Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potatoes’ dark green leaves, out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards. – Walt Whitman

The Planets of May

Venus lies in Pisces this month; rising after midnight as the huge Morning Star in the east, accompanied by Saturn, before dawn. Jupiter is in Taurus, the Evening Star is visible in the far west at sundown. Mars is the red planet of these evenings, following Jupiter in Cancer.

The Moon of May

May 12: Full Moon

May 20: Last Quarter

May 27: New Moon

Weather Trends

This week, the chances of clear to partly cloudy skies jump from the 55 percent of the last three days all the way to 90 percent.

That makes May 14 one of the two sunniest days in the month. With all the blue sky, chances of 80s are 15 percent, of 70s 40 percent, and of 60s 25 percent, leaving only 15 percent for cooler 50s and 5 percent for 40s.

And from today forward, the chances of a day above 70 degrees are better than 50/50 for the first time since the year began.

Thunderstorms often occur with the increasing likelihood of heat. Despite the fact that the skies are rarely totally overcast, showers pass through on this date one year in three.

Frostwatch

Between May 1 and June 1, only a few mornings of light frost occur in Ohio. Chances of freezing temperatures after the dates listed below are:

May 10: 25 percent

May 15: 15 percent

Natural Calendar

When apple blossoms fall, then the first sweet rocket, fleabane, sweet Cicely, daisy, fire pink, common plantain, white clover, chamomile, black medic, star of Bethlehem, lily-of-the-valley, sweet William, meadow goat’s beard, May apple, and wood sorrel almost always open. The woods are filled with garlic mustard, green and white among the still bare trees. It’s the best time of all for blue forget-me-not, golden ragwort, water cress, wild geranium, miterwort, swamp buttercup, late toad trillium, late trillium grandiflorum, late winter cress, white spring cress and the wild purple phlox.

Mock orange and strawberries come into full bloom when the last crabapple petals are gone. A few early poppies and peonies unravel then. Early iris and lupines are budding. Astilbe and clematis have formed flower heads. Summer hostas are eight to 10 inches tall. Ferns, daylilies, comfrey, summer phlox have reached almost 2 feet. In the parks, the paths are thick with violets.

Mayflies are out along the water. Bullfrogs call. Minnows and chubs are flushed red for their mating season. Flea time begins for pets, a sign that insect activity is nearing the economic threshold on the farm. Spitbugs grow in the shelter of swamp

parsnips, announcing that the first cut of hay will soon be underway. The first small groups of monarch butterflies that left Texas in February cross the Ohio River. Flies become pesky in the mild afternoons.

Journal

From this space in the year, you can travel to the whole range of early, middle and late spring. For just a few days, all those seasons lie out totally accessible to anyone who will go to see them. You travel to the Canadian border now, you will find the ice has broken up on the lakes. The first cottonwoods are budding there. The first crocus, the first daffodil and tulip foliage is pushing out of the ground.

So far north, it is still the first weeks of earliest spring. Gaining on spring at the rate of approximately one day for every 30 miles south, you will see the grass showing color and by Minneapolis, it’s the first of April. A few daffodils are in bloom, and forsythia is out and willows glow. Through Pennsylvania, down to West Virginia, the tree line comes alive with golds and pale greens. Approaching the Border States the intensity of coloration grows with each mile, all the winter branches filling in.

Below the Ohio River, late May’s clover time comes into flower, first the white, then pink, then the tall, sweet clovers into South Carolina. The canopy closes in and loses its early brilliance by the time you pass into southern Georgia. In Mobile, Ala., the leaves are full size. Mulleins and thistles and lilies are open, and you know for sure you’ve seen all of spring, well a little bit of all of it.

Almanack Literature

In Defense of Dodging Work

Tips from an Experienced Procrastinator

By Sara B.  Conway

Been practicing nigh onto 68 years. When I was a wee young-un, Mama would say, “When you’re through playing with your toys, pick up and put them away neatly.”

Soon’s I was done, I’d scoop ‘em up and toss them into a heap under the bed when she wasn’t lookin’.

We were given farm chores to do soon’s we got big enough.  Mine was to gather eggs from the henhouse and not dally about it. But when I’d get amongst the cacklin’ old biddies, the devil would get into me.

I’d learned how to put a chicken to sleep by tuckin’ its silly head under a wing, then swingin’ it ‘round and ‘round. Sure did something to ‘em, ‘cause when I’d set ‘em down, they’d stay put for the longest time.

It was fun to see how many I could get settin’ in a row at a time. ‘Course this ruckus got an egg or two busted, and I’d have to carefully do away with the evidence.

When I’d get the egg basket to the house, Mama would ask what took me so long, and I’d say something like, “Aw, that dang, fool, old, speckled dominecker hid her nest out in the chicken yard again. Like to of never found it!”

When our corn got ‘bout tall as I was, Daddy would send me to the field with my sack of seed beans and a hoe. I was supposed to plant the whole sack of seeds, hoeing in three or four seeds around each stalk of corn, so’s they’d have something to grow on.

Mid-morning, that sun would get hot, the corn leaves would itch my skin something fierce, and the rows of corn would seem longer and longer. Besides, there was a pond nearby, water just right for a coolin’ swim.

After planting for hours one day, the bean sack seemed ‘bout as full as it was when I started, and I decided I’d done planted enough beans to feed several counties, so I’d just up and get rid of the rest.

At the end of a row, I spied me a humongous big flat rock. With the hoe handle I pried it ‘bout halfway up and dumped the sack under, scooping some soil over so’s not to leave any telltale sign.

I’d have got by with this, too, if about two weeks later Daddy hadn’t decided to check out the crop, and happened to stroll by the rock. Laws a’mercy! About a hundred or so of them beans had sprouted out from under that rock and was agrowin’ all over it.

Got me a good bottom tannin’ then, I’m here to tell you.

Mama hoped when I’d got older some of my orneriness would wear off, but even after I’d married Henry, I’d still have days when I’d goof off.

Especially when I was readin’ a novel so sizzlin’ I just couldn’t put it down. Then suppertime would slip up on me. It would be time for Henry to come in hollerin’, “What’s cookin’?” and by heck, I wouldn’t have the foggiest notion what supper was gonna be.

I eventually learned a good trick to stay out of trouble. I’d take me a big old apron, stuff its pocks full of cleanin’ articles, and keep it handy. I’d plug in the vacuum and let it stand at the ready.

Say suddenly I heard Henry at the front door, I’d quick-like don my apron, turn on the vacuum and go to the head of the stairs and call down hurriedly, “Be right down, hon, soon’s I finish up here.”

Then with the trusty old vacuum hummin’ busily, I’d quick-like smooth the bed covers and fluff up the pillows I’d been lollin’ on all afternoon. Then I’d hurry down to rattle them pots and pans to fix a slightly late supper.

Dear Henry never caught on, or, I don’t think he did, ‘cause I often heard him braggin’ about the workin’ old lady he was hitched up with.

It’s my theory everybody should have days when he just forgets the humdrum daily rituals and lets it all hang out. One thing for sure, the things we leave undone won’t go away. They will be right there waiting for us when we do come out of it.