
A host of... pink daffodils.
When we plant bulbs, it is unlike almost anything else we do in the garden, in that we cannot see our results and only will see them in the future. We have no guarantees, just a hope that somehow they (and we) will survive the winter and then miraculously, when we need that boost the most, there they are, in their astonishing, life affirming glory.
In order to see them next spring, we have to worry first about the mundane. I ordered my bulbs back in July and August and had them shipped to me this past week. I try to order bulbs that are rodent resistant because we have a serious problem with mice/voles believing that I have laid a feast especially for them. I make an exception for Colorblend’s exceptional assortment of parrot tulips, which are undeniably gorgeous. Mostly, I ordered daffodils, scilla siberica and alliums.
All of the bulbs arrived from Colorblends last week in two large crates, ready to be planted. Once I receive them I sort them into buckets in the mix that I desire… usually 1/4 of each variety of daffodil and 1/4 alliums. For smaller bulbs, as below, the bucket is a great way to keep track of the little things and how many you’ve used.

Bulbs, sorted.
Scilla siberica, above, are ready for planting along the front walkway. In the bucket is a dibber for folks who have more patience and want to plant one at a time. Basically, you insert it in the ground, and drop a single bulb in the hole. This only works with smaller bulbs. I plant the dibber bulbs about the depth of one finger– about three inches.

"Dibbing" a hole.
For larger bulbs that I plant one at a time, I dig a hole with a narrow transplanting spade, as I did with the Globemaster Alliums below. I try to plant these the depth of a hand (which on me is about seven inches).

Planting big bulbs in an existing bed with a transplant spade.

Allium Globemaster bulb
For planting more than one bulb at a time, I dig a big hole and plant them all– generally dig as deep as the regular spade will go, so about 8-10 inches, and plant the bulbs in the hole. I try to use odd numbers and then I space them out as evenly spaced as possible.

Alliums, evenly spaced in their hole.
My tulips are beloved by voles, so I sprinkle them with bloodmeal and crushed oyster shells. In Wisconsin, crushed oyster shells are not available readily, so I buy them in bulk on ebay. Then just cover them with the soil you removed from the hole, making sure to break up any clumps.
If you need to plant under mulch and use my newspaper technique, you can easily roll the newspaper back and plant underneath, otherwise, you’d be wise to use a dibber.

Using Newspaper to roll back the mulch.
With any luck, your bulbs will be up and beautiful and you will be enjoying them all season.
Sustainability
Published November 20, 2009 Comment 2 CommentsTags: sustainability, sustainable garden
I cannot stand this word. I recently looked it up to make sure I wasn’t missing a hidden meaning, but nope, just like I thought, it means to “keep going.” In common parlance, I think folks use this word to mean something that can keep itself going with minimal stewardship from us.
My hatred stems partly from an ongoing dislike of trendy words and silly usages: monetize, “grow” the economy– etc. That is not to say that I don’t love overused words (and double negatives)- eponymous- as in “my eponymous blog,” is my favorite word. But sustainability really sticks in my craw. I was once reading a design magazine where a designer said that he didn’t use stone countertops anymore because they weren’t sustainable. Stone? Not sustainable? What are you standing on? It is the very definition of something that is sustainable!
Now don’t misunderstand this either- we need to consider the environment and ecosystem when we plant and weed and spray chemicals. That is important- but has nothing to do with sustainability.
More to the point for us gardeners, “sustainable” gardens don’t exist. Gardens exists purely because we put plants in a location and take care of them. We are inherently creating an unnatural ecosystem- and even in a restored prairie (as any prairie owner can tell you), a garden’s continuation will depend entirely on our own good graces and our skills at weeding, fertilizer, dividing, planting, digging, burning, composting. Don’t get me started on a sustainable vegetable garden. (Peas and carrots will grow in perpetuity on your property? Now THAT’s impressive.) Anyone who wants to know whether even the most basic gardens are sustainable should find the foreclosed house in their neighborhood and take a look at the garden- it’s the first thing to go.
Could a person sustain a garden in perpetuity? No. And who would want to?Tastes change, climate changes, pests and diseases come and go. Gardening is as much about living today as it is about living in the future. Gardens are ephemeral, artificial creations- and that is one of the things that makes them so impressive and beautiful. Not any idiotic claims of sustainability.