It’s my fault. I admit it. I changed my car tires over from winters to summers last week. And that’s why we got whacked by a snow storm on Monday night. I tempted fate – figuring that mid-April wasn’t too early to switch over – and I caused all this rotten winter weather three weeks into spring. Mind you, I did hear Ed Lawrence say on the radio this week that if one wants to be brave planting some hardy trees and bushes early, it’s OK.
“Go for it,” said Lawrence, the former Globe and Mail columnist and chief horticulturist to six governors-general and seven prime ministers. And he was speaking on CBC Radio’s Radio Noon program just as winds and sleet were blowing past both his Almonte, Ont., home and mine here in Uxbridge. As usual, on the air, Lawrence was talking to avid gardeners – complaining about rabbits eating their new-growth rosebuds, revelling in compost, and querying him about how to plant a giant pumpkin seed. Anyway, Canada’s voice of spring sometimes gets it wrong too. Not just me.
I mean I started with the best of plans this past week – not just the tire changeover – when I couldn’t stand the cabin fever any longer, grabbed my lawn rake, some yard-waste bags and headed out the back door to challenge the elements. And by elements I mean temperatures just above zero Celsius – not exactly gardening weather.
But I had (I thought) a unique strategy, you see. I got my fire permit in the New Year. And I figured I’d bag some of the decomposing leaves, grass and dead garden stuff, but I’d also burn some of it in my mini-firepit. I burned just enough of what I’d raked to keep the fire at a steady burn, so that I from time to time I could warm my hands against the cold. It worked really well until I realized some of my smoke was drifting into neighbours’ yards interfering with their outdoor Easter activities.
My next banish-the-winter tactic, I figured, was foolproof. “Hey, let’s get the family together in our backyard on Easter Monday,” I suggested to our daughters, “Let’s set up the slack line and all the accessories.”
They agreed and by mid-morning on Monday, our daughters and all six of their kids had arrived. Like the weekend, it was not very warm. In fact, several of the grandkids complained about how cold it was. I peeled off my jacket to work in shirt sleeves just to make the point about leaving video games and cellphones behind in favour of playing outdoors.
And so, we began installing the slack line and all its doodads – rope ladder, swing, and assorted hanging handgrips. But wouldn’t you know it? The moment I brought out the extension ladder to install the highest anchoring device around a tree, the winds whipped up and everything began swaying – trees, rigging, ladder and me!
“Press on,” I thought. “Don’t let them see you sweat with any sign of motion sickness or your acrophobia.” I felt like a windjammer sailor – one hand on the rigging and the other holding onto the mast for dear life. Ultimately, we got all the ropes and accessories into place.
And the kids jumped all over them, just like it was the middle of summer. So, at least part of my plan had worked. They’d left the world-wide-web at least temporarily for the great outdoors, even if it was still just a few degrees above freezing,
I was beginning to think maybe I’d misread the calendar – maybe it was December and not April. Maybe I shouldn’t tempt fate and wait, like all experienced gardeners, until the Victoria Day weekend before I officially launched outdoor life. Then, I saw a couple of guys shuffling down our wind-blown street. They were wearing shorts and flipflops.
“You’re the cause of all this April winter,” I called out to them.
“It’s sprinter,” one of them said. “You know, not yet spring, but still partly winter.”
Eventually, I retreated inside away from the “sprinter” weather. Then it hit me. I really am to blame for this mixed up season. There on the floor lay my hockey skates, stick, helmet, gloves and pads – all from last week’s near season-ending hockey scrimmage. And I began stowing the gear into my hockey bag. But not because hockey season is over. On the contrary. This was also the week that summer hockey begins and I had to get ready to launch that seasonal favourite recreation of mine.
Like Ed Lawrence and his eager springtime gardeners, I’m just going to go for it, no matter what the calendar says.
