At this moment, two things are true. I still have 4 boxes of bulbs—maybe 250 or so total—sitting in the back room. And when I when I opened the door of that room and stepped outside this morning, I walked into 10 inches of pre-Thanksgiving winter wonderland.
This is also true: There probably wouldn’t have been that many bulbs left over if I had ordered a few less than 1900. Even with selling some to a friend and planting and potting all I could, I still have to find a place for a whole mess of hybrid tulips.
Some of the tulips I don’t even remember choosing. Why did I get 100 Ballerina, lily-flowered? “Few can resist her,” says the Van Engelen copywriters. I should have. I don’t like the lily-flowered types that much, and I hate calling plants “her.” What’s with the 350 doubles? Doubles can be troublesome to grow in pots. (I force many tulips and hyacinths and grow hybrid tulips mainly in pots.) Why 100 Bakeri ‘Lilac Wonder?’ It’s a decent species type but 10–20 would have been fine to mix in with the other species I have.
I must have been in some kind of late summer frenzy. It wasn’t alcohol.
I don’t know too many gardeners that get as obsessed with bulbs. Bulbs are among my earliest plant purchases; I remember choosing from the Van Engelen catalog the summer after we moved into our house and had our first real garden. And regardless of how that garden has changed over the years, with many makeovers, bulbs go in every year. It must be because they’re a sure thing. Perennials don’t always perform as expected; I am positive I’ve planted dozens that have faltered and ultimately have vanished. For at least one season, bulbs are perfect, usually even better looking than their pictures. They’re great for an impatient gardener who doesn’t really want to wait through the sleeping and creeping. And who isn’t troubled by deer. Though I know many suburban gardeners who succeed with tulips in spite of deer. There are ways.
Perhaps I focus on bulbs because they distract from the real work my garden needs. Perhaps I throw bulbs in a hole in the beds to avoid thinking about how they should be reorganized. or at least weeded.
This year, I went too far. I admit it. I won’t go cold turkey. But maybe next time, I’ll have a designated reviewer of my order before I hit “proceed to checkout.”
The first step is admitting you have a problem originally appeared on GardenRant on November 12, 2019.
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