I put down a cup or two of alfalfa pellets just after I finish pruning in mid-April. I don't know if earlier or later application would give better results but I do know this works fine with me. Here in mid-Michigan, we tend to get long, cold, but not too cold, spring weather and I almost never see frost damage to new growth. All the winter damage that I'm likely to see has already happened, probably back in early February.

Just give it a couple of weeks and you'll see that it was a really good thing! I didn't feel like making the tea right now, so I just sprinkled some alfalfa around each bush and then worked it into the soil. As soon as I let my dog out she was digging in the soil. They love that stuff. Laurie

I would continue with the liquid fish on the bands through this season. Rose-tone should be OK for the bareroots now, apply it after they bloom. I'm only using liquid ferts (fish or stuff that smells like fish or seaweed) on my new own roots this year.

The other saying is, "could be your upper lip" my GF used to say that and I would get so upset, hehehehe I'm glad you got your lawn fertilized Lindseyrose Hehehe, PJ, Haven't heard that forever, lol The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities -- one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist -- their parents took them to a psychiatrist. First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. "What's the matter?" the psychiatrist asked, baffled. "Don't you want to play with any of the toys?" "Yes," the little boy bawled, "but if I did I'd only break them." Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands. "What do you think you're doing?" the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. "With all this manure," the little boy replied, beaming, "there must be a pony in here somewhere!"