The wonder of bulbs

Zander and I spent a great deal of time this week planting bulbs. I love the idea of bulb-planting. It's the ultimate in delayed gratification; you work and work, then have nothing to show for it. Or do you? When you're sick and tired of winter and cold and snow, guess what happens? A tiny little green shoot pokes up through the dirt, and before you know it, your yard is full of color, and it's SPRING! Tulips are my very favorite, but I also love Dafodils and the smell of Hyacinths. I'm also trying some Irises this time around. And then, year after year, you get rewarded for that one week of sweating and planting deep. You don't have to do another thing, except a little upkeep here and there. The Miracle of Bulbs. I know that was a sentence fragment, but I think the phrase can stand on its own, without a verb or anything.

Not only do I love bulbs, but I really loved the time I was able to spend with my little Zandy. He was a trooper! We would put Amari down for a nap, then go outside. He helped me the entire time - no breaks to play or anything. He is such a good little helper. He would help me by finding places to plant, handing me bulbs, and helping to dig holes. He especially liked using the camera to get shots of me, the dirt, the sky . . . It was beyond nice to get to spend that much time one-on-one with him. He is my buddy. Despite his propensity for trouble, I love having him constantly by my side.