Sow There!

Finally, finally, finally. Things are really waking up. Funny that I need some clue from nature to take the plastic off my windows, find out which spring skirts still fit and start thinking about that long-awaited, extended weekend get-away.
About half my tulips have bloomed and the wallflower is awake. The lavender is starting to make buds and I know soon the bees will be buzzing all over it.

Judging from the fresh gopher mounds in my yard, it’s breeding season. The squirrels have also been at it. My neighbor Curious George recently found a wee squirrel who must have fallen out of the tree. Alas, it died.
As previously mentioned, many seeds have been planted in peat pots in my window sill.

Being human is often funny. I’ve been somewhat feverish about my indoor planting. It’s fun to plant a few every few days, mark the date of planting and put them in the safest sunny space.
But like a lot of things — such as shoes, cast-offs that need to be taken to a thrift store and gopher holes — little by little things start to add up.
If I was an outsider and walked into my living room right now, I’d think the person who lived there was, um, a little obsessed.

I console myself by thinking of the joy I will bring to my neighbor Bob and my mother in a few weeks when I deliver my extra tomato plants like a spring-time Santa Claus.
Luckily, I started so early on this planting frenzy that it’s time to start shifting some of the seedling tonnage onto the front porch and into sheltered spots in the yard.
Also, I’ve resorted to following some recent advice and started planting seeds outdoors in used two-liter bottles. If I keep up this pace, soon my yard will look like Fair Street Recycling Center.

E&I validation
Almost since the conception of this column (in May 1999, can you believe it?) I’ve been vituperating about invasive plants.
Recently we heard about Bermuda grass and how the seemingly lovely plant is a menace to many unsuspecting turf-builders.
Similar is the English Ivy that even goats refuse to deal with.

If you go to lower Bidwell Park right now, you’ll see some beautiful Vinca Major (www.cal-ipc.org/ip/management/ipcw/pages/detailreport.cfm@usernumber=88&surveynumber=182.php).
Also known as periwinkle, it’s a great plant for gardens, and happens to bloom in my favorite color, but multiple sources will tell you that it pretty much bullies out other plant life.
The thing about evil and invasive plants is that they lure you into planting them because of the same traits that make them a problem.

Scotch broom, for example, looks lovely when you’re driving across the mountains to the coast. The steep hillsides next to winding roads look sunny when sprinkled with yellow. But woe to all those other plants that dare to try to grow.
Sadly, the news about these plants is slow to reach the mainstream, and some of them are shockingly still sold and allowed to grow right in your neighborhood.

Help spread the word
I received a press release this week from the Plant Right people — www.plantright.org — who have put together a Web site with lists of plants that are slyly trying to take over the planet.
It’s not the plants’ fault, of course. But if you had the ebola virus blooming in a pot on your window sill, would you think, “Oh, I can keep it contained.”
The Plant Right folks have listed the most invasive plants by region in the state. Note that some of these plants, including arundo, Russian olive and blue gum eucalyptus, are listed as problems in all regions.
Others on the Central Valley list include: Most brooms, including Scotch, French and Spanish, pampas grass, saltcedar (Tamarix ramosissoma) and scarlet wisteria.
If they asked me, I’d have added a few of my least-favorites to the list, including wild onion. The first spring after I moved to my house there was a lovely display of wild onion with lily-ish flowers that perked up early in the season.

I didn’t want to destroy them. I merely wanted to make room for other plants in my yard.
That first year I took a lot of effort and transplanted them to a back portion of my yard, where I would not find time to cultivate for several years.
Over time, I realized this was a mistake. This plant propagates through underground bulblets, as well as flowers that plop over, planting a hard seed into the soil.
Now, when I drive around town, I can see people who have their entire yard consumed by these plants. They’re very pretty, for about two weeks in March.
Then they start a slow decline resulting in a matted mass of yellowed leaves where other, more desirable plants can’t grow.