The winter of 2022-23 was colder and snowier than usual. DF didn’t mind the snowy part, since up to five days a week he used a senior-discount weekday pass at Alyeska Resort. Since I’m not into downhill skiing (or cross-country, for that matter), I declined to accompany him but was glad he was having such a good time.
I did not have a good time this winter. It was hard to stay positive through gloomy day after gloomy day, and super-easy to berate myself about that: You have a partner who tells you daily how much he loves you, and wonderful family and friends. To say nothing of a comfortable home, good food and a flex-schedule job you can do in your PJs. Why do you let the bad outweigh the good?
My mood has improved, because I finally was able to look deeply at what was really bothering me. Turns out it wasn’t just lack of daylight, but a combination of several other factors. Having been in therapy before, I was finally able to isolate those issues and look plainly at them. But this is an ongoing process, i.e., some days it was easier to eat my feelings than examine them. Which of course led to weight gain and additional dismay and also exacerbated a physical condition, which led to even more dismay/discomfort.
(Physical condition has been diagnosed. Won’t bore you with the details except to say that it is not life-threatening but will require physical therapy. On the bright side, that gives me something to blog about later on.)
But I knew none of this stuff mattered because spring was on the way! May and June are my favorite months here, and the nearly nonstop sun is a tonic that fixes just about everything.
Except that spring is still on the way. Maybe it got lost. Maybe it’s messing with us. Maybe it will show up in July. Whatever the reason, I’ve been referring to last month and this one “the spring that wasn’t.”
It never reached 60 degrees in the entire month of May and has barely reached 60 thus far this month. Temps are in the 40s at night and somewhere in the 50s during the day. (Wish I could send cool air to the regions that need it so desperately.) We’ve seen mostly gray skies, and experienced extraordinary wind. The other day I stepped outdoors to shake out some rugs and I was cold. In June! Dammit!
“Spring” has stunted the garden
Longtime gardeners say that we’re three weeks behind in growth. I believe it. The potatoes have barely broken the surface. Plenty of the peas never sprouted at all; the zucchini seeds never germinated, either. Our pumpkin plants are stunted, shivering under a plastic-wrapped greenhouse frame.
We can replant the peas, and we can wait until mid-September for optimum spud size. And when the sun does peek out, even briefly, our greenhouse warms up fast. But we need consistent warmth to bring our tomatoes to fruit, and we’re not getting it. The cucumbers don’t mind cooler weather and are doing fairly well, but are nowhere near as tall as they should be.
Here’s a photo of the greenhouse on May 12. Looks pretty sparse, huh? You’d be sparse, too, if you were shivering in 44-degree overnight temperatures.
And here’s a photo I shot on June 10:
Incidentally, the very tall plants at the far end of the right-hand bench are ringers: DF went temporarily mad and bought a couple of mature tomato starts that already had fruit ripening. Too bad he didn’t wait, because a couple of weeks after he bought them, I won a local contest whose prize package included a gift card to that very nursery.
Also on the right-hand side are six plants we bought from a local grower. They are new-to-us varieties, MatSu Express and MatSu Backcross, bred specifically for Alaska gardens at a regional greenhouse. These particular plants are clones created by a local grower from plants that had been started as seed on Feb. 1. Since our baby plants were technically the same age as their parent plants, they have been playing mad catch-up since early May. They’re sporting loads of flowers and even a tiny fruit or two. (Fun fact: It was snowing on May 3, the day we picked them up.)
The other tomato plants were started in our living room, with seeds collected from last year’s harvest: Cherokee Purple, Black Russian and Sweet 100. The English cucumbers are called “Chelsea Prize” and sold through Renee’s Gardens, a variety I would recommend for its size and sweetness even if I weren’t an affiliate and therefore eligible for a small fee for every purchase made through my link. They are sweet and crisp, with a flavor almost like melon.
