Heirloombulbgirl

Category: Heirloom Bulbs for the South

  • We’ve Broken Up…..

    “Not to brag, but I once had a compost pile that rivaled even the sexiest man alive. Sorry, Ladies. This compost was mine.”

    A few seasons ago, in the cool of the morning, I posted this sentiment on social media. On that wonderful Spring morning, I truly was in love with my compost pile. I had the world’s greatest compost pile, pulling out a whopping wheelbarrow of compost each week for my gardens.

    But not now.
    Not this pile.

    Not in the Texas Hill Country where it’s a dry, dusty, buggy, snake-filled, scorpion and hornet infused landscape of rock. This compost pile was a different relationship altogether. I have come to realize the unhealthy love for something refusing to give back needed to be let go.

    Let’s all face it….Gardening in the Hill Country is nothing short of miraculous. A girl has to wear big boots in our area to stomp out all nature’s garden-haters that naturally exist in and around the yard. Heck, I can’t even get a gopher to quit eating my roses Let alone all the other natural elements. So yesterday, I took a moment, in the 100 degree heat, and looked deep into the soul of my compost. I realized then and there that our relationship was one sided and I was through.

    Done.

    I broke up.

    No more pouring into the compost pile when I was getting nothing out.

    No more hours spent on nurturing something that remained dry and brittle.

    No more wasted time spent on reviving a relationship that was doomed from the beginning. Honestly, I don’t even think it tried.

    Sometimes it is good to see where your emotional energy goes. Is this relationship even reciprocal? Does the Compost even want to try to work things out? I think not. I have flipped and flipped, only to find a dusty end to my endeavor. There was no heart present. No sweet aroma of what once was….So I broke up.

    There will be many of you compost-lovers out there who will try to talk me back into my relationship. I know, I know. I’ve broken up with my compost piles in the past only to desperately try to work things out again.

    Not this time. I’m done. I’m going to go “cut and drop”, and work on disassembling the relationship.
    I feel good. I feel free. And I’m finally happy without my deadbeat compost pile.

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • The Love of Heirloom Bulbs

    This.

    The old paper.

    The old-style calligraphy.

    The old Latin text.

    The old botanical art.

    I love it all. I’ve always been drawn to antiquity, whether it is a flower, an old black and white photo, historic buildings or a page of music that my violin teacher’s teacher wrote upon in the early 1900’s. My love towards preserving the unseen or the forgotten has been a passion for as long as I can remember. Love can be manifested in many different ways. The love and preservation of the Heirloom Flower Bulb has been a deep-rooted passion since for as long as I can remember.

    My first taste of an Heirloom Bulb came literally in the form of a beautiful pink cabbage-petaled Peony. Peonies smelled intoxicatingly delicious, and well, yes… I licked the sap off those gorgeous flowers. Licking sap off the Peony is not recommended as peonies are poisonous. Children, like myself, are not meant to play “Bumblebee” with poisonous plants. In fact, I often tested my boundaries with the wild things by way of eating wild mushrooms, the neighbor’s raspberries, random flowers and lilacs. I loved all flowers, even the ones I ate, but I grew very fond of the old Peonies. It fascinated me that flower bulbs came back year after year, no matter what. As a child, this was nothing less than magical.

    Neighbors down the street noticed my love for flowers and poured their knowledge into me. Rabbi And Mrs. Horowitz greeted me at their front door with scissors and a vase. I suppose they knew that I would hack at their Heirloom Roses inappropriately if they didn’t teach me properly. I have such fond memories of their gentle ways, the beautiful rose garden in their backyard with heirloom rose cuttings that came from their own family members. Mrs. Horowitz took time sharing the stories of her roses and taught me, a young child, how to love and respect old plants. (I have tried to create a rose garden in their honor, but unfortunately the gophers have other plans). :/

    After the Peonies and the Horowitz Heirloom Rose Garden of my childhood, I became an Heirloom Iris addict. It wasn’t long after my family relocated to Colorado Springs that I found an abandoned Iris garden in the empty lot next to our house. My Dad and I spent hours unearthing the old fountain and Iris rhizomes that had been covered up after decades of neglect. A neighbor had told us that at the turn of the century, the gardens on West Cheyenne Mountain Road were eye-stoppers. The neighbor actually showed us an old black and white photo from the 1940’s of cars lined up to simply drive by the gardens. Rare black Iris were in abundance. We lived in that house just one year, but it was one of my favorite houses that I ever lived in. Years after we moved, I took my own little family by the old Cheyenne Mountain house in hopes of retrieving some historic Black Iris. Unfortunately, much to my great sadness, the gardens were bulldozed and the lovely lot became a common McMansion. I will always treasure those timeless moments of sitting on the ground with a hand shovel, gently unearthing the garden alongside my Dad.

