Planting Bulbs: A New Method

Back from a trip to visit mom on Galveston Bay, in the home I was raised.  Visits, now, always include gardening.  Oddly, because I don't remember it happening, ever, growing up, nor until the past few years, green scum grows on the outside of her windows.  Whatever, it's on the list with pruning and weeding.  What's more filth while gardening, aside from pure joy ! 
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This morning, unexpectedly, huge garden day.  Last time I had a day this big, was over a decade ago, reading Graham Stuart Thomas.     



Reading Pentreath & Hall Inspiration, typically posted Monday mornings, I've known for awhile to enjoy the anticipation of its arrival.   
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Remember well, reading in bed, learning from Graham Stuart Thomas, where the bed was, what color the walls were, the carpet hadn't been replaced with heart-of-pine yet, and which lamp was on the bedside table. 
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Amusing, today I'm in my favorite antique wicker chair, window facing the morning sun, cow pastures beyond, a few of our century old pecan trees, with a light skim of condensation on the windows, wanting badly to be frost. 
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Yes, today I will remember, long after its gone.  Planting bulbs, below, this part I knew.  Somehow I've always known, always, not to use a bulb planter.  If you can count the number of flowers, you don't have enough.  Dinky is stinky.  When ordering bulbs, scare yourself, buy far more than you can afford.   
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Beyond thrilling, below.  How to properly plant a bulb bed.  Never, would I have figured out using those boards.  Never.
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Moving along the bulb bed, below. 
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Made a mistake gardening at mom's.  Should have put a beanie hat on, above.  My hairdresser had open heart surgery this summer, hair has not been trimmed since & is much too long.  Pruning the small tree outside my childhood bedroom window, my hair got caught in the tightly packed branches/stems/foliage.  You haven't lived until you've been stuck to a tree, by your hair.  Had to drop the long handled pruners, and somehow unweave my hair, arms/hands, reaching well above my head. 
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Working at the side of the house, neighbors weren't home, no one drove by, I don't think anyone saw, this gardening fail.  Last time I was stuck to my garden by my hair, almost 2 decades ago, I was on my stomach underneath a long hedge.  That hair/foliage knot was worse.  Now you know, not my first rodeo with this type garden fail. 
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Still learning major new garden skills, still making ridiculous mistakes.
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Life is good.
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Garden & Be Well,   XO T
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Pics, above, Pentreath & Hall.