No matter what I set out to do, something else always grabs me. All gardeners are familiar with this phenomenon (and some have already written winningly about it!). I went into the greenhouse with every intention of shifting pots from bench to bench in an attempt at organization. It was inevitable really that I’d discover that some plants needed water so of course I checked the whole place. In the middle of that sidetrack I discovered that the larkspur seedlings were eaten (grrrr!) and spent the next 10 minutes on a slug patrol. I checked the bottom of every peat pot, booted the little devils and unceremoniously squarshed them. (I think sometimes I should pick on someone my own size but a couple of these nearly were.) Anyway I’m getting sidetracked. So, I was in the middle of doing that when I noticed that the pitcher plant (Sarracenia leucophylla ‘Tarnok’ - ‘Judith Hindle’) flower was starting to unpeel and because I promised a couple of visitors last week that I’d post a picture I had to run right then and grab my camera.

I’m so sidetracked right now by spring that I might as well just get off the train for awhile. This is the other stuff that hooked me today: New leaves on the Red Chestnut (Aesculus x carnea ‘Briotii’) still have their puppy fur. Anyone know what the fuzz is for? My guess would be frost protection but then why do only some early openers have it?

The Pasque flower (Pulsatilla vulgaris) is furry too.

The Quince (Chaenomeles) reminds me of popcorn which reminds me that it’s ages since I went out to the movies…

The Winter hazel (Corylopsis glabrescens ‘Longwood Chime’) is still shaking out her skirts.

The Water Garden Cherry (Prunus x yedoensis ‘Akebono’) is in bloom - this tree would stop you in your tracks too.

And of course the Daffodils. Peak-a-boo! Most of the ‘Ice Follies’ have bleached to white and might go by in the next couple of weeks but the late bloomers will distract you completely. This one is Narcissus poeticus. When your daffs go by, it’s ok to deadhead them but be sure to leave the foliage on to nourish the bulb for at least 6 weeks. (Ideally you should let the foliage turn completely yellow and pull it when it comes out easily.) In case you’re wondering, we do not deadhead all 50,000 daffodils but we do tidy up the ones in and around the gardens and hope that we’ve been clever enough to plant something that will fill in and hide the clumps. Do you plant cover-ups? Do you braid the foliage à la Martha Stewart? Are you so easily sidetracked that you stop noticing it?

And I almost forgot! (I was thinking about popcorn.) - The Bosquet fountain is on! I’d never seen it in action - it’s been pretty much out of commission for nearly 10 years. Thanks to a generous grant and lots of hard work it’s a water feature once again. It would be lovely to sit and listen to the trickle… FYI: our restrooms are located to the right of the mansion entrance.

I could tell this morning, when the birds were louder than the chuckle and siss of my coffee maker, that spring has sprung officially and certainly, no doubt about it. It even seemed almost a little easier to bounce out of bed this morning. Now that the forsythia is in full bloom I think it’s time to really pay attention or the next thing you know it’ll be mid-summer! Do you have color associations for the different phases of the seasons? Spring, to me, is a bright yellow and light greenish feathery time and then there’s an early summer shift to pale blue. It seemed like a lot of people walking the property today were in my early summer color - there’s a lot of blue going on and I don’t think everyone was decked out for our superstar garden and archives volunteer, Mary - or maybe they were! We, the staff, and a few volunteers definitely were. Here’s all of us wearing blue. We love you, Mary!

I’m not sure what happened to the lull I mentioned last week - it’s over and we’re already in 4th gear revved to full speed ahead. We started moving some of Dick’s and our vegetables outside to harden off and yesterday the Rockettes deadheaded the hydrangeas by the summer house and Gail and Joel and I started moving shrubs and the last few perennials out of the Idea Beds. (More on the Idea Bed redesign later.) We also planted out the foxgloves we babied in the greenhouse over the winter and helped the Florabundas cut back the old liriope leaves in the bed by the Moongate. If the days weren’t so beautiful our crews might have complained bitterly about their hydrangea and liriope chores being like deadheading the Coryopsis ‘Moonbeam’ - which if you’ve ever attempted that task you know it’s tedious-ridiculous-endless. We don’t have any ‘Moonbeam’ in the gardens anymore…

And I can’t leave out the daffodil report. It’s so close to peak I’m calling it pretty nearly peak. The next couple of days are forecasted stunners and I think that the buds that are poised to open might just have to pop. We still think full and total peak will occur this weekend and into and beyond next week as long as the weather cooperates. Keep an eye on the forecast and please come through whenever you can!

