak scoping.

Male Pine Grosbeak.

Then there are the unusual visitors. Normally Pine grosbeaks come to the feeders in winter and disappear somewhere over the summer. But, for the past two weeks a couple of females have been hanging around picking through the spillage left on the ground after the feeders came down. Today a male joined them and they spent a couple of hours around the yard. I posted that on a bird facebook page and a responder who lives a few miles north and west of here said they've been around that area too. That kind of cut into a wonderful theory/story I was getting into. I wondered if one of them was the female I rescued last winter, the one who slammed into the window and ended up being taken to Birds TLC in Anchorage. Was it possible the bird recovered, was released, and found its way back here and brought along a couple of friends just because I am such a great guy? Ha, probably not.

This year progress has been slowed several times when tools broke.  More broke in the past two weeks than those lost in the past 10 years. The chain saw was first and of course that's a normal one, pinched bar and fouled chain. Then a rake broke, and then a shovel. Granted both of those broke after being used in situations they weren't designed for, but they've survived  that sort of thing in the past. I haven't decided yet whether the tools wore out or I am getting stronger. But, instead of buying the cheap one at a big box again, I went to a real hardware store and bought the expensive ones. Let's see if I can break those. And, I suppose the clock is ticking on the next tool to break.

Is this an asparagus sprout?

Now, ending on a positive note, I've been clearing out and shaping up some things I have ignored in the past, for one, getting at the weeds even before I plant and trying to keep them at bay and clearing them from outside the framework around the edges. What that does is get me closer to the ground so to speak and today I made quite a discovery. Last year I planted asparagus for the first time, knowing the vegetable is a second-year harvest plant. Some stalks remained after the fall cleanup, but then Walter got in there one day and pretty much chewed them up, so I didn't expect much. Still, I have been watering the area in hopes something survived. Today I think I found a little bitty asparagus pushing through the dirt. That's what's in the small picture. There's a second sprout pushing up as well. So maybe this year I can enjoy at least one meal with my own asparagus. We'll see.

At one time there was a great breakfast cafe in Anchorage named Hog Brothers. They made some kind of dish with a poached egg, asparagus and a cheese sauce that was awesome. I have been hoping to try making one ever since they quit the business a few years ago. The place is still sorely missed by many of its regulars.

And, oh yeah, cleared out the roots from four stumps and slowly whittling down the piles of wood that needs to be split.

If the weather holds like this for another week and the forecast looks good into the next week, planting in earnest next weekend.

And, oh boy, now I feel pretty stupid. Just looked it up and the weekend I was thinking of IS Memorial Day. Duh.

I gave her the bird, literally

Rocking the Alaska garden