OF 'LABRADORICAL DEPRESSION'
Yesterday's weather was beautiful. Aha! A chance to finally, finally plant those fat, quality spring bulbs that I ordered last October. Our daughter had planted some in her fiance's yard, and my favorite preschool planted more, but I still had probably $30 or $40 worth in the garage that I never got around to getting under a soil blanket last fall.
Garden Procrastination Queen that I am, I've done this before, and knew they'd come up if I could get them in the ground before a hard freeze. And one was a'comin'.
So out I went to the garden, with bulbs, bone meal and some quality compost:
Just a couple of hours later, I ventured outside again . . . and found that a mini-mountain of fresh dirt and scattered bulbs were all over the driveway!
That renegade 1-year-old Labrador retriever, Maisy "Mayhem" Williams!!!
I ranted and raved . . . but this is not the first time she has done this. Ah should've knowed better.
Oh, well. Always wanted to try "forcing" bulbs. Now's my chance!
And who could stay mad at this face for long:
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