Short sleeves, long handles, short sleeves, long handles. The weatherman must be getting senile. My flowers might be, too.
Jonquils are sporting fat buds, iris are blooming months before their time and my lesser celandine must think it's spring, because I'm already finding their cheerful yellow faces. Me, oh, my.
Shouldn't be but a matter of days before my February Golds are in bloom. These little jonquils aren't very big or very showy - or especially pretty by most standards - but they're gorgeous to me. That's because they're among the earliest signs of my favorite season.
When I see their foliage, I know it's time to tackle the first gardening chores of the new year. Among them:
Plow and lime the garden when the ground is dry enough to work. This means anytime you can pick up a handful of dirt, squeeze it and it crumbles instead of turning into a baseball. Matt also plans to scatter mixed greens in one end of a raised bed, which may be a while, considering all the rain we've had lately.
You don't have to cover these tiny seeds with soil. The next drizzle should bury the little things barely beneath the surface; just what they need for a healthy start. Assuming winter doesn't do them in. If it does, what's a few minutes and a candy bar's worth of seeds? It just means we'll try again.
Cut that liriope (some call it monkey grass) back to the ground before it starts putting out new growth. The string trimmer and a good rake make quick work of what can be an arduous task if done by hand.
Trim those nandina bushes. That way you won't hinder berry production. But be careful how you trim. I still remember when Granddad chopped Mother's nandinas down to their knees. Looked like clusters of bare sticks poked in the ground. It was at least a week before he started getting his daily dose of hot breakfast biscuits again.
Here's the scoop. Instead of giving nandinas a serious flattop, you're supposed to examine each bush with a layered haircut in mind. Cut about a quarter of the stalks off at ground level. (I'm serious.) Trim another fourth of the stalks off at their knees.
Now stand back and eyeball the thing while you've still got half the plant to work with. No point in getting all in a swidget about this. Whack half the remaining stems at the bra-line, let the others be, and call yourself done.
That plant may look downright silly now, but come spring it will start filling out. First thing you know, you'll have a beauty. And berries a-plenty next winter.
Speaking of berries, don't hesitate to bring the ones you've clipped inside. Foliage too. A house in January needs all the help it can get, and a little vase filled with some of that dainty barnyard red foliage is just as appealing as the berries.
A couple more pointers on nandinas.
They make a better show if you cluster the bushes in uneven numbers. Try at least three or five in a grouping; seven is even better if you have the room. In the winter, whenever the ground isn't too soggy, is the best time to rearrange them. Or to plant more. Same goes for other shrubs and trees.
In addition to the orange and red varieties, some nandinas come with pale yellow and golden berries, both of which would make a pleasant addition to any garden. And think what those berries could do for fall arrangements or the Thanksgiving table. These varieties prefer dappled or afternoon shade rather than full sun, I'm told.
If your hands haven't frozen by now, you also should give those butterfly bushes a hearty trim. The goal is to chop the whole thing to within a foot or so of the ground. Granddaddy would be in his element here. That way they'll get bushier, bloom more and might not outgrow their welcome.
Ditto for lantana, which - by the way - isn't always hearty. But if it makes a re-run this summer (and most likely it will), you'll have heartier, happier, thicker bushes.
I wonder if the reason some of us are bushing out is because we've had too many trim jobs, too.
