Remarkable plant growth was revealed last Monday morning, after the previous night’s rain. It was one of those mornings when a person is amazed to be alive.

Where to start . . . I’ve lived on the same property for 50 years. I knew little about gardening. I had grown some vegetables and chickens but flower and shrub horticulture was relatively alien.

My grandparents grew food and my mother canned. Dad hunted and we ate venison, rabbit and squirrel frequently. I do not remember flower beds around the house. Oh sure, there were some nice mountain laurels (the Pennsylvania state flower) and Dad kept up with the lawn. But gardening, per se, was not a family passion.

The Vineyard 50 years ago was a different place. The winters were difficult as no one had money and there was nothing to do. I had a leaf raking job in the fall and brought the leaves and debris home. Eventually it turned into compost and a few volunteer plants came up.

I started reading seed catalogs at night and by spring that year was hooked. The rest is history.

Fast forward and I’m a nutcase. I have seed trays everywhere: perennials, annual flowers and boatloads of vegetable starts.

I finally seeded the tomatoes, peppers and eggplants. They have barely broken ground.

With the exception of spinach, none of the vegetable seedlings are in open ground as yet.

I’ve spent a lifetime learning to accept human limitations. I’ll let you know if I accomplish that lofty goal.

The wintered-over kale is forming flowers. I cut them and make a saute with some garlic greens that emerged from forgotten bulbs last fall.

It’s time to sprinkle a bit of lime. Do avoid tossing any on evergreens, dogwoods, hydrangeas or ferns. They are acid lovers.

My dahlias started from seed are coming right along. I treat them as annuals. They still need frost protection. I’m always hesitant in late April and early May. That full moon freeze will surprise you.

Every year I grow a tomato variety called principe Borghese, an Italian heirloom. They are about the size of a large cherry tomato and have very little juice. They are perfect for drying and are the classic variety used in sun dried.

I cut them in half and in the past (when I had a gas stove with a pilot light) dried them for a few days in that oven. Now, sadly, I need a new method as my new stove has a battery light mechanism. Anyway, the dried tomatoes are stored in small glass jars in the freezer.

After a 24-hour soak in good olive oil they are perfect with garlic and butter on pasta.

On a recent trip up-Island, I saw a couple of large patches of skunk cabbage. I always forget about it until it emerges. I went on the Google and found that its bad smell and taste prevent herbivores from eating it as it is one of the first greens after a long winter. It would be eradicated almost immediately by deer who are sick of eating twigs.

I think Tip O’Neill, former Boston representative in the House and long-serving Speaker of that body, coined the term “all politics is local.”

My friend Marie Larsen is in the running for select board member in Chilmark. She’s helping to educate me on the many issues facing our small towns here on the Island. Can a garden column writer endorse a political candidate? Not that a “no” would stop me.

Speaking of endorsing: Abbe Burt is running in Vineyard Haven to keep the seat she won in a special election last year.

I’ve had an ongoing issue with the town for three years. It’s nothing earth-shattering but a matter of proper permitting, blah blah blah. I mentioned the problem to Abbe, who settled it for me in 24 hours. You go, girl!

Would that our national politics were so simple.

I’m sorry that the Fox “News” and Dominion voting machine case settled without going to trial. I had the popcorn ready and wanted to see the action.

Hopefully the Trump legal woes will not disappoint!