Several weeks ago, the bloke remarked casually that it would be nice if we purchased some bulbs to plant in our back garden, so there would be a bit of colour there to cheer us up come the spring. I agreed.
A trip to a garden centre and a consultation with our gardener friend later, the bloke discovered a web shop where he could order bulbs at a great discount. He went a little mad. A few days later, 565 bulbs turned up. We spent the next three weekends creating, and digging compost into, several new flower beds so that we'd have someplace to plant them. As an afterthought, he bought two large amaryllis bulbs for the house, since we were going to have to wait months to appreciate the fruits of our labours.
The white began to flower two weeks ago. The red popped out on Wednesday. I've derived a quiet kind of winter pleasure from watching their luxuriant, velvety blooms evolve and then crumple into tissue-thin husks.