    Fast forward to my early twenties. I was now in central Texas during Fall. Need I say more? It rained, and what seemed like overnight, Oxblood Lilies popped up all over town. I’ve never been the same since. Oxblood lilies seemed to grow wild where my in-laws lived, and I began to ask around about the red lilies growing everywhere.


    “Those are just weeds”

    “Well, can I dig up your weeds then?”

    “Help yourself”

    Thus started the first bulb dig 32 years ago this Fall. I’ve been digging ever since. I’ve salvaged a lot of old bulbs from homesteads and historic home teardowns. I’ve jumped barbed wire fences, been face-to-face with rattlesnakes, dug in the rain in front of bulldozers, broken more shovels than I care to admit and all the while…the Lord keeps whispering “Just Keep Digging”

    Honestly, I don’t even know why. My hands hurt, my body aches and I have countless thorns in my fingers on any given day….and I love every minute of it. 🙂

    We’ve all read “ To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” Heirloom Bulbs live that quote. They are worthy of every single “blood, sweat and tears” (and broken shovels) of bulb rescues.. Heirloom Bulbs will outlive your grandchildren’s grandchildren. This weekend, the Rockwall Master Gardeners are doing a very special class featuring Heirloom Bulbs. Chris Weisinger, from Southern Bulb Company, will be giving a presentation. You can purchase Heirloom Bulbs from them. A fantastic way to start your weekend!

    Happy Gardening, my friends!


  • Spiders in the Garden (part two)

    Fall in Texas is not defined simply by weather patterns. Fall in Texas is defined by the exquisite red blooms of the Oxblood Lily and the red Spider Lily. Few flower bulbs are as bold and vivacious as these flower bulbs are. These lilies are tough, surviving years of neglect, and provide a happy reminder of good times to come in the Southern garden.

    My first Spider Lily was found at our little home in Dallas. The lily grew in a crammed flower bed next to our sidewalk. I tried multiple times to retrieve the bulb, but I’d pull out only chunks of the bulb…only to have more Spiders in the garden the following year. The house was a 1950’s cottage style house of 1,100 square feet. People were a lot more content with simplicity back then, and cherished their flowers. The folks that lived in the house after the original owners let the garden beds go. The Spider Lilies were the only flowers that remained. I fell completely in love.

    Normally I am not drawn to “fancy”, but Spider Lilies are different. Their fanciness comes from a place of the heart. The bold flower is so vivid, it can be spotted from anywhere in the garden. One single Spider can rise tall and demand attention from onlookers, but humble enough to allow other flowers to bloom beautifully the rest of the year. Spiders aren’t like Bougainville, which take over the conversation. Spider Lilies are content to shine for a few weeks, then let others do the same. Spiders compliment other plants without stealing the joy.

    A single Spider is noteworthy, but I have found that flower bulbs do enjoy being a part of a family of bulbs. I always plant my flower bulbs together in groups of 5 or more, spaced loosely, but close enough for roots to touch. Spiders thrive planted in families. Spider lilies also enjoy afternoon shade, knowing that a Texas Summer is brutally hot. Protect your flower bulbs from the extreme elements. Planting native ground covers or gentle perennials are also helpful. More of under-planting and over-planting in subsequent blogs. For now, if you can get your hands on some Spiders, they are a great addition to any garden. Try Southern Bulb Company, Old House Gardens or the Tyler or Rockwall Master Gardener Bulb Sales. All great choices 🙂

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • Turning Graves into Gardens. Flood Relief Fundraiser with Heirloom Oxblood Lilies

    Turning Graves into Gardens…

    The last week and a half have been beyond any words.
    I honestly have nothing. There are simply not enough sentiments to express the sorrow of the loss of children and families during the devastating flash floods in the Texas Hill Country. The damage is overwhelming, but the loss of life is gut-wrenching. God promises that He will turn “mourning into dancing” and “Graves into Gardens”, as I was reminded by my student Malaya’s father. Malaya helped save her siblings from their van that was swept into the water, but unfortunately, she didn’t make it.

    Turn mourning into dancing? Graves into Gardens?
    How is that even possible? As a mother, I could not imagine that there would ever be a day that I could dance again. But time is nothing to God. God dwells in the eternal. He sees the lives touched by the last moments of goodness. He sees beyond. He sees the light of those that have been brought to literally to millions. It’s hard to fathom, but Faith must to step in and carry our heartbreak for us.

