A few whispers of spring

A few things happened this week that spoke spring to me.  The lemons on my tree are ripening.  That has nothing to do with spring per se, but even so . . . I have about a dozen on my tree that I've tended for the last 20 years.  Christopher gave me a little spindly sprig all that time ago and it's been producing ever since.  He gave it to me because I told him I longed to have a courtyard with lemon trees.  In New Orleans.  I've had the tree for all that time and now we have a realtor.  Some years we've made lemon meringue pies.  Others limencello.  Preserved lemons.  Lemon curd.  I don't know what we'll make with this crop yet but I'm looking forward to it.


Also, Red Sox spring training started--that really does have something to do with spring. AND, it was in the 50s this weekend so I was out in the garden pruning apple trees, cutting back grasses, pulling the wild rose back onto the roof trellis.  Christopher tried out his Christmas chainsaw with obvious glee.  The plants are all still asleep but the buds are getting fat.

Finally, I put in my seed order.  Many more seeds than I'll need but it's hard to restrain myself.  And I ordered asparagus crowns.  I've heard for years that the Cape has a history of asparagus-growing so I'm taking the plunge.  Even thinking about seeds makes my fingers yearn to be in the dirt.  Whisper, whisper, whisper . . .