In a fight between daffodils, primulas and hyacinths, who do you reckon would win? Daffodils would for sure, they have got tons of sass, I wouldn't fancy my chance with the yellow overlord of springtime.
The time to ponder that impossible question has arrived for us Blighty dwellers again, signs of spring everywhere. I love it, makes me want to quote Wordsworth but I'll stick with Dickens today, we don't need to be inflating the crazy daffodil ego any more than necessary.
Spring for me is yellow hued and hyacinth scented. I like the warm sunshine on my face, hanging washing on the line, sitting inside with a cup of tea and watching sheets flapping around in a blustery March breeze. I like busy garden centres and playing outside after long months of cold, and dark, and wet, I like seeing the first green shoots on the clematis and guessing what day the bluebells will make an appearance. I like my Birthday, Tilly's Birthday, Mother's Day and planning Easter fun, I like the promise of summer and sitting outside.
We went off to the busy garden centre last week and got ourselves some primmies to plant in pots in an effort to brighten up our very dull, very dreary and a bit mouldy green looking garden.
Betsy helped. In that really helpful not helpful Betsy way that extends the whole experience by a mile but is way too cute to say anything about. She picked all the prims (no colour coordinating for our pots then, OCD begone!), she helped do the digging, the planting and then she got bored and went off to play with her ball.
The pots got filled anyway, even though my tiny helping person buggered off, we now officially have spring in the garden, yo.