My name is Green Girl and I have a daffodil addiction. I add a new variety each year, about 450 daffodils bloom here in the springtime. My fantasy is to have 30 varieties, thousands of yellow flowers in the spring, and the way these bulbs naturalize, it's not too far-fetched a fantasy. I dug up a few patches last fall that hadn't bloomed and discovered they'd multiplied exponentially, so I divided and moved things around, adding 75 bulbs to new spots. This fall I'll purchase another new variety (or two) and divide some more crowded clusters. Behold! Daffodilpaloza!
The peach insides of these creamy flowers are unique,
but I especially like the dark yellow insides of these jonquils. So cheerful.
Standard all-yellow and pale yellow,
delicate rims of dark yellow in the center,
and peach-colored with double-ruffled inside petals. Definitely the most unusual and showiest.
The sustained warmth made my front bed explode overnight. I swear I could have sat on the porch and watched them grow, the hostas burst through the soil, the tulips budded from scrawny green stems.
A little forsythia brightens up the beds, too.
Formerly this bed was my original vegetable garden when we built. Then it became a strawberry patch when the berries overtook things. Then I got a bright idea to amend the soil with dirt from the creek bed, which brought in enough stinging nettle to burn the Taliban into submission. I've since moved all the strawberries out to their own spot in the potager and will plant this with vegetables once again--peas, green beans, tomatoes and peppers.
This mess is the potager--memorize it well, friends. When you see it again it will be greatly altered in appearance.
Signs of industry are everywhere this time of year.
The dirt calls to me. Can I help myself? I dig dirt.