Normally, I might be planting a few vegetables this time of year, but I dare not. Where I was raised, it was an absolute given that one did not plant until after Good Friday, the Friday before Easter. This year, that will not be until April 19. In 2018, however, Good Friday fell on March 30. I could have been planting crops almost a week ago! Whenever it falls, Good Friday always will be in the early spring. Obviously, it is a convenient marker, a reminder to get off one’s winter duff and get to work. So it is in the deep South. Historically, though, the American South has been an agrarian, pious and not overly matriculated region, and there is a subtle aspect of superstition to this rule of thumb. To this day, I think there’s a vague uneasiness around here that violators are in peril of being, in some manner, smote by the Deity. Myself, I subscribe to this rule with one caveat: if Good Friday comes early, as it did last year, it’s best to wait, but if it comes late, as this year, God will let you slide.
Speaking of Good Friday, do you know how the date for Easter is chosen? You may think you know. I thought I did. It’s the first Sunday after the first full moon that falls on or after the Vernal Equinox, right? Well, it can get a lot more complicated than that. There is something known as “Ecclesiastical Spring,” when the church takes it upon itself to tell us when the first Sunday after the first full moon is. And there’s other stuff, and it’s all right here, in “The Farmer’s Almanac.” I have exhausted myself on this subject. Anyway, it is unimportant to me, for I define “spring fever” more as Arlo.
12 responses to “Strains of the Season”
Living in Central NY is very different then the mountains of Eastern NY where I grew up. Out here people are itching to get seed in the ground by May 1st and then spend a good three to four weeks wondering if it is going to come up. Where I grew up you planted corn later in May and it was up in a week or so. There seems to be a race to be first into the ground with seed and then the seed doesn’t sprout until when it should have been planted anyway. I am looking forward to warmer weather and an end to the cold damp winter we had.
That’s beautiful country, isn’t it? I love NYC, too! It’s a pretty neat state when you think about it.
Why black & white on the blog? Why not in color?
There are a number of reasons. Mainly, a colored version of the older strips you see here simply isn’t available. Where it is, I didn’t color the older strips personally, and some are, let us say, problematic. As time passes and the strips in the newspaper today become old enough to be recycled here, I don’t see why they won’t be in color. Why don’t I go back and color the old ones? I don’t have time.
Them’s mighty good reasons.
My dad was from the St. Louis area but spent his adult life in central Wisconsin which usually meant cold and snowy or rainy at Easter. Every year before Good Friday services he would plant the peas in the garden. If Easter was early that would be all he would plant on Good Friday and save the rest for more hospitable weather. When Easter was late the garden was mostly planted by the end of Good Friday even with the breaking for services.
Ruven, print it and color it, like some of the Sunday activity pages. Think of it as interactive cartooning.
Up here in Michigan, the Indians supposedly planted corn when oak leaves were the size of a squirrel’s ear. I don’t know what species of oak or squirrel.
Up here in Michigan, the Indians supposedly planted corn when oak leaves were the size of a squirrel’s ear. I don’t know what species of oak or squirrel.
When you can squat over black dirt and your bare bumm does not feel cold —
then you can plant.
It will be awhile yet.
Laura & Jimmy. You’re right, both NYS & NYC are.
B&W is fine.
A “subtle aspect” indeed.
Old Bear must have a very private garden.
There are now two eggs in the Great Spirit Bluff nestbox. Hope they stop at 3.
https://explore.org/livecams/birds/peregrine-falcon-cam
Speelczech does not realize nestbox in 1 word. I was probably way off in my earlier idea on peregrine mating timing. First egg showed up long after I saw the tercel breed the falcon. Am guessing he knocks off a piece several times a day over a fortnight or two. Stout fellow. Peace.
My dad was born on a farm, and it never left him. Wherever we lived, he had a huge garden.
For some reason, I never caught his love of gardening, as well as his abilities in math, carpentry, plumbing, and electrical work.
The older I become, the more I realize how limited I am.