That’s Not A Daffodil

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Sydney’s had a spot of sunshine these last few weeks, and my little garden has been fooled into believing it’s Spring.

OK, so maybe ‘garden’ is a bit generous. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that tiny corner of our backyard in which we’re playing at growing a few things. But then, I’ve never pretended to be an awesome garden blogger. πŸ™‚

We only moved into our house in May, and one afternoon we created this tiny little garden bed in a lonely corner of the backyard. We planted some thyme, chervil, parsley and basil, only to watch the parsley and basil be eaten by our neighbourhood possums that very night.

Then we discovered a book called “That’s Not A Daffodil” by Elizabeth Honey, among the 72 books that I’d borrowed from our local libraries that week. (I found out later the limit is supposed to be 20. Oops.)

It’s a cheeky little book about the various stages of growing a daffodil from bulb to flower, with some lovely subliminal pro-multiculturalism messages thrown in. JJ enjoyed it, and we read it every other day for a fortnight or so.

So it made perfect sense for Mr Banya to pick up a few miniature daffodil bulbs (or jonquils as my Mum calls them). We had a lovely afternoon planting them, and JJ enjoyed watering them every few days and watching the little shoots sprout.

I was expecting them to bloom in late August, but they started in early July. As of today, every bulb has a spattering of flowers adding a bit of yellow sunshine to our days.

xxx Danya

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