Hell's Half Acre

Yes, it's snowing.
Yes, that's early.
Yes, I'm none too thrilled.

Was trying to be kind to a California Gardener this a.m. asking about high altitude gardening. Perhaps I should have just sent him this photo.

Some days I'm not sure what I enjoy more ~ gardening? Or, complaining about my garden.

Question: What's your growing zone?
A: Zones? What zones?
We don't need no freakin' zones!
(Not indoors anyway.)

Such troubles are bound to happen when you evolve into a gardener vs. being one of those rare individuals who had a lifelong plan and followed a logical path to achieve it.

You know the type... they search high and low for perfection before making a commitment. They scan the horizon, authoritatively place hands on hips, and finally proclaim: Now this spot... Right here... this would be ideal for a garden.

As opposed to me. Who spotted a house with lots of sun and a pretty view, saw that my horses could live right down the road and happily announced: Works for me!

Q: Soil conditions?
A:
√ Slow to drain
√ Slow to warm
√ Like concrete in the summertime!
(If that's music to your ears, you're stuck with clay soil, too.)

Which leaves me to wonder... If I lived in a hospitable area where I had nothing to complain about... Whatever would I do to pass the time?

PS: I wanted to to paint you a happier picture, Steve, so, this last photo is for you. During the five, blissful months that we do have summer, it is a glorious summer, indeed.