Dirty knees! ...

... is what you get when you want to take pictures of crocuses.

I grew up in an area where bulbs were the livelihood of many people: most of my family was in one way or another linked to bulbs; my grandfather was a renowned 'ziekzoeker*' until well in his 80s and many of my uncles on both sides had their own bulb growing business, one of them even in South Africa.

In spring the Keukenhof would attract thousands (almost 900.000 in 2009 I heard) and provide work in the weeks it was open. Summer holidays were spend peeling bulbs, cleaning off dead skin, and they'd be sold or put back in the ground in autumn. You could say I have bulbs in my blood :)

When I moved to the US the first order of business was to plant crocuses, tulips and daffodils. The tulips are Dutch; I ordered them at a vendor at the Keukenhof before I moved and they arrived just in time for planting. Funnily enough, almost everything else that I bought here had the tag 'imported from Holland' on 'm anyway.

If the squirrels haven't dug up the bulbs, and if the deer don't eat the tulips, we'll have the Dutchiest house on the block. Or in the entire village :)




*a 'ziekzoeker' is someone who walks through the rows of tulips seeking out the diseased ones. My grandfather was the best. Bulb growers would drive from all over to get his opinion.