Vacation week is perfectly timed this year or else it’s the daffs that are right on time. No matter if you think that spring is early or late this year, it’s surely happening now. And it’s Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (hosted by gracious Carol of May Dreams Gardens)! It’s all blooms all the time from now until Christmas and here’s a little taste of what’s open: First and foremost, the Daffodils. Probably 60% are open — I think all of the ‘Ice Follies’ are showing and we think, depending entirely on the weather, we should be at 98% (that’s peak!) by early next week. And the show will go on barring tempests, freezes or scorchers — then, of course all bets are off. So come when you can! You’ll also see these other things blooming today if you’re on the lookout:

Sharp leaved hepatica (Hepatica acutiloba) in the Rock Garden,

Lungwort (Pulmonaria augustifolia azurea) camouflaged with the Scilla also in the Rock Garden,

Another Lungwort (Pulmonaria sacchorata ‘Mrs. Moon’) in the Rock Garden,

Narcissus ‘Ice Follies’ in the Water Garden,

Dawn viburnum (Viburnum x bodnantense) on the path between the Bosquet and the Water Garden,

And check out the Katsuras (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) blooming!

I almost hesitate to show the weeping katsura blooms up close (they’re a little pornagraphic don’t you think? - Maybe sensual is a better word. I’m having a Georgia O’Keefe moment…)

And did you notice? - There are some new decorations on the left hand side bar. The first one is Blotanical and if you don’t already know about this terrific site, take a look. It’s all garden blogs - and blooms - all the time from all over the world and placed so handily at your very fingertips. You can search by location and see if any of your neighbors have opened their gardens to the public. The site was developed by a genius Aussie named Stuart who you might have met in our comments box from time to time . (Maybe one of these days he’ll visit us in the flesh! I think he should make a point of visiting all of us garden bloggers…)

And we’ve also decided to join the commercial world and have made room for an Amazon ad. Our hope is that anytime you need, want, desire something from Amazon.com, you’ll stop by the blog first (and don’t we all order from Amazon occasionally? - it’s just so conveeeenient). By clicking on our link and following through with a purchase, Amazon will send us a commission. It’s one of the very easiest ways to make a donation. Of course if you’d like to make an actual tax deductible donation please click here! I will try to keep the Amazon ad interesting by posting our favorite books - which just happen to be available for purchase!

Happy Bloom Day everyone (and happy shopping!)

I think gardeners as a rule don’t beat around the bush. We’re more likely to dish the dirt. And what’s the point of sugar coating when our world is already so delicious? I haven’t yet met a gardener who isn’t vociferously opinionated and fickle as a five year old. And it takes one to know one! We have to have a clear idea of what we like in order to find focus in our gardens - nevermind that what we like changes with the season if not daily. And although we tend to be grounded and realistic about what we can accomplish, we definitely shoot for the moon sometimes. A gentleman came into the greenhouse today and cheerfully told me that he planted 200 daffodils last fall and only 3 came up. I’d guess that like most gardeners I know, he was braced for failure the moment he planted those bulbs and has already moved on to the next thing - which happened to be a meander through our efforts. (Or, like most gardeners, he tells a good story.) And don’t we love to share?

We want to tell the absolute sugar-free truth about our gardens and enjoy nothing better than comparing notes. What do you love today? I can tell you that daffodils aren’t my personal favorite flower. Except that they absolutely are. I especially love this one at my house which I’m almost as proud of as the thousands blooming today in the Bosquet. But I’m also head over heels in love with all of the other things that are blooming today - like the flowers on the Camperdown Elm (Ulmus glabra ‘Camperdownii’).

I’ll show more of my fickle favorites tomorrow for Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day which falls on the 15th of every month. I met another gardener today and when I asked her if this was her first visit to Blithewold she said, “Yes - but it’s not my last!” No beating around the bush - and no doubt she’ll have different faves and raves next time too.

