"Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't…Uh-Oh"

Headed out to the farm this morning to see how the thaw is coming along and to get an idea of how soon I’ll be able to get out planting.  Right now, I’m guessing may two–two and a half weeks.

As I turned onto University Road, the familiar sign of spring greeted me.  The sign said, “ROAD CLOSED AHEAD.”  It never says how far ahead, but the Vermillion River has to be up to 500-year proportions to flood the first bridge heading north, so I kept going and made it across and up to the farm safely.

Although the river is not seriously flooded this far south, we have a long way to go and a lot of snow yet to melt–not to mention the rain and snow forecast in the coming days.

I’ll likely be getting the first crops seeded right at the tail end of March, which is about par.  It’d worry me if our weather changed so dramatically that I was able to plant on St. Patrick’s day two years in a row.

But I should be able to get out and do some more cleaning and clearing in the middle of this coming week if the weather does what it says it’ll do.  Heck, I might be stripped down to a single layer if it gets into the fifties like projected.

With the recent above-freezing weather, there are various signs of spring in the gardens as well, from a brave (and dirty) little wooly-bear:

To thawed out compost and manure piles:

To green onions just starting to re-emerge after a long, cold, snow-buried winter:

There’s still plenty of snow on the ground to track the comings and goings of the various farm creatures.  Raccoons pretty much run the old house, and their tracks are most prevalent in that area of the farm:

Nearer the main gardens, some critter has been using a hole in the garden shed as ingress and egress, and has created a regular trail back to a pile of grass clippings (with lots of seed attached) dumped beneath a mulberry tree last fall.

Can’t say what critter it might be–maybe our resident woodchuck has woken from his long slumber, or maybe it’s a feral cat I’ve not yet seen around the farm, using the darkness of the shed as a stalking place for mice rooting around for seeds.

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