Finally the jonquils flower en masse and I missed their burgeoning. Cruel fate!
These are not ordinary jonquils.
When my parents bought the house next door to them as an investment property in the early 80s, Mum was given some jonquil bulbs by a friend. Dad hates bulbs so Mum secretly planted them in the garden next to the front porch of the house next door and pretended they were there all along. Dad knew they hadn't been there at all but upheld the fiction. They were always known as Mum's flowers and in late winter and early spring she filled small vases with them for the house.
20 years pass. *insert wavy time warp image*
Almost exactly 3 years ago, my brother knocked down the house next door and built a big new house for his family. I moved into my house just around the corner at about the same time. At my brother's insistence most of the garden was retained during the building process but the plants closest to the house were to be bulldozed too.
The week before the bulldozers moved in, my brother, his family, his father-in-law and I spent a weekend salvaging what plants we could. The jonquils were just getting ready to bloom when I dug them up and placed them in one of the polystyrene broccoli boxes we begged from the markets. Some I planted in my garden straight away, others stayed in the polystyrene boxes until the next autumn when Dad planted them throughout the new beds we had just created in my back yard.
This is the first year I've had a decent display and they are lovely. I take Mum a small bunch every few days.
Dad arrived home from his Trans-Siberian odyssey this morning. When I mentioned the jonquils had finally bloomed and were now nearly over, he suggested I plant some daffodils as well so I'd get a longer spring display next year. "Bulbs are so cheerful; I don't know why your mother doesn't have some", he informed me. I haven't had the heart to tell Mum.
And to those who suggested I weed there acreages while I was about it, I have two words for you: GET FLOCKED (preferably of those little miniature sheep; they're bound to keep the weeds at bay).