The weather this past weekend wasn’t as awful as predicted and steamy sun on Saturday unfolded more daffodils in the Bosquet. And with sunny days in the forecast for this vacation week, we’re likely to get pretty close to full disclosure. I’ll keep telling it like it is! (But don’t take my word for it - come see for yourself)

I got a full dose of vitamin D yesterday - I think everyone here did. It was our first short-sleeve warm sunny day and it seemed like the world was out taking deep sips. I know that I should have been suited up in a wide brimmed hat with plenty of brand new sunscreen slathered on every exposed inch but covered up was the last thing I wanted to be (though modesty precluded a striptease). There’s plenty of debate between getting our vitamin D from the sun vs. getting skin cancer from the same exposure and call me a vitamin D junkie but yesterday I got my fix and went home with an (un)healthy glow. What is it about the sun this time of year that can make you feel so great? It was softly warm and totally energizing. I’ve read that vitamin D isn’t linked to mood - though after years feeling S.A.D.D. in the dimly lit Pacific Northwest I have to think that it’s doing something to improve my outlook - maybe just knowing my calcium absorption rate is improved makes me feel livelier…

Whatever it was (the sun, the heat, the birds’ chatter) made me feel ready to go,go,go but we have reached that limbo stage in spring that is actually perfectly timed with the soft days. The gardens are tidy and ready and we’ve got a couple-week lull before the frenzy of spring and early summer planting. It’s not as if there aren’t chores to take care of right now but they’re not particularly taxing yet (no pun intended for those of you against the deadline). Now is when we concentrate on getting the greenhouse inhabitants groomed and ready for their eventual move outside (the Camellias are already out!) and we transplant hundreds of seedlings - more fastidious, deliberately sedate work is hard to come by. If you haven’t started a feeding schedule for your houseplants, now’s definitely the time. Give them their vitamins on the next sunny day along with a thorough check-up and groom session. And get yourself outside (as if you need convincing!). But if you’ve finished spring cleaning the garden (have you finished?) and are energetically wondering what’s next, take a walk. So much of gardening is noticing and there are definitely times of year when we get so focused on the doing of gardening that we might (I speak for myself at least) forget to notice. The peepers are back; The ospreys were right on time; there are bees in the scilla - have you noticed? I also love (and you know this about me already - now is when I start to repeat myself) to look up close at everything this time of year. There’s something so amazing about the little things.

From a distance the red maples are a hillside haze of red - up close they are garnet ornaments.

In the lull of the next couple of weeks, take your vitamins in the form of daffodil solar flares (even if daffs aren’t your thing, don’t they make you feel a little bit happy?) and a skyward gaze at the buds in trees. Yesterday’s warmth encouraged a few more daffodils to open - the Bosquet is not completely carpeted yet but its throw rugs are gorgeous. The weekend weather is forecast to be pretty dirty but don’t let a little rain and wind stop you from getting out and coming here. We’ve got displays in the house (check out Bessie’s awesome hats) and a great view into the Bosquet from the living room.

I think most gardeners don’t need to be reminded to stop and smell the proverbial roses. But according to this Pulitzer Prize winning article written last year by Gene Weingarten of the Washington Post, a lot of people are too busy for roses - even when the roses are world class violinists. Over a thousand people at a Washington D.C. subway stop were freely serenaded by Joshua Bell, the most fabulous hot ticket violinist ($100 for a nosebleed seat) playing his multi-million dollar actual Stradivari - and all but 7 or so commuters walked right by! It makes me take inventory of what would stop me in my tracks. — What do you brake for?

