There's something disturbing about having to get out in February and do spring cleaning around the ol' homestead. Granted, this is Texas and so one never knows exactly what the weather is going to be doing from one day to the next. But still . . . it would be nice to be able to do traditional winter things (like laying on the couch under a blanket while reading a good P.G. Wodehouse).
However, when I woke up this morning, the sound of singing birds greeted my ears. My ears were also greeted with the sound of jackhammers from across the street. Turns out my neighbor is having his foundation repaired. That is also something unique to Texas, I think. We have no basements and 0ur houses are built on concrete slabs which are poured on top of shifting floes of Texas “black gumbo” clay.
But getting back to those singing birds, I knew the moment I heard them that it was going to be a springlike day here in North Texas. Never mind that two weeks ago we were encased in two solid inches of black ice, with six inches of snow on top of that. Never mind that we were having the coldest weather on record for decades. I'm talking Fargo cold and International Falls cold. I'm talking single digits. It was almost as if the International Commission on Global Warming had decided to hold its annual summit here.
So why should I be surprised when, a mere week later, we were having temperatures in the upper 70s? As an added bonus, the sky was a nice earthy brown from all of the blowing sand, sodium chloride, calcium chloride, and calcium magnesium acetate, which now had the nice, dry, powdery consistency of a good steak rub. But as an eye rub, it left a lot to be desired.
And now, two weeks later, the sky is blue, the birds are singing, and (against all odds), things are starting to bud out and grow as if it were April. Of course, I was not happy to see the things that were starting to bloom and bud. Roses would have made me happy. Daffodils would have been welcome. Crocus would have been quite pleasant. But none of those things are popping up. No, the only things popping up are dandelions, crab grass, and a host of other native Texas fauna which may be hardy, but which is not the sort of thing that one wants growing in their yard.
So, I got up, fortified myself with a cup of coffee, a bagel, a small bowl of Honey Comb, and got out into the yard. I raked up leaves that had fallen some time last fall. I trimmed back things that I wanted to discourage from growing (I believe the experts call it negative reinforcement). And I just generally spruced up.
Last spring, a strong wind came along and blew a huge limb out of my Bradford pear tree. Okay, it wasn't so much a limb as it was about a third of the tree. I got rid of most of it last spring, but I saved a few limbs and cut them into fireplace-sized pieces to use as firewood this winter. And I actually did use some of it as firewood. But I think winter is now over and there is still quite a bit of it left over, so I hauled it out into the back alley to be picked up by the city. They will turn it into mulch and sell it back to the public at a nominal fee.
So in the picture above, you can see the results of my spring cleaning efforts. I can't believe I had to do this in February, but there it is.
It could be worse. I could be having to shovel 36 inches of snow like some people up north are having to do.
I'd rather rake leaves than shovel snow any day.
February 26, 2011
Somewhere in Texas
