I love flowers and gardens, but I hate planting flowers and gardening. You would hate it, too, if digging a four-inch hole meant using a pick ax. Oh, where is my Robin to do my digging in Georgia.
Well, anyway, my mom gave me tons of bulbs last year, and I planted about a half-gazillion in the backyard. I was told bulbs were easy. Just put them in the ground and they will come up. But they didn't come up. I am a horrible gardener.
This spring I found the other half-gazillion bulbs in my garage, sprouting. Please explain to me why the bulbs I lovely and carefully put into soil are duds, but the ones that I left on my shelf were living and growing. The bald truth is I am a horrible gardener.
I decided to give these dear bulbs a fighting chance, and I planted some, and Mark planted some others. Well, all the ones I planted are now dead (did I mention that I am a horrible gardener?), but the ones that Mark planted are growing and there is even a purple flower on one of them!
In other news, the baby house finches have hatched. They are fuzzy and cute. I never took down one of the ferns from my porch last winter, and the house finches decided it would make a perfect nesting spot. I'll have a dead fern on my porch this entire summer, but hey, at least I don't have to worry about drowning baby birds!
2 comments:
Hahahaha! I'm sorry, but that was too funny. ;)
Hahahahahahaha! Yes, it's called the black thumb. I have it too. But good for you for trying, at least. I'm officially done with gardening. Having no back yard helps me with that, though! :) SSS
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