Winter Hang Over - Spring Is The Cure

Disclaimer: For you northern folks, yes I know you were buried in snow and ice for weeks on end.  However, I live in Houston for many reasons, and this last winter wasn't one of them.  Therefore I will commence with the complaining about nights in the 20's and its affect on me and the homestead.

This is our backyard mascot.  His name is Hang Over.  He was here when we bought this house.  Hang Over had no where else to go.  I couldn't bare the sight of him panhandling on a street corner with a sign like "will talk for margaritas".  I am a rescuer you know.

Hang Over (we call him Ho for short) looks over the pool, listens to Jimmy Buffet, and provides hours of commentary on things he witnesses in our back yard.  Ho looks like how I felt on mornings with temperatures under 45.

Houston is a sub tropical climate.  Emphasis on the "sub".  Once every ten years or so Houston has an actual winter. This is what happens to tropical plants when winter has the nerve to show up.

Normally we have only three seasons in Houston; January, Summer, and August.  This year the tropicals weren't feeling so global warmed.  You are looking at a former canopy of lush tropic vegetation.  It use to hide my weed garden behind it.  I'm worried about these guys making a come back.  I may have to actually pull weeds this year.

That's a cactus and succulent garden doing an impression of a leaf compost pile.  It takes great gardening skill to artistically arrange weeds in a cactus garden.

Not one to take this winter blow lying down, Michelle and I began the winter hang over remedy.

I like to play in the dirt.  So does Cooper and Gus.  Michelle is not such a fan of four legged foot prints.  Two legged ones either for the matter.

Maybe Gus will stay focused on the squirrels in the trees to keep his mind off the fresh dirt he might be tempted dig in.

This is a hungry lawn now all dressed up in two year old leaf mold compost.  There is an organic microscopic dinner party getting started in there somewhere.  I heard it is a black tie event.

A week or so earlier while I lay paralyzed with the flu, Michelle got loose with the pruning shears.

Michelle is dangerous handy with the pruning shears.  That's a rose bush in there somewhere.

Spring truly does bring signs of hope.

That's a butchered well trimmed Hydrangea on the road to recovery.

Our world is finally getting right.  The annual mulching of the flower beds took place yesterday.  Thanks for your help Austin.  My back was still tender from the lawn feeding gala.

I had to take a picture of the freshly mulched beds as they appear now.  Gus, Cooper, and the weed factory will make this a distant memory before too long.  When I'm feeling blue, I can come back to the blog and remind myself of the organic newness of Spring.  And the tiny party happening in the yard.

The smell of fresh mulch is to gardeners as frying bacon is to a hungry foodie.

With daylight savings time returning to restore sanity and light to my evening grill habit, I believe we will have some friends over for a little backyard BBQ today.  Maybe I'll snap a photo or two of the food so you guys will recognize this site as a food blog again.

Can't wait until May.  That's when we have our annual releasing of the lady bugs where we set 2,000 them free at dusk.  Now those gals know how to party.

I've not been able to out grow my deep seeded need to play with dirt, bugs, and food.

Cheers! Scott