We often talk about how to entice the thousands of people who drive 40 mph along Ferry Road every day to stop here. Last fall we drilled holes for Daffodils in the entrance bed, I’ve planted a pot, we have a big sign and you can see glimpses of much of the meticulously tended property from the road. But those things might only be noticeable to those of us who are already on the lookout. Blithewold, especially in spring (and summer, fall and winter) is playing its Strad. And all we can do is hope that a few out of the thousands decide that “busy” is for the bees and take some time to pause and smell the roses - or the the stinking hellebores Helleborus foetidus (the leaves are pungent when crushed) and the Skunk cabbage (Lysichiton). You’d never notice the Tulipa ‘Johann Strauss’ from the road and you would totally miss the flowerless but stunning view of a sun patch on the great lawn. And let’s not forget the daffodils. You might get a peek from the road but you’ve got to come in to see that more and more have opened up in the last couple of days. It’s too bad our opening weekend looks rainy but the show will go on and on. Watch the weather - more sunny days means more blooms and cool nights will encourage them to take their time. -Hope you come and take your time too!

I predict that this year the daffodils will open. I really think they will! As a matter of fact, some of them have already opened! Every year Blithewold officially opens its doors for the season during the peak daffodil bloom. Or thereabouts. And every year we all try to predict when the majority of the 50,000 will be open so that visitors who travel great distances to see the Bosquet in its famous glory won’t be disappointed.

If we could press a button (I picture it as a bright yellow knob that could be smacked with the flat of the palm - or as a giant on/off toggle that could be thrown ceremoniously like a cartoon electric switch) we’d turn them on on a Friday afternoon before a sunny weekend in the exact middle of April. But we gardeners know that flowers open only when they’re good and ready not because we’re standing over them shouting “Go!”. And although some of us aren’t above peeling open a bud to “help it along”, that isn’t a recommended method for coaxing thousands of daffodils. We have to be patient and at Blithewold we cross our fingers too. If the daffs open too early, their admirers won’t be on the ball to enjoy them; too late and they’ll miss the party thrown in their honor.

I can’t say yet when the peak will be this year - predicting that with any accuracy is something only God and Julie can do. I just want to make sure nobody misses anything. The best thing to do is get yourself a membership and start taking Blithewold walks now even if you have to wear ear muffs and galoshes. Watch the weather - the sun is supposed to come out this week which will no doubt inspire a few more buds to unwrap and the night temperatures are still in the 30’s which should ensure that the blooms rest open like they would in a florist’s fridge.

And whether or not you time your timing to be dazzled by daffs during your visit to Blithewold, there are other things to notice too. Look for spring and find it in the Autumn Cherry,

fattly budded quince and forsythia, the Cornelian Cherry,

and adorable pleated baby leaves of the Siebold viburnum.

Are you planning a road trip to see a daffodil show? Ours or someone else’s? Will you wait (with bated breath) for the peak bloom or see what you see when you see it?

Wherever you are, in spring there comes a time when you should really stop avoiding your rose pruning duties. I don’t know what it is about roses but they seem to give people anxiety. I know I’m not the only one who has worried about doing roses “wrong”. People always stop to watch and learn when we’re working on the roses as if we might reveal the secret handshake. But you don’t have to be a part of a club to grow a pretty rose and even if you don’t obey the “rules”, the Rose Society police won’t arrest you for misconduct. (I’m pretty sure.)

The best time for spring pruning is before the buds have broken and on a mild weather day when all you want is to be outside doing something productive. Pruning when the roses are ready to break dormancy will ensure that all of their fresh energy goes straight into the canes and buds that you’ve decided to keep. Most of the roses we grow in the Rose Garden and North Garden are shrub roses and floribundas and those seem to love a heavy hand in the spring. (New roses only a year or two old prefer a lighter touch.) For instruction on different kinds of roses like climbers and hybrid teas, there are shelves of books written by experts - your local library probably has a ton.

We cut most of our roses back by about a third but I have to admit that once I get going, more like half goes sometimes. Cut out all the dead canes and give your rose the hairy eyeball to determine if any of the more elderly canes should come out as well. Take your time and go cane by cane - If there’s a young healthy cane and an old one side by side - maybe go ahead and take out some or all of the old one to give the new one room to grow. Your rose will tell you what to do - if you cut too far above a bud, you’ll find an ugly dead stub there in a few weeks. Cut too low and the bud might die. If you make your cut at an angle the water will run off rather than pool in the wound (who wants that?). Think about the shape of the rose to come. A lot of roses look their best with plenty of air circulation through the plant. If you cut above buds that face out rather than in, you’ll be helping the plant to not choke itself. (The books will tell you to make a V shape.) Crossed canes are another something to look for and cut out.

