My sister was complaining about how messy her backyard looked. She has very high standards for neatness and is married to a buyer for a garden center known for its unusual plants. Not surprisingly, my brother in-law brings much of his work home with him. The garden he created is filled with really cool plants. It’s also, on any given day of the year, dotted with pots holding plants in various stages of life that he hasn’t had the time or place to plant. Still, from a gardener’s standpoint, it looks just fine.

In an attempt to one-up my sister on the mess our gardens are in, I told her mine had been hosting plastic milk crates that served to protect plants from hungry deer. “And I’ve got these little bags over my hydrangea stems,” I told her. “You know, those little netting bags you put nuts in at bridal showers… I guess you could call them nut sacks.”

“What!!??” she said. She was trying to get in a power walk in the 10 minutes she had left of her lunch hour while talking to me on her cell. I think I must have faded out for a vital second or two.

“Those bags with the little drawstrings,” I said. “You could put M&Ms in them, too.” I had a package of the small white bags for some reason and decided to use them to prevent the flower buds formed last fall from freezing so I’d have blooms this year. I’m not sure how successful they’ve been as frost deterrents, but the deer have left the stems wearing the bags totally alone.

Those frilly party dress wannabes weren’t that visually offensive with snow on the ground, but now they look pretty silly. I’m going to be cautious about their removal though. It will have to wait until the deer have other snack choices in their personal deer buffet that doubles as my garden.

Not only is caution my motto this spring, it seems to be the battle cry of some supposedly hardy bulbs. Even the crocuses refuse to commit. Come to think of it, the only crocuses I’ve seen in bloom (and we’re talking St. Paddy’s Day here) are on the south side of a neighbor’s house in full sun. I mean, come on! In the old days, your predecessors bloomed through the snow in February for crying out loud!

I guess it goes to show, you baby one plant in the garden and all of the others want the same mollycoddling.

—Jean Starr