My uncle told me of the “old days” of landscaping and bulb offers of decades past. He told me how sometime between Columbus Day and Thanksgiving his sister-in-law approached him with a neat little cardboard box in one hand and something that looked like acorns or shelled peanuts in the other.
“Look, Ted,” she said, “are these tulips?” Sure, they were tulips all right. But were they any good, hadn’t she been stuck, weren’t tulips supposed to be about as big as onions say?
Why yes, flowering size bulbs were, unless they were small-flowered species tulips, not Darwins, breeders and the like, but these weren’t species, and they weren’t flowering size, in fact they most likely never would flower, because they’d probably get some disease and die before then or else they’d split up again and wouldn’t get any bigger anyway, that is unless she knew something about raising tulips from bulblets, but of course she didn’t, and so yes she’d sure been stuck – better throw them away and not waste time, energy and fertilizer trying to coax them along. Where’d she get them anyway?
100 Bulbs For A Dollar
From some ad – they said a hundred bulbs for a dollar something. And one hundred they were, no more, no less, packed with room to spare in a box designed to hold a small alarm clock.
But of course they didn’t say flowering bulbs, so maybe she couldn’t complain, maybe she hadn’t really been stuck at all. All right, but so far as she was concerned she had bought something utterly worthless and if that isn’t being stuck then what is?
Of the same general pattern is the story of a friend who bought enough roses, hardy shrubs and evergreens to plant an entire average size garden from a similar “sensational offer.” Maybe this is even more interesting – funnier or sadder, depending on your point of view.
The order went off with utmost dispatch and delivery was awaited with all the expectancy of a child’s wait for Santa Claus. Then at last an email arrived, the shipment was at the post office – come and get it. Now that wasn’t quite fair. Why hadn’t it been delivered to my friend’s door? But oh well, anyway, he certainly wouldn’t be able to carry all those shrubs and trees, so he borrowed a friend’s truck and took a “helper” along to give him a hand. After he’d visited the postal clerk he was handed him his “shipment” in a mailing tube – not much fatter than the kind you receive a calendar in.
W-e-l-l-l-l . . . ! He’d certainly see about this! But of course all he ever saw about it was that he’d been stuck. True, the “shrubs,” etc., had roots on them and they weren’t actually dead. But he’d sure have quite a wait – and would have to do some propagating besides – before they’d be enough to plant his “entire average size garden.”
The moral of these true-life tales is obvious enough: In plants, as in everything else, you generally get what you pay for, and unless you’re a gambler at heart it’s best to stay away from the “bargain offers” of firms you don’t know. This fall, don’t get stuck!
by T Watson – 62925
