Planting fever, that is. It hit yesterday. I planted a few pots of pansies, in addition to the raking and weeding, and that was all it took. But 24 pansies weren't nearly enough. Our drab, dreary yard needed color and now. Yes, daffodils and scila are coming, but in the meantime, we NEEDED COLOR.
I decided to plant pansies between the flagstone path to the neighbor's house (for the mail carrier) and our house, and also on the mound in the corner I call "iris hill." I started with the perfectly sane idea of keeping to a color scheme, yellow and blue, to go with the daffodils and scila. But I went to City Floral, so I ended up with a sunny yellow and a sky blue, sure, but also a variety of sherbet oranges, wine reds, apricots, lilacs, deep purples, and combinations of orange and purple and gold and red and cream and wine. I bought any pansy that caught my eye, which turned out to be 16 six-packs. Unfortunately, it turns out that not even 120 pansies are really enough color for our large front yard.
But we'll just have to wait for the bulbs to come up because, fever or no, after three more hours of raking, weeding and planting, I am so sore I made hubby swear that tomorrow, no matter how much I might want to (there's still plenty to do), he won't let me work in the yard.
It was worth it though. And now the gods are rewarding my efforts: it's raining. Rain. In March. In Denver.
I decided to plant pansies between the flagstone path to the neighbor's house (for the mail carrier) and our house, and also on the mound in the corner I call "iris hill." I started with the perfectly sane idea of keeping to a color scheme, yellow and blue, to go with the daffodils and scila. But I went to City Floral, so I ended up with a sunny yellow and a sky blue, sure, but also a variety of sherbet oranges, wine reds, apricots, lilacs, deep purples, and combinations of orange and purple and gold and red and cream and wine. I bought any pansy that caught my eye, which turned out to be 16 six-packs. Unfortunately, it turns out that not even 120 pansies are really enough color for our large front yard.
But we'll just have to wait for the bulbs to come up because, fever or no, after three more hours of raking, weeding and planting, I am so sore I made hubby swear that tomorrow, no matter how much I might want to (there's still plenty to do), he won't let me work in the yard.
It was worth it though. And now the gods are rewarding my efforts: it's raining. Rain. In March. In Denver.
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