    Faith is there to pick us up when we fall on our faces in grief.

    Faith is there to guide us when we can’t move forward.

    Faith is there to gently encourage our broken hearts.


    There is no answer to the age old question..Why? Why do bad things happen to good people, and why do good things happen to bad people? Why do children get hurt? Why the pain and destruction of this world? I cling to the promises of the Lord. There will be a day where there is no more sorrow, no more tears, no more pain and no more heartbreak. The lion will lie down with the lamb and be at peace.

    Until that day, we carry on. We do what we can for our neighbor, and we love God through the high moments of life, and through the lowest of lows. We have no words, only acts of random bits of kindness and comfort.

    I don’t have much, but I do have flower bulbs. I’m offering a sweet family of Oxblood Lilies, in honor of my student Malaya Hammond, with 100% donation going to families affected by the devastating floods. I know three families personally, as well as the loss of Malaya, a beloved viola student. You can purchase bulbs on Etsy, contact me by email, or reach out to me somehow. All proceeds (after shipping/fees) will go directly to donation. I’ve been using Venmo, with a picture receipt for each donation. There is a children’s grief camp, Ark, an organization that helped us during the 2018 flood. Ark is mucking out houses and providing housing, clothes, furniture etc at no cost, as well as the individual families I’ve mentioned. Thus far, Heirloombulbgirl has raised over $900 and has already sent it on out to families!
    Thank you to every who already ordered and “planted joy” in the midst of sorrow. We are called to make the world a better place, and to be the “light on the hill”….Malaya, your sweet soul lived that.
    For more information, please feel free to email Heirloombulbgirl@gamil.com

    with love, Keenan

  • A Crinum Named Ellen

    Ah, Miss Ellen Bosenquat. What a lovely name for an even lovelier flower bulb. When all the other summer flowers are laying limp on the garden floor, Ellen rises up after a little rain and stately declares “All eyes on me!” Ellen steals the show every time. She is a bright, striking shade of dark pink and is definitely a Crinum worthy of catching. This month I’ve decided to showcase each wonderful Crinum. Ellen screamed pink the loudest, so she is featured first.

    Ellen Bosenquat Crinum, as with all Crinum, are extremely low maintenance, and easy flower bulbs to grow. These old-time flowers will flourish in your summer garden long beyond your years in the garden. My favorite fun fact about Heirloom Bulbs is that they will outgrow your children’s Grandchildren. In fact, I lay awake at night wondering what I’m going to do with all these beloved bulbs. Heirloom Bulbs just keep growing, growing and growing…..multiplying like rabbits, while I keep growing older, achier and tired! Bulb gardening with large bulbs like Ellen Bosenquat is like having a cute little petting zoo with elephants. If I’m not careful, Crinum will soon eat the studio for an afternoon snack.

    Ellen is a hearty bloomer and is currently showing her stuff in Southern gardens everywhere. I enjoy planting my Crinum in places near Paperwhites, which are dormant in the summer. I also whimsical wildflowers to grow near the larger bulbs for a nice texture, as well as Frog Fruit, and other native ground covers to spread out around the bulbs. Another wonderful attribute of Crinum is the shade they supply to the ground where spring bulbs can be co-planted, just remember where you plant your bulbs so they won’t get lost in a sea of Crinum.

    It’s June. A beautiful time of year for Ellen. May your gardens scream pink as loud as Ellen does. There are plans in the works for a monthly “pop-up” shop at the Agape Haus Studio and Garden. Heirloom Bulbs, natives, wildflower seeds, vintage china and flower pots will all be available. The first “pop up” sale will be over Labor Day Weekend. Limited large blooming Crinum will also be sold….including Ellen. Details to come. 🙂
    Happy Gardening, my friends!


  • Crinum…The Queen of the South

    Few flower bulbs stop a person in their tracks quite like a Crinum. These flowers are bold, passionate, unique, showy and intoxicating. I find myself unable to even write due to the sheer amount of time I’ve spent in the garden Crinum-gazing (and weeding!). There are simply no words to convey the true beauty of an Crinum, so I’ve decided to use this little blog as a picturesque look at the Southern garden in early summer. Crinum bloom joyfully throughout the summer after a nice rainfall. Some Crinum even produce hearty seed pods to collect and share with fellow gardeners and friends. There are hundreds upon hundreds of different varieties of Crinum. I mainly grow old “found” Crinum, rescued or salvaged from teardowns, so the pictures I’ve chosen to showcase are all collected or gifted to me by fellow gardeners. Enjoy your photo-walk through my garden with the Queen of the South…Heirloom Crinum.

