I have to confess that in years past, whenever I read a blog or heard a story about someone who hadn’t yet planted bulbs before it snowed or was otherwise unpleasant and quite late, I felt a tiny bit smug – and a lot relieved – that I had managed to get my bulbs in earlier. (It wasn’t ever much earlier though and my tulips were usually thrown in quick pits at dusk right before a nor’ easter or similarly soggy November weather event.) I’m not sure what happened this year but it seemed to come down forgetting that I even had bulbs to plant – 
mostly foster Allium ‘Hair’ from work, a handful of orphan King Alfred daffs and a found pocketful of October bridal-shower crocus in a coat I never wear. And last night, before we’ve even had a killing frost (what is up with the lateness of winter this year?), it snowed.
There’s nothing like the first wet snow to jazz this lazypants into action. Better-late-than-never I guess, today I finally threw cold uncoilable hoses into the shed with the last terracotta pots and porch chairs; harvested cabbage – miraculously non-rotten yet; and threw the bulbs, as usual, into quick pits. 
But like anyone else who has gone through this, I’ll just look forward to spring and chances are I’ll even get to feel slightly smug that plants grow despite my worst efforts.
Give it to me straight – how happy are you that you got your bulbs planted back when the weather was perfectly pleasant?
kristin green | trench manicure 
Haha ohhh I’m making conspiratory, embarrassed faces (and smiling at bulbs in the pocket :). I didn’t even try to plant bulbs this year! My shame is in not yet plunking the stock-potted hostas, etc., into the veg patch for winter, digging up the last dahlia tuber, or indeed planting the last of the tiny things that have been waiting in pots on the porch for their turn all year (and our freezes are plenty hard). Last Friday (partly sunny and 38) I spent a stolen hour plunking several 1-gallon perennials, into the hillside I’ve been “developing” too slowly. Two grasses got stuck where they’ll get sun and I’ll remember to find them proper homes next spring. I’m quite sure the same thing happened last late fall. Welcome to winter!
Thanks, Lynn – I’m glad to be in such good company! -kris
I’ll tell you what. I don’t know whether to put on my smug shoes or my idiot ones due to the fact that not only did I not get my bulbs planted, I didn’t buy any bulbs to begin with. And further, I don’t even have a spare trench to bury them in even if I had them…. dizzy yet?
When your bulbs bloom, you will have acquired an ample amount of bragging rights, for sure.
We’re getting our annual [it seems] arctic blast right now. The weather is definitely weird.
Grace, I can fully understand not buying bulbs since I didn’t either (they’re all foster children except for the pocket crocus) but no spare trenches? Come on! But then I do still have a lot of “lawn” that needs eradicating… -kris
Kris, I have a box of not cheap bulbs waiting to go into the ground….We don’t get snow cover, but the winter rains have begun and it won’t be fun digging in the wet sticky clay!
Next year I want a email from someone that reads…”Are you going to plant these?”
gail
Gail, It’s funny that the bulb companies just assume that all will be well. But I believe all will be well too even though if you’re getting this storm too, you’ll definitely have to do some mud slinging. (eeu.) -kris