Signs of summer beginning to appear

One of Gracie’s friends left her a present the other day. Gracie is our calico cat who never goes outside. Nevertheless, she has many friends who stroll through the yard and entice her to sprint from window to window just so they can visit.
It must have been one of them who left the dead mole on the patio. I hope they didn’t expect me to give it to Gracie. I tried leaving it there so the giver could retrieve it at a later date. I don’t wear shoes at home and after I stepped on it for the second time, I relocated it to the flower bed to return to the earth from whence it came. There is something disconcerting about a fuzzy dead body under my bare feet. Even though I am grateful that the mole is no longer digging tunnels in the yard, I do hope the giver doesn’t leave another one in my path.
The mole was one of many discoveries I made this week. Since the weather has been so nice I hauled all the houseplants outside. I found that I hadn’t watered some of them as much as I thought. Their pale leaves were puckered. I have faith that the recent rains will help.
I have been repotting all the ones that outgrew their homes. As usual, I thought I had more containers and fewer plants than I really do. I may not have watered as much as I should, but they multiplied anyway. The resilience of life always surprises me.
I also discovered that our rain barrel works. Thank goodness for the overflow fitting. I still remember snippets of a childhood ditty, “Look down my rain barrel, slide down my cellar door, and we’ll be real good friends for ever more ...” When I looked up the lyrics, several websites insisted the proper lyrics were, “we’ll be jolly friends ...”  Personally, I like my version better.
In addition to relocating houseplants, I have half of the garden planted. This is the earliest I have ever planted. I usually wait until after Mother’s Day. I checked the weather forecast and guessed that the cold weather was history. I hope to have the rest of the vegetables planted by the time you read this.
It will be several more weeks before the overwhelming urge to buy more flowers and bedding plants recedes. I love having dirt under my fingernails. Tucking impatiens, geraniums and whatever else I buy into warm soil rejuvenates my soul. I get a kick out of hearing young children exclaim when they discover a pretty blossom next to the sidewalk.
I have yet to begin the never-ending task of weeding. Mother Nature and I have vastly different ideas as to what should grow where. She likes teasels, thistles, goldenrod and dandelions. I like lilies, daisies, and peonies. She likes mulberries. I prefer anything but mulberries. Most days she wins, but I keep trying to convince her that my choices are prettier. She laughs in my face.
Summer may not be here officially, but it is peeking around the corner. My granddaughter, Emma, has told me that the blackberries in Texas are ripe. They tried making paint out of them but only succeeded in making juice. Their mother made a pie out of the surviving fruit.
I prefer raspberries to blackberries. The berries we have are just beginning to bloom. If Emma lived closer, she could try to make raspberry paint in a couple of months. I doubt if she would have any  luck but she would have fun trying.
Dead moles, rain barrels, gardens and blackberry pie are all indications that winter is really, truly over. Life-giving rain followed by abundant sunshine and warmth are predicted for the near future. Soon it will be time to pick the first succulent fruits and vegetables. But for now, I have weeding and planting to do. And moles to avoid.