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Revenge of the Daffodils

I hate bulb foliage so much that I think I hate bulbs. Does that make you want to see me in a dunk booth full of RoundUp or what?
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Stupid daffodils—why don’t you just go away already? I’m fickle like that, when daffs were the only thing on the menu I was contented by them. Maybe even delighted by them. Now there’s a smorgasbord of lovely out there and that messy foliage is messing up the picture.

I know well enough to leave the bulb foliage alone so that energy can be stored up for next year’s blooms, but sheesh! I don’t even care anymore if I get flowers next year or not. I went at cutting some of them down to the ground a week ago (feeling naughty and waiting for the garden police to show) and wouldn’t you just know they have grown back to 6 inches tall already?

There are a lot of them and I’m far too lazy to dig them up, plus I’m afraid they might seek some sort of bulbiferous revenge. Do you ever have dreams of going on a Godzilla-like rampage in your garden with a weed wacker or is that just me?

You can leave recommendations for good psychiatrists in the forum. Better do it quick.