Spring is the best, worst time to move if you are a true dirt gardener.
Perennials and little shrubs prefer to travel then, so transplanting favorite plants is the good part. The bad part is leaving behind soil that's had a five year run of non-stop additions of compost, horse manure and mulch. I'm feeling better since I decided to get proactive and plant every open space with something - anything.
So far, my prettiest legacy will be cornflowers (bachelor buttons) strategically stationed between sprays of lettuce and spinach, with nasturtiums and snap peas next door. It's my way of helping communicate this fact: Once soil becomes as good as it can be, it wants to please us by supporting beautiful, productive plants.
This week I had my last visit with Darlene Cope, my favorite haircutter of all time, and while I was waiting some older women discussed and unanimously agreed that potatoes should always be planted on Good Friday.
Their fathers and uncles had done it that way back in the days when a good garden meant the difference between hunger and plenty, so it's certainly as good as the sign I use - the appearance of Virginia bluebells. These spring ephemerals must emerge early so they can load up on light before the trees leaf out.
I like to run my potatoes early (my favorite fingerlings break dormancy in March), so I let the bluebells remind me that it's time to get those spuds in the ground.
