Monday, November 23, 2009

Come Again




I took this nice weather morning to plant these bulbs that I received, wow, over a month ago. All from Scheepers. In the back, Crocus tommasinanius and Crocus T. 'Lilac Beauty'. Twenty five for $4.75, I think that's a great price for the small pleasures of late winter. Scheepers' website mentions that squirrels don't eat these. Of course, I've had more trouble with my own shovel destroying the crocus, but I think I found evidence of the anti-squirrel qualities of these. I planted them in soil around the stepping stones in the side yard. The next day I went out and saw that the soil was spread all over the stones and what did I see, but one crocus bulb sitting on top, un-gnawed. I think sir squirrel moved on to other more tempting treats.

The front two are species lilies, 'Citronella' and 'Davidii', 5 bulbs each for $9.75 and honestly, I wish I could have given two of each away -no room! The white bulbs on the left are onion, Allium atropurpureum. I really don't like those giant globe allium, so I go for the varieties that have more open habits or the humble umbel forms.


I was planting the bulbs, moving iris and other perennials for the side yard flower garden, come vegetable garden, come again flower garden. Since that corner is kind of messy with the cat feeding and bottle depositing and otherwise garbage-y quality, not to mention the telephone poles that come and go, I put some max sunflowers in the corner to go with the mess. Today, when I am doing this other work, a neighbor says hello and then says 'finally cutting back those flowers, eh.' To which I respond, 'do you not like them?' And so on from there...

I will never cut down a flower in bloom. Just won't, unless, of course, it's for the vase. I certainly wasn't doing what my friendly neighbor was suggesting, and certainly not in November when every day with blooms is an anchorage to warm and temperate times. But I get it, neighbors want plants to stay within their frames- behind the fence, WHAP!! cracks the whip. So I bend, cranking back the poor stems of Helianthus maximilianii with a twine contraption, forcing them into the shade of the Yew tree they so desperately reach from to catch the last bits of low sun, their penchant tropism. Oh ye heliotrope, bend not to your need and will, but to the wants of your animal neighbors! Such as it is, such as it is.

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