Garden timing

I couldn't even stay awake for all six acts of "American Idol" last night. Wore myself out rototilling and planting the garden. And, this morning that the Polar breeze is blowing limbs, leaves, and spruce combs across my newly-mown lawn. It's definitely " situation normal" in North Idaho.

More than likely, the bean, carrot, corn and radish seeds will sit idle during the cold days and rot later when the next two weeks of spring rains come. By the time the wind stops, my entire lawn will resemble a war zone. I'll go out there and either cuss up another storm while picking them all up or just get mad and attack 'em with the riding lawnmower.

The spring guessing game of when to do what in the yard and garden keeps us all very humble here, just as many aspects of living in North Idaho do. They can build all the fancy new structures, they can bring in lots of money to the area and attract a whole new passle of people, but one thing never changes here. The weather gods will get you one way or the other.

All that money from Seattle didn't have a lick of influence when Schweitzer wanted some snow this winter. When farmers and gardeners have a banner year here, it's usually one to mark on the calendars. Normally, there's either too much rain at the wrong times or not enough to grow anything. If ya think your fruit trees are loaded down more than ever with blossoms, you can count on a good freeze to pop that balloon.

Regardless of the constant, almost predictable setbacks, we resilient North Idahoans continue working our hearts out to defy the odds. If my garden, planted during the 76-degree glorious day yesterday, succumbs to spring weather surprises, I'll just go get more seeds and plant it again.

I won't feel any sense of loss either because I enjoyed every minute of rototilling, raking, hoeing, sowing, and stamping the soil yesterday. It brought joy to my soul. And sometimes, that's as good as food.

Commercial: My latest "Love Notes" column for The River Journal will be posted on my website this evening (www.mariannelove.com). It's called "Remembering . . . ."