In the afternoon, we knew we were headed to our friends' house for a fabulous meal and pleasant fellowship. Before that, all six of us went down to plant furrows of daffodil bulbs.
Phil plowed six trenches between the two swales. We had hoped that we could easily set the bulbs in, but immediately realized that was a pipe dream. The dirt from the trenches fell back as the blade moved on. So while we didn't have to actually pierce the soil, we did have to scoop out everything that fell back in. There is no easy way to plant bulbs.
So while I removed dirt mostly by hand, and Phil removed dirt with the shovel, the older boys set bulbs in the trenches. I had hoped that we could use the tractor to easily push the dirt back over the bulbs, but that, too, proved unrealistic. So Phil shoveled soil back on top of all the bulbs.
In two and a half hours of very concentrated, physically exhausting labor, we planted four crates of bulbs (twenty crates to go). That was fourteen hundred, and we are done with 31% of our planting.
And we headed off for many hours of laughter and good conversation, full of thanksgiving. A good Thanksgiving!
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