Comparing the two photos you can see that there’s been noticeable growth on all these plants. After all, even a cloudy day has some light in it. (Refuse to call it “sunlight,” though. I refer to it as “sunlike.”) But the plants are not doing as well as they should be at this time of year.
On the bright side…
The raspberries are growing slowly but they are growing, and they’re thick with buds. Strawberry blossoms abound as well, including on the Toklat strawbs that really took off last year. The variety was created up in Fairbanks, specifically for Alaska weather, and have an unusual, bush-like shape instead of the usual sprawling growth pattern that I associate with strawberries. Not that they don’t send out feelers; we started a lot of new plants from last year’s suckers, and all of them made it through the winter.
The apple tree is an explosion of ruffly white. It surprises me that the wind hasn’t blown the petals away yet. A second tree, planted last year to replace one that was winter-girdled by voles, is also showing a lot of promise.
The Evans cherry tree we put in last year is also loaded with blossoms. There’s an old saying about fruit trees: The first year it sleeps, the second year it creeps and the third year it leaps. Last year was definitely a sleepy year, with no blossoms at all. But this year’s floral showing makes me think that Evans the cherry* has skipped straight to year three.
Here’s hoping all those flowers turn to fruit, and that the birds don’t figure out a way to get under the netting we’ll have to drape.
And the rhubarb? Oh, boy, the rhubarb. You couldn’t kill that stuff with a flamethrower and a can of Blazo. I’ve already cut and frozen enough to make nine “raspberry blue-barb” pies in the coming year. (Raspberries will be added as we pick them, and blueberries will come from the frozen food section at Costco.)
Didn’t set out to create a mosaic, but that’s what happened.
I’ve also made and canned seven pints of rhubarb compote, with more to come. Lots more, I hope, because it’s so good with my homemade yogurt. It’s so pretty this year, reminding me of seven little strawberry milkshakes:
I found a new rhubarb cake recipe that is wildly delicious: moist, spicy-sweet and tangy, so I diced and froze enough to make three more cakes. The recipe would probably also work with pineapple bits, or tart green apples, or any other non-sugary fruit if I can’t get enough rhubarb this year.
If you’re interested, the recipe** is from Spend With Pennies. This spring wasn’t, but this cake surely was.
Readers: How is your spring going? Or did you leap straight to the dog days?
*Yes. Our tree is Welsh.
**As is my wont, I tinkered the recipe by using bottled lemon juice, two eggs instead of one and a whole teaspoon of cinnamon in the topping rather than a quarter-teaspoon.
We are having much the same in Colorado as you — which is really weird. Rain nearly every day. Way cooler weather. And this is technically “high desert.”
It’s been too cold for me to plant beans and tomatoes safely — though we’ve not technically had a freeze since early May. (I just got these in last week.) Normally, we’re sweltering by now and the fields are turning brown and gold. Instead, it looks and feels like Ireland out there.
Meanwhile, our Michigan friends are whining that they’ve had hardly any rain. And we heard about a Pennsylvania gardener that couldn’t even plant a garden this year — the ground was too rock-hard, with heat and no rain, that he couldn’t get a rototiller through it. Go figure.
Husband the Brick said, “Did we move states — and just didn’t realize it??”
Ireland, huh? Time to plant potatoes.
I’m in CO too! Totally agree with you
When we moved to Downeast Maine, the local folk warned us there would be “nine months of winter and three months of bad sleddin’!” They weren’t joking. Winters were expected. The “mud season” that replaced spring was the hardest. The sun was never seen during one entire May when we lived there. And May hast 31 days! Ugh. Now, living down south in Boston, there are pops of brilliant days that make a big difference in everyone’s mood. You are not alone.
Rhubarb is amazing. When it likes a spot, it gives and gives. I miss my nephew’s plants in Maine. I’m sure it will be at the farmer’s market this week. I’ll try that cake!
