All the spent foliage has been removed from the perennial beds and now I can see weeds. Grass mostly, our most invasive weed as I fondly refer to it. And abandoned tennis balls. The soil is nice and moist and the weeding is not much of a chore, everything is pulling out with ease. Now would be an excellent time to start on your dandelions.

Paris loved dandelion roots more than steak. Or so I like to think. She ate every one I threw her way, and if I didn't throw she would start insisting. Loudly.

I have decided to eliminate the nursery bed in the vegetable garden. This is one three-foot-by-three-foot bed that I have devoted to plants that I was just thinking about, not yet sure where they fit into my scheme. A random scheme but a scheme nonetheless. Or perhaps a plant that someone graced me with and I had no idea what to do with it, and probably didn't want in the first place but a rare case of politeness struck me and I took it and stuck it in the nursery bed.

I'd rather use the space for spinach.

The raised beds are thawed and ready to roll, they are just waiting for me to stop weeping and get planting. Spinach loves to be planted early and this is early. Why not? Even if we get a freeze with the full moon on Friday a seed planted in the ground will not be affected.

After last summer's dismal growing season I am not taking any chances. I am reverting to growing practices that I used when living at Mile 15 East End Road, elevation 1,466 feet. I am starting unlikely plants in the greenhouse. Peas and onion sets to be precise.

After soaking the peas in a saucer I planted some directly into the raised bed and some I planted into individual cells. Same with the flowering sweet peas, some went into the flower box where one year and one year only they were glorious and some are residing in a four pack. I am covering my bases.

If you prepared your raised beds last fall, and can now work the top two inches or so of soil you are good to go with planting any seeds you want. For me this will be spinach, pea, chard, radish, lettuce and carrot. I even planted a few onion sets although the chance of them rotting from cold and wet is good, I just couldn't resist.

The seedlings that are in the greenhouse will remain there until I am sure the weather has settled. Just because we don't have any snow does not mean it is warm enough to set out seedlings.

They are all in containers that are large enough to keep them comfortable until the first of June if necessary. Rather safe than sorry.

The greenhouse is looking rather spectacular. I felt confidant enough to give away my extra tomato plants. I usually keep a couple of each kind just in case I have a crop failure. I can't imagine a summer without Paris AND no Brandywines. Too much.

Even the cucumbers are looking excellent. Sometimes they stumble at the first go round and need to be replanted; not this time -- they made it gracefully.

Mount Redoubt's ash has given us gardeners the gift of time. It only happens when we get ashed. The snow goes fast, then there is time to move along in the garden at a reasonable pace. Not everything-needs-to-be-done-in-three-days mode. Yes, the perennial beds are cleaned up. But now I can go plant a bed of spinach, or weed the blueberries, or cultivate raised beds, or clean the raspberries. I can take a look at what is going on out here and pick and choose which chore will be addressed next. This is a rare occurrence in Far North gardening -- ease.

The buds on all the lilacs are looking fat. There is a green haze on the Siberian larches. Tiny leaves are working their way into my heart on the Amur chokecherry. Even so, with all this promise, here lies a lonely garden without "John's dog."

Rosemary Fitzpatrick has been gardening with gusto in Homer for 30 years. This year marks the 19th anniversary of her column.