It's very possible my parent's house will be sold by next spring but I sincerely hope not, as I just spent the last four days planting 215 bulbs, under the careful supervision of the dogs.
Susan's handy bulb-planter should have made this process relatively painless. But, the genius previous homeowner put down black landscaping cloth, to prevent weeds, and a layer of lava rocks on top of the landscaping cloth, as ground cover.
Apparently the secondary goal of these measures was to prevent gardeners eager to plant bulbs from ever succeeding in this endeavor.
Getting a bulb planted involved first digging a hole through the lava rocks down to the tarp, throwing the rocks onto the driveway in short futile bursts of rage, then using an exactly knife to cut out a hole in the tarp, being careful not to cut one's fingers when savagely, and with escalating rage, slicing through the tarp, then digging the rest of the hole with rage overflowing, then finally planting the bulb, and covering it all up again, trying not to curse the gods that it just took five minutes to plant one tiny bulb.
And repeat 214 times.
these are the rocks from just one hole
Good thing the dogs were demanding taskmasters or this would never had gotten finished. And good thing they only dug up and ate a handful of the bulbs before I caught them.
break's over!
