Moving to our first (doll) house about a decade ago was fun and exciting. As soon as the first cold week crept in I immediately planted tulip bulbs with the help of my sister Jenny who insisted that we plant in clumps of (odd number) 7 bulbs each in order to according to her maintain a balance in the arrangements. Had I been alone, I would have planted the bulbs in a row. Come springtime, one day, after the bulbs have sprouted and grown to about 3 inches, it snowed like crazy while I was at work, I could not wait to get home to rescue my tulip plants. When I got home, they were buried in snow 13 inches deep, I heroically cleared the white stuff around the tulips. When I finally got inside the house I was cold and shivering, my hands were stiff and toes, feeling like they were ready to fall off. Later that spring, I was happily rewarded with these:
(pix of tulips here)
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