When the volunteers and I started this year’s pruning with trepidation, Julie reminded us, “Plants are forgiving”. Don’t be afraid. Even if you stand back and think you just butchered your prize ‘Ballerina’, it will probably reward your brutality by growing gangbusters.

Have you worked on your roses yet? Do you have a heavy hand or light touch?

The roses aren’t the only things in the garden ready to grow. We’ve started cleaning up the perennial beds - it’s much easier to cut back the dead when the new growth is still tight at the crown. And the Daffodils are looking like a few warm days is all it would take to bust out singing. I still think the peak bloom will be on schedule during the events of Daffodil Days but some of the ‘Ice Follies’ might start their show this weekend. (The house opens for the season on April 12; the grounds are open now.)

I have to admit that on my rainy ride home from the airport last week I despaired of seeing spring anytime soon here. Anyone who has ever ridden down Rt. 24 between Boston and Fall River knows “bleak” - even on a sunny midsummer’s day that’s a dreary drive. But now that I’m off that highway and back at Blithewold I’m convinced that something is really actually happening spring-wise. And it seems like it’s happening a lot sooner than last year. Look at this post from last April 9. - And this is now - almost 2 weeks sooner.

But it all depends on the weather. Last year I noted in my calendar that the 1st daffs were spotted in the Bosquet on April 3 but that peak wasn’t until the week of the 23rd! In between we had had a few monster storms and I sprayed shading on the sweltering greenhouse twice. This year, who knows? (anyone? anyone?)

I think the early Easter has me all unstuck in time - I had to look up how the Church determines the date: It’s set to be on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox. This was the earliest Easter in something like 95 years. Is the early full moon affecting our gardens or just my mind? (–There is a discrepancy some years between the astronomical and ecclesiastical dates of the equinox - to test my early moon= early spring theory I’ll have to start paying closer attention to the sky rather than to the date breakfast is served with a side of jelly beans and marshmellow peeps.)

But I swear something’s happening and it seems early. The birds are making a racket, Gail has heard peepers and we’re all getting out of the house. The volunteers got outside this week to clean up Display Garden beds and start on the Rock Garden and the Florabundas got started with lots of laughs and some Rose Garden pruning. And the guys, who flinched and fled before my camera like paparazzi plagued rock stars, have been busy lifting heavy things in the Display Garden and initiating Joel - I’ll only call him “The New Guy” this once. (Welcome to Blithewold, Joel!)

According to my calendar, we’re right on schedule…

Do you keep a calendar from year to year? Have you felt a difference in timing only to discover from your notes that it’s going like clockwork? Do you dare to make bloom time predictions in your garden?

I’m back! Mostly. Pretty much. Almost. Paris was a fantastical and footsore dream and I’d love nothing better than to go back there right now - we’re scheming about finding grants to attend the beekeeping school at Jardin du Luxembourg (me) and Le Cordon Bleu (he). And if I can’t be in Paris, I’d love nothing better than to be checking on spring at Blithewold. But instead I’m home with a bug. (Perhaps intestinal distress was a gift from the woman who shared my seat on the plane - I’ll have to put her on the ThankYou note list - I have a year, right?)

In Paris spring was on the march (ha! unintentional pun totally intended) with daffs already starting to go by. Here they’re up and budded. Word is, Blithewold’s 50,000 or so might be a titch earlier to bloom this year than last so make sure to stay tuned for my up to the minute updates and daff cam. ‘Little Gem’ planted by the Moon Gate are already out so the biggies starting with ‘Ice Follies’ shouldn’t be too far behind.

In other news, Gail is famous! Check out this article by Linda Borg of the Providence Journal. A couple of amendments are necessary: Gail didn’t say that all of the 600 tulips in the North Garden were eaten by deer - heaven forbid!! She said she hopes they won’t be! (Precautions have been taken because the show must go on!) And to clarify - our resident wild honeybees reside in a horse chestnut stump near the greenhouse - they only come inside for visits, not to stay.

Please catch me up - I’ve been out of the loop! How is spring March-ing on for you?