Last winter, I grew paperwhites indoors. It worked out great: they quickly grew tall and produced pretty little white flowers. Sometime in very early spring, I stuck them outside because the stems were dead and looked ugly. After a few months of neglectful watering (don’t put anything in a spot you never see because you won’t remember to water it!), I decided they should be transplanted into a single, big pot.
Sometime this summer, I think in June, I dug them out of their vases and emptied another pot of its dead flower bulbs to be their new home. The paperwhite bulbs waited patiently on the front stoop… just waiting.
A month goes by.
I pass them every time I enter or exit the house–that means at least 3 times each day. I glance down at them. They look a little dried out, but are still alive, so I think to myself “I need to get those planted.”
Another month goes by with the poor things hanging out on the step.
Yet another month goes by.
At this point, Nate noticed that the bulbs turned green and began to sprout! Those hardy little things! So I dug up some dirt (Nate got some for me too), and I planted them. I put the pot by the carport in the front yard about a foot from the driver’s door of my vehicle.
I won’t forget to water them now! I’m keeping a close eye on the weather, though, so that I can bring them in before a frost.