Yesterday afternoon I was offered some bulbs for free, but I had to pass. I had a deadline for my next book to-be today, and I have a much bigger one in two weeks. When would I have time to plant bulbs? Never-mind the fact that it is already December and the top crust of the soil is already a little bit frozen.
Adding to these excuses is the fact that I have not had a chance to make plans for the space. Chances are good that I will have to dig up anything we put in. Oh, and have I mentioned that our yard slopes significantly? Once we dig the whole thing up in the spring, we will also have to shift the soil around in an attempt to level it out a bit. Raised beds might be in order to make up for the steepest slopes.
I told Davin about the bulbs and that I was going to have to turn them down. He was disappointed. I had introduced the prospect of spring flowers to enjoy 3 or 4 months from now, and he couldn’t let the dream go.
Thirty minutes later I found myself pressing the “ORDER” button on $88 dollars worth of assorted spring bulbs with the promise that he will do most of the planting. Planting that will probably happen while snow is falling from the sky.
A few of those bulbs were daffodils. Not the daffodils in these pictures, but still daffodils. Pretty little daffodils. I don’t know who I am sometimes anymore. Not in a bad way. But more in a “I could not have predicted this, kind of way. I’ve become a person who likes begonias. And daffodils.Leave a comment