I don’t often show wide shots of my garden, but I’m pretty pleased with how my tulips turned out this year. And not a single deer nibble yet.

The hyacinths and early daffodils and tulips have done their thing and been snipped off by now, and I overplanted the new bulbs with violas last September, so these barrels have been blooming in one way or another for eight months. I literally could not fit another single flower in them—although I could’ve stuck a few in that empty pot.

This is the first year I’ve planted tulips in this area (just off the end of the patio). Barcelonas are one of my favorite of all tulips and I should probably have just planted a mass of them here. I can only take pink flowers in small doses, but those Pink Impressions on the end have glowed in the gloom all spring and definitely earned their keep—unlike the dark purple Queen of Night that don’t show up very well in such a dark spot. But I got those free for ordering so many bulbs, so I’ll call it a wash.

I just had to have these soft yellow tulips (can’t remember their name) and those Double Princess Irenes for the flower pots on the front porch, but they were only available on end-of-season clearance in minimum batches of 100, so I planted the leftovers around this tree and they look prettier than the ones in the front porch pots, which I’m not showing.

And this is my cheerful happy place: my veggie beds and my most favorite of all tulip colors: red and orange. Sigh. If only those boxes were full of greens by now.

Hmm. It’s rather an unfortunate spring in the Pacific Northwest to have a garden blog. Given the copious rain and gloom, it’s like trying in vain to stretch posts through the long, dreary month of February, but without the diversion of spectacular convention center garden shows. Perhaps I should take up garden knitting. Yeah, maybe I’ll knit me some veggie cozies, just in case the sun never does emerge this year.

As I gripe about the weather, please enjoy the tulips. Notice that they have sun shining through them, which is entirely misleading. In fact, if you live in the Pacific Northwest, you know I could only have taken these photos on one of our three sunny days in the past month. And it wasn’t yesterday, although yesterday was lovely. I think we broke 60 degrees. On the local news last night, the weatherman actually said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you when we’ll next see a sunny day. Perhaps you should take up knitting.”

Given that my blooming trees still aren’t, I’m sure glad I planted so many tulips this year or I’d have bupkis. Also, I should mention that although my own tulips are stunning this year, most of these photos were taken in the Roozengaarde display gardens at the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival because they plant half a million bulbs. And I don’t.

Bupkis is also exactly what I know about knitting. But how hard could it be to knit a zucchini cozy? Isn’t it basically just a sock? Maybe I shouldn’t even get started on the veggie garden, lest I work myself into a stew. The radishes that I planted over a month ago just got their first true leaves, and they were supposed to be edible in 21 days. Also, it’s hard to knit a cozy for a root veggie.

My sugar snap peas that I also planted a month ago are still only two inches tall, so we’ll be eating those well into July. Just in time to yank the spring vines and plant the fall crop. How long do you think it will take me to knit 90 long, thin scarves to twine around my pea plants to hustle things along?

And I’m beginning to wonder just how many times I can “cut and come again” before my overwintered lettuce is exhausted because my spring-sown is just barely germinated. I’m thinking modified toilet paper cozies with a nice tri-color orange yarn for the lettuces.

And in a pure fit of spite, I seeded my green beans and started my summer squash last week. But I am having serious doubts about even attempting tomatoes this year since they’re a crapshoot in even the best of Pacific Northwest summers. Hmm. Knit one, purl two.

I love to get gifts. Yesterday I received not one, but two pairs of snazzy purple gloves from a long-time reader (and friend). So if you’re a long-time reader (or friend) don’t hesitate to send me gifts if this particular post planted that particular idea in your noggin. And you really can’t go wrong with purple. Pretty much anything purple. Funny thing is, I saw these very gloves in a store a couple of weeks ago and almost bought them for myself. See? Good gifts come to those who wait.

Thank you for thinking of me, Lori. You made my day.

The sun has finally begun peeking through the gloom, I’m slowly kicking my flu, and the tulips are starting to get gorgeous in my garden. I’d call that a promising forecast.

Praestans Fusilier Tulips

Turns out that I did not plant my tulips excessively deep, as I previously thought. They’re Praestans Fusiliers that only get 10 inches tall. I love their multiple blooms—five on each stem. They’re simply gorgeous, even though mine are looking a little worse for wear after yesterday’s hail and last night’s dusting of snow. I may have been a bit optimistic in planting my carrots this week.

This is what tulips look like when you plant them too deep.

What I actually get to look at all winter:

Hooray! My bulbs are all in the ground—and a mere two days before snow is forecast.

All photos were taken in the RoozenGaarde tulip fields and gorgeous display gardens. I could have stayed there for days. Click here for their online catalog.

I finally made it to the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival—before all of the fields look like this. In fact, I’ve spent the past two days and 800 shutter clicks among the tulips.

The first day was a real adventure. I was so preoccupied with loading all of the camera paraphernalia and maps and jackets and bottled water into the car that I drove off wearing my house slippers and had to go back for my boots.

Then I pulled off for a pit stop at the last gas station before the tulip field exit and failed to notice the Evergreen Sexy Seniors tour bus parked outside. I stood in line among the Corn Nuts and expired Limited Edition Haagen-Dazs ice cream, chatting with the nice ladies and helping them wedge their walkers through the narrow door of the one-toilet bathroom.

And when I took my jerky and Gardetto’s up to the cash register, lo and behold, they had fried gizzards under the heat lamp. They made me so happy. I felt like I was home again.

As deep-fry stank wafted from my hair, I walked out to the car and took a photo of this barn, which will always remind me of chicken gizzards. And if I ever learn how to use Photoshop, I’ll fix that sky.

Then I was on my way to the tulip fields, where I somehow overlooked the big sign screaming TULIP ROUTE and instead relied on my vehicle voice guidance system—which frequently reminded me in calm tones that I was in an unmapped area where it could be of no assistance. So I wandered around lost for an hour, heading West instead of South and North instead of East. My sense of direction is so poor that if I think I should turn right, it’s a sure bet that I should turn left.

I’ll miss tromping the mucky fields today looking for different ways to see the tulips with the camera. And, as I sort through all of the photos, it seems very quiet without the constant chatter of strangers oohing and aahing at the pretty flowers. Check back in a couple of days, after I’ve deadheaded the keepers from the duds, and I’ll post some pictures of the fields and gorgeous display gardens.

Orange Emperor 8AM Pacific Standard Time

SORRY GARDEN, Carnation WA—According to an anonymous staffer, the Orange Emperor woke to frostbite early this morning and was reportedly doubled over with flaccid stems due to the unusually cold temperatures. Although the Emperor did miss his Saturday morning tee time, he regained his strength later in the day and was aboard the royal yacht in time for afternoon sunbathing.

Orange Emperor 2PM Pacific Standard Time