On Tuesday I was rudely forced outside to frantically dig holes all over my yard. A UPS delivery driver rang the doorbell at 3:15 that afternoon and dropped off a box of 500 flower bulbs that I had ordered in August. Surprise! I had no idea they were scheduled to arrive. I wanted to cry. Not only was there a big storm system on the way that threatened to dump several inches of rain, but this time of year in southern Wisconsin the sun sets pretty darn early. I only had a couple of hours of daylight left.
My planting plans were in total disarray because many of those bulbs (scilla, galanthus, crocus) were going to be planted under some trees in the front yard that we share with our neighbors. That was until they informed us last week that both trees are going to be taken down this winter because the roots are possibly causing flooding issues in their basement. And a landscaping company will be coming in the spring to slope their lawn away from the house. Whoops. There goes my planting space.
I had to scour the yard and flowerbeds for any open spaces to plant all the new bulbs, and it wasn’t easy work. The abundance of rain this year turned my perennials (and many sneaky weeds) into a tangled jungle. The hailstorm in September pounded everything to the ground, and windy days late last week blew a lot of the leaves off the oak trees into my flowerbeds. The only way to find bare ground was to dig for it. I looked like a giant squirrel flinging leaves and soil in every direction as I desperately searched for planting plots.
Scilla and galanthus bulbs are sturdy enough to push through grass, so when I really got desperate, I resorted to digging out little plugs of sod and sticking bulbs directly into the lawn. Both plants die back pretty quickly in the spring, so I won’t have to worry about mowing over the flowers—unless we get a freak warm-up next spring and we have to get the lawnmower out in March.
I got about 3/4 of the bulbs planted before the pitter-patter of rain drops had turned into a steady hiss. I was in way too big of a hurry to label anything I planted, so it’s going to be one giant surprise when the flowers pop out of the ground next spring.