dianaschnuth

Today, when my co-worker Scott came back from lunch, he brought with him my Moonbeam Coreopsis plants which had arrived from Michigan Bulb today. I had been hoping to plant those today, but the rain had other plans.

Yesterday afternoon, it occured to me that I hadn’t planted the bare-root Lilies of the Valley and Delphiniums that I’d picked up from Scott’s house the week before. When I went to check them out, to see how they were faring in their little plastic bags, I discovered the Lilies of the Valley growing absolutely apeshit *inside* the sealed bag. It’s like going under the kitchen counter to that sack of potatoes you forgot about, and discovering a freaking garden growing in your kitchen: kind of fascinating, but kind of weird and gross. Except these were *supposed* to be growing, so it wasn’t as gross as it was weird.

Anyway, after I put the laundry in the dryer last night, I went outside and prepared the dirt in front of the house—basically, I turned over the soil and removed the skeletal remains of last year’s gardening debacle—and planted my six Lilies of the Valley.

So, going back a little further: last Friday, as I was getting ready to leave for work, I took a look at the baby plants I’d just gotten the day before. And, to my dismay (but not my surprise, exactly), I found that the cat had knocked my Morning Glories onto the floor. They looked pretty sad. Wilty. Of course, I was running late to work, so all I could do was beat the cat and scoop as much soil as I could back into the pot around the limp leaves. I emailed Aaron once I got to work, and he was a sport and vacuumed up the soil.

Over the weekend, I put all my baby plants outside in the sunshine, still in their happy little plastic containers, and watered them. The healthy plants became even healthier. One Morning Glory perked right back up, but the other one is pretty much dead now. Ah, well. I guess that’s why I got two.

So, next on the agenda:

1. Install decorative white wire fence border from Big Lots around the Lilies of the Valley.
2. Pack topsoil around mailbox, since some nice person decided to hit it with their car and knock it loose while we weren’t home.
3. Plant Delphiniums, Coreopsis, and Lavender around mailbox.
4. Plant the Morning Glory underneath the little tree by the street.
5. Plant Sheryl’s miniature daffodil bulbs under the small maple tree in the front yard.
6. Figure out where to plant Snapdragons and Calamint.

If all this stuff lives to see another spring, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

This morning at work, I was getting my water bottle out of the break room freezer when I saw a table full of plants. Full. Of little baby plants. I wandered over to where half a dozen people were gathered around, and discovered that a woman from another department was giving away extra runners and sprouts from her garden. She had everything labeled, some with care instructions, and they all looked healthy, if a touch small.

I ended up with four pairs of plants: Snapdragons, Lavender, Morning Glory (Heavenly Blue), and Calamint. I looked them all up in the plant encyclopedia that Aaron got me, so I’ll know how not to kill them. Add those to the miniature daffodils that Sheryl got me for my birthday, and the plants I bought from Michigan Bulb with Scott ($20 off a $40 order, so we each got $20 of plants for $10—I got Lilies of the Valley, Delphiniums, and Coreopsis), and I’ve got a pretty decent showing of flowery goodness.

My plan is to plant the daffodils and the full-sun-to-partial-shade plants under the small tree in our front yard. The must-have-full-sun plants will go around the mailbox. The shady front of the house is reserved for the Lilies of the Valley, which will apparently grow most anywhere, in varying degrees of sunlight and surviving varying degrees of watering neglect. Now that’s my kind of plant.

I don’t have a good track record with outdoor plants, so I’ll keep you posted on how they do. Once I get them planted (hopefully this weekend), maybe I’ll take some pictures… although they won’t be much to look at yet.

Maybe I won’t kill all my plants this year. Maybe things will bloom and grow and things will be keen.

*crosses fingers*

P.S. – The rose I thought I’d killed by not covering it over the winter seems to be springing back. I wonder if it’ll bloom this year.