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Not the Only Neurotic In Quebec
Each day as I inspect my slowly widening patch of earth on the south side of my house I take a few minutes to poke at the piled snow and move some of it to the exposed lawn so that it will melt a bit faster. Since I moved here from Arizona I felt this action was purely a personal thing and a reflection of my own frustration with the long Quebec winter that is only recently showing signs of warming up. Yep, I felt neurotic and kept my odd snow fighting tendencies restricted to the relative seclusion of the back yard. No need to alarm the neighbors you know.
As I walked Max, my blonde lab, this morning I met three other individuals doing the very same thing in full view of their friends and neighbors. I struck up conversations with each person and as luck would have it two did actually speak English so we could mutually complain about the snow and share gardening secrets planned for the summer. We laughed at our impatient green thumbs while cautiously casting nervous glances over our shoulders for the guys in the white suits wanting to take us to a new home with the nice padded walls.
I brought to the attention of one home owner the potential cornucopia of spring greens scattered among the bare patches of their snow laden yard. Dandelions are making an appearance and after establishing that yes, organic yard care was the practice, I explained how to use and cook dandelions to their full potential. (Dandelions are one of my personal favorite spring edibles offering up so many options a whole meal can be based on the plant.)
Upon returning home I took time to closely inspect my own yard. I do have crocuses on the west side of the house. Not a particularly good spot because my huge maple tree hides the better part of the sun from reaching this area but there is a slow melting process going on. I had bought these crocus bulbs in a sale rack late the fall of 1999 and the spring of 2000 only brought leaf growth. To my pleasure I noticed today these small, delicate plants are sending up blooms for the first time.
My green and red sage plants still have the clinging leaves of last year and I pluck a few off to crumble and sniff. The odor is heady and as strong as it was last fall when I bid my friends goodnight for the winter. New growth is tiny but apparent so even without mulching "my babies" made it through the season just fine.
Daylilies are about 5 inches tall now and unaware of my desire to move them to the north side of the house as soon as the snow melts enough there to work the ground. When this rearrangement takes place the firm, crisp tubers of each plant will be harvested, washed and sliced fresh to be added to tossed salads. The flavor and texture of daylily tubers reminds me a bit of water chestnuts and while you can cook and use them in the same way as potatoes my personal preference has always been to use them fresh. (Use only firm tubers if you want to try this yourself and remember that harvesting the tubers in no way harms the plant.)
Cleome, lamb's ears, comfrey, irises, horseradish, chives, garlic chives, echinacea, mullein, yarrow and hen-and-chicks are also well on their way to establishing their place among the gardens. My first coltsfoot bloom was spotted yesterday but my inspection of the plant in question this morning revealed the tell tale paw prints of my 7 toed cat and the mauled remains of one sourly chewed bloom. My cat can have his snack for many more coltsfoot blooms are around and I have a mind to harvest and try the bloom sprouts this year as an asparagus substitute. (This has long been something I knew about but something I have yet to try myself.)
There are many other plants shaking off their winter sleep and staking their claim this spring. To many to mention by name but none I am not thrilled to see again. I would wish each of you a wondrous spring full of new discoveries and re-established relationships with old friends from the green nations as we dive head long into the new season.
Melana Hiatt