April Showers Bring May Flowers, Weeds & Snakes!

April showers bring weeds and May flowers here in the Mitten State and…. snakes.

April showers bring May snakes, y’all!

Almost 13 years in our historic neighborhood without a single sighting…

I’ve now been terrorized twice by these slithery rascals already at the new house.

May Flowers…and More

I was weeding…trying to plant a few hearty Jack Frost pansies to give the yard a little color until it warms up enough to plant… add some garden art here and there.

Admiring the tulips, crocus, daffodils and hyacinths I planted last fall.

Singing away and minding my own business…

Ugh…. I just can’t handle snakes. Give me a mouse. A spider. Even a bee. But never, ever a snake.

When I told my cousin who lives nearby about it, she was pretty nonchalant.

Her husband is the gardener in their family and he keeps a shovel or a hoe with him when he’s gardening, she said, “because they are usually just garden snakes and not really the dangerous snakes that often.”

Wait…. That often?? Seriously. Are we talking cobras? copperheads? What??

It made me flash back to the hundreds of hours I spent gardening with my grandparents. They were born and raised in Kentucky…where the southern part of my “Roots” stem from.

My grandma had what seemed like miles of flowers in a cutting garden, while my grandfather handled the vegetables. About an acre of them single-highhandedly.

What they both could do was work a hoe when snakes surprised us in the garden, on the porch, in the detached garage… or anyplace in between.

They had snakes that could kill you around them… it was seriously like a mine field after it rained.

So as kids, they learned to slice and dice a snake faster than my little coffee grinder can crush my favorite toasted hazelnut beans. It ain’t for the faint of heart…or stomach.

They were proud of their bluegrass roots… And so am I.

This is a week I always looked forward to sharing with my grandparents.

Yep! it’s Derby time!

A two-week festival when every hotel, restaurant and road from Lexington to Louisville is packed with excitement.

While most of us girls oohed and aahed over shiny-coated horses, designer dresses, phenomenal hats and those pretty little mint juleps, my grandpa loved the details behind the derby.

And the Kentucky Derby is quite a production…

Talking Derby with My Grandpa

Wondering how much bourbon flows during those two weeks?

My grandpa would know along with how much ice it would take to turn it in to mint juleps.

How many extra state troopers were being brought in to handle the crowds during the two week derby festival?

He could tell you. Along with how much it was going to cost.

How the private airports were handling the extra traffic (and parking!) for all those private jets?

Yep, he would fill you in on that too.

So while I’m digging in the dirt, wearing my knee high Hunter boots and elbow length gloves just in case I’m surprised by a a slinky visitor, I’ll be humming My Old Kentucky Home…

And hoping my southern Angels are enjoying the Derby festivities…and my (hopefully) improving yard and garden… from their box seats in the clouds.