Looks like the winter of your discontent is being made glorious Spring (almost). Hope the Shakespeare reference put a little smile on your face. Here in ME/NH border area Spring/Summer has also been slow to arrive. I have yet to sleep with the windows open & we have yet to have more than a few truly warm days. However it does beat the several power outages we had back in the coldest part of winter & and the minus 100 degrees F. Wind chill we had here on Mt. Washington.
Our weather in Central NY hasn’t been quite as bad as yours, but it’s been bad enough: too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, and smoke from the Quebec wildfires on top of all that. Argh.
And although my latest news may only bring you down further, here it is in yesterday’s post on The Frugal Girl (https://www.thefrugalgirl.com/an-update-from-a-marie/). It is what it is. Let’s all join hands as we ride out the rough times.
I am so sorry for your loss. We’re never really ready to lose a loved one, even if we know it’s inevitable.
My hand is reaching out to yours. Rough times, indeed.
Wishing you healing, and peace.
So very sorry A Marie. Wishing you comfort in the days ahead.
Ann J
Oh A. Marie, I am so very sorry to learn of your husband’s death. You were certainly his rock, advocate, and soft place to land during his final years. Peace be with you.
This has really been quite the year for odd weather for both of us! Our 3 months of rainstorms, your missing spring. What next?
A question about the cucumbers: how easy are they to grow and are they often targets for pests and animals? I’ve been trying to think of something else to grow we all like to eat that is as or nearly as easy as potatoes. The potatoes are perfect for my level of time, attention, and physical ability right now: throw some seed spuds in and ignore them until the plants come up. Bury the plants and wait for them to die. Lots of waiting and ignoring! 🙂
Greenhouse cukes are pretty easy, except that you must stay on top of the watering. A two- or three-gallon pot just isn’t much soil medium, i.e., the roots can go only so deep to find moisture. One or both of us will check the greenhouse at least a couple times a day (it makes a good ergo break for me). It’s possible to buy a product that’s like a bunch of little sponges that mix with the soil; it absorbs water and releases it later.
If you were planting outside, you might not have a watering issue. Not sure about pests in your region; up here we’re lucky to have relatively few.
What I like about the cukes is that you can grow them straight up a string or cage. In Chicago I went to a house where the gardener had them growing up her entry stairwell; the strings were tied to her wrought-iron railing and the cuke vines were quite happily entwined.
This year we have a new thing to try, called “green powder.” Apparently the leaves of pumpkin vines have a surprisingly high amount of iron; squash, cucumber and sweet potato leaves are also edible, as are certain weeds (lamb’s quarter, etc.) and of course things like spinach, kale, carrot, beet and radish foliage. You dehydrate them and then pulse them in a blender. We’ve been having fun anticipating what we’d stir the powder into (soup, stew, meat loaf makings and of course bread dough). That is, if we ever get any leaves.
Here’s the link:
https://www.thepurposefulpantry.com/homemade-green-powder/
There are many recipes for cooking using the leaves as wraps. There are several cultures where pumpkin leaves feature prominently in dishes and thanks to the internet they are readily available.
I’d read that somewhere myself. But we’re going to grind them up so we can save them to use later in the year. That is, we’ll grind them up if the pumpkin plants survive. Right now they’re a bit…startled.
Your garden is so beautiful Donna! We are having a nasty drought here in Chicago so I have been doing indoor plants only so I can monitor them .I am still grieving badly so I did not plant my flowers this year, the wild roses are growing out front and they look pretty for now.
Lost my entire garden to the frost in early June; I have done some replanting but having to buy starts is expensive and the point of the garden (besides fresh eating) is to save money. Unlike you, I detest the constant daylight, it seems so intrusive. I much prefer the darkness of winter; I loved living in the formerly named Barrow where it was dark 24 hours a day for three months. As you can tell, I am in a very crabby mood this morning! And I have to go to the dentist today for a chipped tooth! Like you, I try to remind myself of my many, many blessings. Somedays it works, others it does not. I am really glad to hear you are on an upswing and that your physical problem is not serious. And I love that your partner is able to make such good use of his Alyeska pass. It was a brightener to see a new post from you today.
