Jonquil Twinkling Yellow
The Chihuahua puppies of the garden.
I went in on a big wholesale flower bulbs order with friends this past fall, as we tried to save on shipping and pool resources to avoid the worst of the tariffs.1 I was about to spend a Saturday planting out my bag of 100 narcissus-family bulbs when our life went pear-shaped. John was in the hospital for the next three weeks, and our Cancer Times began.
Friends of John’s from the local municipal pops band stepped in to help. In short order, a crew of volunteers planted the bulbs throughout my back garden one weekend in early November, scattered in clumps across the Kitty Garden, the Old Road Garden, and near the Dokey2.
I could not remember what I had ordered or what size, only that they were in the narcissus family. I looked it up last week, finally: Twinkling Yellow, they were called. I didn’t see anything that looked like daffodils coming up in the garden, only small grassy clumps. Were those grassy bits what had been planted? They didn’t look like daffodils…
Yesterday, they started blooming. I stood in the garden and laughed with sheer joy. They’re really small. Comically, outrageously tiny.
And then I remembered: I had intended to plant them in the grass lawn. I’m glad that didn’t happen; they would have disappeared under the first mowing of the year, before they bloomed. They bloom too late to be all finished blooming before the grass needs to be mowed.
It looks like fairies were busy in my yard over the weekend, putting up tiny little yellow flowers on tall green stalks.
I think the flowers are less than an inch across. They’re shockingly fragrant, though, especially given their diminutive size.
I’m in love. I’ll buy more for next year.

They are so perfectly formed and so preciously tiny. They are the flower version of Chihuahua puppies, nearly unbelievable in their perfect miniatureness and cuteness.


People who tariff flower bulbs are the worst kinds of people, akin to those who kick puppies and don’t put shopping carts back in the cart corral.
The Dokey is a garden folly made of old window sashes painted “Allium Poofs” purple (It’s a Dutch Boy color) and standing near the dying crabapple tree. That it acquired the moniker “Dokey” can be blamed on autocorrect, if I recall.





Those are lovely. A scent issuch an added bonus!
What a nice post! Something about flowers and pets. Much nicer to read than the antics of politicians. Thank you, Jenny Jordan.