In my first Spring at my new home, I was treated to many clusters of color, spread throughout my backyard. But last Spring, those colors were hard to find, with only a few sparse clusters making an appearance. Disappointed but undaunted, I calendared an action plan to reinvigorate the Spring show. Come September, my calendar admonished me to get spring bulbs. Shortly after Labor Day, I did.
Piled in my wheelbarrow, along with my gardening gloves and bulb-planter, were spring bulbs, promising crocus, hyacinth and tulips. I could have forgotten them, save for the note in my kitchen that read, “Plant Spring Bulbs.” I thought of it from time to time, but I had the notion that planting the bulbs wouldn’t be a pleasant task. So I found other things to do.
One day in mid October, I wearied of seeing that note telling me to plant spring bulbs. I pulled out the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the first planting site. Making a hole with the bulb planter was a bit challenging, but I managed to push it down two inches. That called for a crocus bulb. (Two inches deep for crocus, four for hyacinth and six for tulips.) After congratulating myself on making the hole, I almost gave up when stymied in opening the packages of bulbs. I stormed into the house.
Resolute, I returned with a pair of scissors and proceeded to plant medleys of the three bulb types. Progress came slowly. The third quarter was the worst. It was tedious: twisting and pushing to make a hole; remembering where and what I already planted; and carefully covering the dirt with fallen leaves, to distract the squirrels. Never mind the complimentary bug bites. By the fourth quarter, I was getting good at it. All told, I planted fifty crocus, fifteen hyacinth and thirty-five tulips. That amounts to one hundred bulbs!
The stage is set. The show opens this Spring.
Show Preview: crocus, tulips, hyacinth.
TATTOO—Journeys on My Mind
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Buy it. Read it. Let me know what you think. —TMLL
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