A few weeks ago I wrote:
One minute I was hiding the citrus pots from frost. The next, I'm out in the garden in a t-shirt, watering the bloody things.
But yesterday I had to run outside IN THE SNOW (and in pyjamas and gum boots) and drag the citrus pots back under the eaves. We've never had actual snow here before. Not much but enough to feel special
Then there was hail. There was torrential rain.
The spring blossom took a pounding so I fear for this year's crops of pears and cherries. The new acres of mulch are nicely watered in. I can't finish the whipper-snipping, because I'll just make grass pesto.
So that's why we don't plant tomatoes until after Cup Day. That, and because my Uncle Phil always said so. And he was right.
