In which there are early signs of Spring, and none of that nasty white stuff

Much of the northern hemisphere is covered in sn*w.

I read the blogs of friends in Texas, Maine, and elsewhere in the States, who are knee-deep in the white stuff, plus of course poor Lytha in Germany who is at least hip-deep in it.

Here in the Swamplands, it's hardly winter at all anymore. I even took the mares' blankets off one afternoon so they could enjoy the feeling of light (if not sunshine) on their skin.

The chickens think that a wheelbarrow-load of yukky hay is playground equipment. Within moments of entering the Winter Palace Garden, I was surrounded by hens eager to pull this clump of stuff apart. They didn't even wait for me to dump it out first--they just jumped on the wheelbarrow, ready for fun.

You know Spring is coming when....

rhubarb!

... and, uh, time to prune the grape vines before they join forces with the blackberry vines to take over the world.

Better now.

It's so counter-intuitive to make a plant smaller so that it can produce more fruit, but apparently that's how grape vines work. Apple trees work that way, too, but ours were neglected so long by the former owners of our place that Jim took the chainsaw up into the orchard to start the pruning up there!

Not exactly blue sky. In February we only have a few options for weather, and "not raining" is one of our favorites, so we headed out to the trails for a little while.

See? No sn*w here. Lotsa mud, though. Ewww.

At least we didn't lose any boots in this glop.

The trails are still wet at the top of the hill, but not quite so gooey. And some of the trees up here are starting to bud out!

You know, we just might survive this winter!