I have a love/hate relationship with tulips.
I love them, they are so damn cheery and chipper.
I hate them, them are so freaking fickle.
A few years ago I planted a few hundred in a garden bed in the backyard. A mixture of pinks, reds and yellows grew to be a red, purple and stripey bed. And I forgave them, in all of their mis-matched glory I still loved those tulips.
Now, a few years have past and what do we have?
Where'd all my tulips go?
Kansas ate 'em. That's what happened. The state was all nom nom nom, taste-y tulips.
You have a better explanation?
I've officially given up on them this year and told Aaron it was time to do something else with that bed.
The trellis full of honeysuckle will obviously stay (y'all, I had to IM a coworker to be all "what's the word for a metal thing you put in the garden to support climbing plants? 'cause I'm pregnant and can't think straight") as will the hydrangea in front of it. The daylilies desperately need to be divided but will stay in the same area as well.
Past that, the only two plants in there are a miniature rose bush that needs to be dug up and have surgery preformed on it and some dying bushy thing that doesn't get enough sun.
Initially, before finding out was pregnant, my thought was to dig out the daylilies and bushes and roto-till the holy living baloneys out of the bed. Then plant a bunch of flowers.
But now, now I drop something on the ground I spend a few minutes analyzing if it needs to be picked up right away or if can wait for Aaron or the boys to be home, so someone else can pick up for me. Guess what usually happens.
There's a family story from Aaron's childhood, he was about 10 years old and asked his mom if he could dig a hole in the backyard.
"Mom? Could I dig a hole in he backyard?"
"It's gonna be big."
"Okay, have fun."
"No mom, it's gonna be a big hole."
"That's fine, Aaron. Go have fun."
As the story goes, he spent all day outside digging this hole. By the time he was done, his head was below ground level, plus all the dirt was built up a good two or three feet above the ground 'cause the boy didn't move the dirt and he shoveled. A ladder was required to get him out of the hole.
(And he says I have an imagination.)
When asked why he dug such a crazy, insane hole he seriously replied, "So it would be below the freezing line for my fish."
"My fish pond. Why else do you think I dug such a big hole?"
I pointed out to Aaron a couple of weeks ago that the one thing our garden was missing (besides a cherry tree, a grape arbor, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and raspberries) is a fish pond. And guess what we have? FREE LABOR.
Besides, what little boy doesn't want to go dig a great big hole (a great big hole, I might add, that will produce a spectacular amount of soil to use as filler in Aaron's vegetable patch) in the backyard? Mommy just needs to buy some shovels.
And finish getting Daddy on board.