About me: I am the lucky owner of two hands’ worth of green fingers. I’ve always loved gardens and gardening, starting my first garden in 1997, with eight roses and a jumble of various annuals that did quite respectably, in spite of my unwitting attempts to murder them, one and all (Ever spray 50/50 vinegar and water on rose foliage on a hot, dry, summer afternoon?).I now am owned by over one hundred and twenty roses, several thousand bulbs, and enough perennials to choke a herd of elephants--see how quickly the addiction progresses?
The Twelve Steps, as Adapted for Bulbaholics Anonymous:
1. We admitted we were powerless over bulbs--that our orders had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore our planting to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our cute, paper, nursery sacks and 3" bulb augers over to the care of our Higher Power.
4. Made a searching and fearless inventory of our planting excesses.
5. Admitted to our Higher Power, to ourselves, and to a non-gardener the exact extent of our daffodil collection.
6. Were entirely ready to have our Higher Power remove all our bright, red, naturalizing tools and bonus packs of lilies.
7. Humbly asked Her/ Him to remove our insatiable lust for more bulbs.
8. Made a list of all persons we had exploited as cheap digging labor and became willing to allow them a weekend off in October.
9. Made direct ammends to the soil whenever possible, except when to do so would injure your back.
10. Continued to take bulb-splurging inventories, and when we ordered 800 more snow glories than neccessary, promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through desperate prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with the fact that the garden can’t take any more or she’ll blow.
12. Having had a fatter wallet and a thinner garden as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to Bulbaholics and practice these principles in all our geophyte affairs.
My zone is: z5 NW PA
The Twelve Steps, as Adapted for Bulbaholics Anonymous:
1. We admitted we were powerless over bulbs--that our orders had become unmanageable.
2. Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore our planting to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our cute, paper, nursery sacks and 3" bulb augers over to the care of our Higher Power.
4. Made a searching and fearless inventory of our planting excesses.
5. Admitted to our Higher Power, to ourselves, and to a non-gardener the exact extent of our daffodil collection.
6. Were entirely ready to have our Higher Power remove all our bright, red, naturalizing tools and bonus packs of lilies.
7. Humbly asked Her/ Him to remove our insatiable lust for more bulbs.
8. Made a list of all persons we had exploited as cheap digging labor and became willing to allow them a weekend off in October.
9. Made direct ammends to the soil whenever possible, except when to do so would injure your back.
10. Continued to take bulb-splurging inventories, and when we ordered 800 more snow glories than neccessary, promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through desperate prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with the fact that the garden can’t take any more or she’ll blow.
12. Having had a fatter wallet and a thinner garden as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to Bulbaholics and practice these principles in all our geophyte affairs.
My zone is: z5 NW PA
GardenWeb Member: alia - March 10, 2001