I must admit, I do not understand the obsessive fascination with Galanthus. As I typically do, let me preface this message: I find snowdrops utterly delightful little plants; perfectly charming harbingers of spring (and an autumn one or two), what's not to like about them? But when we get right down to it, these little "snow dumplings" are white white white, with a dab of green. How many variations of white with green markings can there be? Apparently thousands. Should they all be named? Maybe, maybe not; but if it brings considerable enjoyment to Galanthophiles, then so be it. When I observe photos of myriad named snowdrops, many at exorbitant high price, to my eye there's a niveous sameness to so many of them, I can hardly tell them apart, insufficient distinction to pry even a few dollars out of my wallet if they were available. Now, I certainly wouldn't mind having one of the so-called yellow galanthus (yellowish peduncles and yellowish markings on the white petals), but even so, wouldn't pay much for it, I don't suppose I'll ever have one. Now if only there were Galanthus with pink flowers, or any color other than white and green. If I were to spring $50 for a plant, would much rather buy one of the newer Cypripedium hybrids that come in a fascinating array of colors and rich markings. Long and short of it, I don't think Galathomania will catch on in the US; there will of course be dedicated followers of the genus here, but no where close to the fervent popularity it enjoys in the UK and elsewhere in Europe. Mark McDonough antennaria@charter.net Massachusetts, USDA Zone 5