Even in the deep South, we had a cold spring and not enough rain this month. I have babied along some tomatoes and herbs, which are doing okay.
I am in my third month of physical therapy to help my arthritis. It’s tough but going well.
It is currently 48 degrees at 11 a.m. at sea level near solstice, and I am very discouraged.
It’s hard to believe it’s creeping toward the 4th of July with the weather we’ve had here in Massachusetts with no sign of relief any time soon. The past two weeks have been a near constant game of “Is it going to rain today?” “No, it looks pretty sunny.” Two hours later rain moves in. To hang laundry on the line is taking a real gamble. Cool and rainy weather forecasted for the weekend too. We’re experiencing smoke from the Canadian wildfires so it makes even the sunny skies look muted.
Your tomato plants are looking brave in their effort against the cold temps and grey skies, and I think you are sounding brave in your journey through the spring that wasn’t. Cake sure helps things though, doesn’t it?
Cake softens many of life’s blows.
Always nice to read a new blog! This year I planted some cherry tomatoes in pots. They were off to a great start, then were mowed down by deer. They grew back and were then mowed down again. We are trying to find a solution to the deer eating the plants!
Do you have a raised deck or porch? Would you consider container gardening? Both were the answer to our resident woodchucks eating my veggies. They will not venture up onto the deck and tomatoes grow fabulously in containers. I don’t know if deer would be so inclined, but it might solve your issue.
Spring has sproinged in our parts: 110 and humid yesterday. It’s a bit too hot now to grow anything other than squash and certain kinds of melons. And weeds.
Out the door at 5:30 a.m. to get the dog walked before the pavement is too hot for her feet. Everyone else has the same idea: spend an hour dodging other people’s dogs. And sweating: even as dawn cracks, it’s hot.
Sounds…sweaty.
I’ll be down in Phoenix-town in October. Let’s be ladies who lunch?
winter-girdled by voles – what does that mean?
So good to see anthing from you! I’m having a bad couple days, and needed a lift. Thanks! Sorry you are feeling poorly, mentally and physically.
Garden story – we are in PA, and still in drought. Planted the week of Mother’s Day. Now have stunted tomato and pepper plants, about 12 – 18 inches tall, with blossoms. We were gone for 8 days to Tucson, and came back to still no rain and rock hard ground. Does not look like the basil sprouted. The squirrels dug up the three baby watermelon plants to bury a peanut in its’ shell….The roots still looked good, so I replanted them into a large garden pot/urn until they recover and are standing upright again. Plenty of weeds, in the ground, in the walkways of the garden, and the sidewalks out front. Will likely need Roundup and my new large loper to handle them. The green beans have leaves and look ok. Had a couple days of heat and humidity, and the promised rain/deluge was just a pipe dream.
I’m going to try and have at least a small pitching party (= pitch the shit out) and get rid of some of the clutter that I think is affecting me. Also going to make some vast amounts of unsweetened iced tea and drink it down. Can’t believe the prices at the fast food restaurants, and others for tea, and that most of the time it tastes like it has already soured. Luckily found some very reduced teas at a Walmart in Maryland, on the way home from the airport.
Have a great week! Spirits up!
“Winter-girdled by voles” means that voles ate the bark off the tree almost all the way around, effectively girdling it. Girdling was an old-time way of killing trees en masse; some people use it now to take out invasive species. If girdled deeply enough, the tree can no longer take up nutrients and it slowly dies.
DF replanted the tree elsewhere on the property, but it is completely dead. Not a sign of green or growth. RIP.
I’ve been brewing plenty of unsweetened tea myself lately, even though it’s not hot. Just my favorite (and very affordable!) beverage any time of the day, next to plain water. We’re very lucky to have good water here.