Not until that winter, when I had planted an area larger than any of the urban backyards that I grew up with, did I read that bulb foliage needs to ripen, and that the lawn couldn't be mowed until that happened.
We were new to the neighborhood and that side lawn was very visible to the street. Bulb foliage takes forever to ripen - especially when you plant late blooming varieties. The lawn grew up around it; the neighbors seemed distinctly less pleased to have us.
I wasn't teaching summer school that year because I was finishing a book. So every morning I would take the hand clippers and spend some time preparing to sit down and write. This was contemplation time, wherein I crawled around that entire huge lawn, clipping the grass down to an acceptable length. I had to do this several times, as the blasted grass insisted in growing. I got lots of contemplating done. Not much writing.
That got old, really fast.
But I did it. Becoming a neighborhood pariah was not part of my life plan.
Then I discovered mulch. I theorized that if the stuff helped to keep down weeds, it might also help keep down the grass. That fall we heaped mulch all over the planted areas. Or rather, my husband did, with major enthusiasm. Like about 18" worth of enthusiasm. I spent part of the next spring crawling around again, this time to liberate several albino crocuses that were trying to bloom under the whole thing because they could never get tall enough to emerge on top of it all.
The taller bulbs emerged beautifully. The mulch composted itself and suddenly I was left with two huge planting areas in the side yard, bisected by a grass path.
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