I printed out the nomenclature update from the RHS site to which David Nicholson and Jim Waddick directed us. It includes both the Fernandes Casas classification that is rejected in large part by some British botanists, and references to names in Michael Salmon's (Monocot Nursery) catalogs, which are derived in large part from the Spanish classification. I grew a lot of my Narcissus from seed purchased from Monocot, so I'll go back and match my database with the references in this list and see what I come up with. The RHS list reflects a "lumping" approach that results in very long names -- a lot of work to switch out my embossed metal labels, I'm sure. In any case, at least where the Bulbocodium section and the various forms of N. rupicola are concerned, we should be cautious in labeling seed-grown plants, since in a mixed collection like mine they hybridize within sections quite a lot. When I moved my collection this summer I sifted through tons of plunge sand in the frames and rescued as many as I could find of the volunteer bulbs that had grown between the pots over the years. I planted them at random in sand on a steep bank where my rock garden will be, and under sod on a gentle slope. As I write, a couple of the hoop petticoat narcissi are in flower in the sand. One is apparently N. romieuxii, and the other appears to be a hybrid romieuxii x cantabricus. The latter flower is unusual because it's two flowers partially fused. This feature usually doesn't repeat from year to year in the many kinds of plants in which it can occur. Considering the mistreatment these bulbs received in the course of my move, it's amazing they're even alive, much less flowering. Both the rock garden and the newly laid sod will have "all sorts" in them thanks to the Bulb Frame Volunteers. The presence of my dogs seems to be keeping the squirrels away, and there are no voles or gophers here. Already I see Crocus minimus, Crocus gargaricus, and C. sieberi in bloom, and lower down in the turf area I planted several hundred bulbs of Narcissus obvallaris, dug from an area of rough grass in my former garden. It has kept its name though at times it's been regarded as N. pseudonarcissus; perhaps the British botanists had a soft spot for their only native species. The dozen bulbs I started with 25 years ago formed large colonies in pasture grass that was sometimes inundated in winter and got very dry in summer. There were also seedlings downstream of the large clumps, which interested me because some writers claim this species does not self-sow. The seedlings eventually flowered and appeared identical to the N. obvallaris, which blooms for me well before any large hybrid daffodils do -- in February even up in the Cascade foothills. Jane McGary Portland, Oregon, USA