November 14, 2007 Saturday. My day with Don Quixote. Unfortunately, it wasn't the stuff of chivalry or gallant knights. My only glimpse of the Spanish knight was his name spelled out on the bag of 100 tulip bulbs I stared at on my picnic table at 8 a.m.
After about ten minutes, I was ready to be swept off my feet by the Man of La Mancha, but that wouldn't have been too noble on my part since I mired myself in this project. Just like the well-meaning character in Cervantes' novel, had I let too many glossy magazine covers make me think the impossible was possible?
'Facts are the enemy of truth,' Don Quixote says.
The facts in this case—all 100 of them—were in my hands...when they weren't in the dog's mouth. As a person who likes symmetry and order, I knew the end result—a sea of pink in May—would make my structured heart happy. Much better than the handful of this and that bulbs that gave a meager amount of color in the drab spring.
After lots of hemming and hawing, counting and re-counting, it was done. Well, about 76 of them were sunk in the ground. So that means, I'll have to schedule another date with the Don.
I'm still not sure why this variety of flower earned such a moniker. I can't see your typical knight favoring the color pink, but then again, Don Quixote wasn't all that typical.
I don't know if back rubs fall under acts of chivalry, but I sure could have used one!