Tulips with a grain of salt

 Leslie has pots of them on her porch. Her favorite flower, her husband planted 400 this year. Guys, are you listening? Way to a woman's heart, right there. Pay attention. There will be a quiz.

Liz has tulips in the most stunning color. I'd love a dress this color. Or a car. Or a snuggly sweater.

Eleanor taught me to plant tulips almost touching in a pot. She taught me a lot about gardens. I miss her.

I thought the dog would keep the squirrels away from the tulips. I didn't know she'd dig them out of the pots and eat them. Still, despite her snacking they turned out pretty well.

I love the insides...

In pots they last a lot longer than cut flowers do. But our tulips don't repeat well in the garden.

An expert once told me tulips need baking summer heat to bloom, not cold as we've all been told. I didn't ask her why my friends in colder climates have tulips that come back every year. Didn't occur to me to question this strident person. She's the expert, right?

She said in Holland they dig up the tulips and bake them in ovens so they will rebloom. So naturally when we were in Holland for tulip time a few years ago, I asked about this. When the tulip grower finally finished laughing, (and saying things in Dutch and pointing at me, and laughing some more), he told me no. No way. Not. Then he laughed some more.

The lessons?  Take everything with a grain of salt. Just because a supposed expert says it doesn't mean it's true. Be prepared for ridicule when you ask questions. And keep asking. How else will you figure things out?

Dividing Iris

The best advice I got about iris was to divide them between the fourth of July and Labor Day. I procrastinate (as you know if you've read the chapter I Don't Want It Perfect I Want It Tuesday in my book. So I am dividing iris. Probably won't finish by Labor Day but oh well.

They start out looking like this:

the garden's version of a bad hair day. I slide a spade next to them and lever them out of the ground - 

then I pull them apart, keeping the healthy plump roots with a fan of leaves attached. Wrinkled up roots like this:

get thrown away. Only fat plump rhizomes (the brown part) with a good fan of leaves (the green part) or a fat white bud that will turn into a clump of leaves (you'll know it when you see it) get saved.

I cut the leaves back to about a foot, and because the place where you break the roots apart is moist and susceptible to all sorts of fungal and insect invasion, I leave them to dry for an hour or so. Then I plant.

 This is what they look like when they have been divided.I space them about a foot apart with the leaf fans facing out. Not too deep please - they will rot. The rhizome should be just covered with soil.

 You can see which way they will grow - don't point them at each other. Think siblings and keep them from squabbling over space.

A generous dusting of fertilizer on top, a deep soak, then leave them alone. They are tough, they do best in full sun and not too much water. I prefer all one color massed in a bed - I hate that spotty look. But it's your garden, so if you're into spots, knock yourself out.

This one is Victoria Falls and it re-blooms. I am looking for a photo. Last year I had iris to cut for the table at Thanksgiving. This year? We'll see.

Amaryllis

You're supposed to be ordering them now, planting in October for blooms at Christmas. But nobody told Shirley...or her amaryllis.

It's left over from a Christmas gift last year (you're welcome) and it did this all by itself. Check out John Scheepers for bulbs. And yes, Shirley, you have a green thumb.

Dividing bulbs in the green

It's sad but true - if it's blooming and beautiful in someone else's garden it's probably too late to plant it in your garden. Like these sweet peas I cut this morning...

They are filling my house with the sweet smell of early summer. I have a small bunch by my bed, and when I wake up at 3 a.m. their soft sweet fragrance lulls me back to sleep. They will give up in the mid-summer heat, but right now they are fabulous.  I plant them in the fall as our winters are mild. They pout all winter, I have to protect them from snails and slugs and birds. They look awful. And them one day they zoom up to the top of their wire cages and fling great out armfulls of gorgeous scented flowers. 

Speaking of planting, bulb catalogues have been arriving. Have you noticed they come earlier every year? My favorites are John Scheepers and Van Engelen. Same company, different quantities. And as last year's daffodils in pots on the back steps have not died down yet, I am dividing in the green.

First dump the bulbs out - I use a big plastic tub so the potting soil doesn't get everywhere.

Then pull the bulbs apart, being careful not to rip off the roots or the still green tops.

When you're done each bulb should look something like this:

Now plant them in a sunny spot. The rule of thumb for planting bulbs is that they should be three times as deep as the diameter of the bulb. No one seems to know whether the top or the bottom of the bulb should be three times as deep. After all these years of gardening I'm not sure it makes a lot of difference - they seem to grow no mater what I do to them. Oh, roots down and leaves up please. And wait for the leaves to wither completely before you remove them - they should come off with a gentle tug. If they don't, wait. Those green leaves are feeding the bulb so it can bloom next year.

When you're done, reward yourself by cutting some roses. Put them where you'll see them as you dash around during the day. And smell them. It only takes a few minutes to cut some flowers, and it's a lot more fun than unloading the dishwasher. Or changing the laundry. Those will be there later, the flowers may not. Treat yourself - you deserve it.