Last Friday, the sun came out. It's probably only a temporary thing. We usually get a patch of sunny, warm(ish) weather in February before returning to rain and gray for months. As one of the other mothers at the bus stop said, "I forget it's only February and, well, March, April and May will just suck."
But while it lasts, it's glorious.
Caitlyn, of course, thinks this means that the groundhog didn't see his shadow on Thursday and spring and summer will be arriving early. (I haven't gotten around to telling her he did.) She'd be happiest if we could arrange for 6 months of supremely excellent sledding weather followed by an abrupt transition to swimming weather. I like the transition seasons of spring and fall too much, though, to keep a winter home in Montana and a summer home in Barbados.
I spent Friday and Saturday in the garden. There are now fresh wood chips tucked under the sleeping blueberries and raspberries, spread between the vegetable beds, and - for the first time ever - layered deeply on the walkway beside the house. I may have gotten a little carried away there; the chips are so deep, there's a sort of weird "fluffy" feeling to walking on them. It was great fun, though, to not have to worry about running out of chips before I'd mulched everything the way I wanted to. I'd gotten a whole truck load (now that's a lot of wood chips!) in trade for a flowering currant which had out-grown the front yard. I love being able to give my too-big plants bigger homes instead of sending them out for composting. I think not doing so would be sort of like punishing children for out-growing their clothes.
The garden looks remarkably good for early February. Despite our snow, there's little to no frost damage. Any other year, I'd be pulling winter-kill off of all sorts of things, and I suppose it's possible I still might. Right now, though, the beds under the cherry tree and apple tree are already (still?) green and leafy, and the yard isn't quite as stark as it might be.
I also took advantage of the sunshine to shift some plants around. Hopefully, the dormant things are still truly dormant. I moved a blueberry out of where it was being shaded by raspberries and have my fingers crossed that I didn't inadvertently kill the poor thing, especially since it's been my best blueberry producer. The raspberries, being raspberries, will probably expand into the blueberry's former turf. If it all goes well, I'll have multiple happy plants and more berries. That's a win for everyone.