This fall I bought a, like, lot of bulbs and plants. Daffodils, mostly, as well as a crapton of tulips and some other stuff I don’t remember. I believe there were about 100 bulbs, seedlings, etc., that I put in the ground.
Imagine, if you will, my consternation when, the following day, the beds were pock-marked with holes. We have possums, raccoons, skunks, squirrels, and probably other creatures who live in our urban neighborhood. (Not to mention snakes! For the first time ever, I saw a garter snake on the compost pile yesterday, and that is going to add a whole other layers of ‘Is it, or isn’t it?’ fun to my childrens’ habit of leaving their plastic snakes out in the yard. I think snakes are cute, but I will shriek and flail loud as the next person at Unanticipated Creepy-Crawly Things.) Anyway, point being, some four-legged greedy asshole dug up a king’s ransom of bulbs and I was displeased about it. Possibly I said words around the children that one shouldn’t say around children. Being as they were very invested in the Peach Cobbler Daffodils we had ordered, I figured they shared the sentiment.
Cut to today. The damage to the flower beds must have been less than I thought, several months ago, because there are tons of daffodils blooming in about 8 or 9 varieties and just generally reminding me why they are one of my favorite things. The moppets are thrilled because among them are THREE Peach Cobbler Daffodils, which look like this:
Sitting in the backyard with Jim today, enjoying a pre-dinner beer (Leffe Blond, Belgium represent!), I notice that there is what seems to be a tulip growing in the pachysandra, where I most certainly did not plant it. Around the same time, Eliza, who has clambered into the weird wooded no-man’s-land between our property and the neighbor that lives behind us, is yelling something about a daffodil growing in the woods. And then I notice that elsewhere in the pachysandra, there. is. a. daffodil.
Yep. The rodents we live with apparently didn’t like my landscaping and carried off my bulbs to replant them where THEY saw fit.