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

    for more information on Crinum, please email me at heirloombulbgirl@gmail.com 🙂

  • Restoration Complete

    This is the year of restoration.
    This is the year that the gardens won. The wildflowers beat the odds, through drought and early heat, and still flowered on. The beauty of the meadow has finally appeared, and the wildflower seeds that were collected and sowed last year have begun to flourish. After 10 long years of grueling sticker-thorn and weed pulling, the land has be *finally* been restored. By no means is my job tending this incredible little “Garden of Eden” over. Now I get to step off the hustle-bus and simply enjoy the garden’s beauty within itself.

    No more hauling rock.

    No more digging out garbage.

    No more pulling out a bucket of daily thorns.

    No more chopping down invasive trees.

    No more tearing down a drug-house eye soar.

    No more digging endless stone out of the earth.

    No more hauling countless Heirloom Bulbs from the flooded house.

    No more tears over lost beloved plants during times of drought.

    Restoration complete.

    Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of compost to be continually hauled, straw to lay out, veggies to tend, poppy heads to dry, tomatoes to pick, Heirloom Bulbs to dig, plants to muddle around with and weeds to tend to…but the beauty of restoration after 10 long years is complete. (I detailed more of the restoration process in a blog titled The Fallow Ground, in case anyone is interested in the process of land restoration)

    *breathe*

    *exhale*

    God is good.

    HAPPY Gardening, my friends!

  • The Heirloom Garden

    When I started gardening, I never intended to become an “heirloom gardener”. It just somehow happened. I became drawn to the history. The story behind the flower. My early years were spent in Rabi and Mrs. Horowitz’s rose garden. The rose arbor in the tiny backyard was magical, and each rose had a special story attached to it. I was hooked. I’m not sure whether it was the inherent beauty of timeless flowers, the uniqueness of each flower story, or the simple fact that my mind could wander and question endlessly about the past. Feeling “rooted” to past traditions is important and vital, especially in our quick, throw-away society. Heirloom gardens preserve the past for the future of tomorrow’s gardeners.

    Heirloom, by definition, is “something of special value handed down from one generation to another.” In plant talk, an heirloom is “a variety of plant that has originated under cultivation and has survived for several generations usually due to efforts of private individuals.” Mike Bollinger, executive director for Seed Savers Exchange (a non-profit focusing on stewardship and education around heirlooms) had a great explanation for what Heirlooms truly were in Cooks Magazine. “Heirlooms tell stories from the past that may have been lost if it were not for their existence.” Heirloom plants are in “contrast to modern cultivators used in large-scale agriculture”. You might say that heirloom farmers are dedicated in maintaining a lifestyle their Grandparents or even Great-Grandparents had. I find the idea of growing a flower bulb that was deeply loved by someone who lived at the turn of the 20th century utterly fascinating. There is simply no substitute. So how does one go about creating an heirloom garden? For me, it’s all about preserving the gardener’s story.

    Here are a few very practical ways to start an heirloom garden…

    *Join an old-fashioned garden society or garden club. You will learn a lot of gardening wisdom from older generations of gardeners. You will also be able to drink tea and listen to some fantastic stories. A lot of garden clubs host plant or seed swaps. This is a wonderful way to hear about “Mema’s Yellow Iris” or “Aunt Thelma’s Daffodil”.

    *Visit the older part of your town and become friends with the folks with beautiful gardens. Gardeners love to talk about their flowers. Don’t be afraid to compliment a stranger with beautiful Daylilies or gorgeous old roses….he might just spontaneously dig a special flower up just for you.

    *Invest in some flower bulbs or antique roses from notable sources who invest their time in preserving heirloom plants. A few of my favorites are Old House Gardens, Southern Bulb Company, Seed Saver Exchange and the Antique Rose Emporium. Great folks with amazing selections of charming old-fashioned flowers.


    Heirloom gardens aren’t flashy, nor do they keep up with the last trends in garden culture. Heirlooms feature the past and quiet ways of a lifestyle long gone. Unrushed and simple. Moment to moment savored by the stillness of the garden. I walk through my gardens each day, with gentle remembrances all around….my husband’s Grandmother’s Iris, Danish bulbs passed along, gardening friends’ Snowflakes, Byzantine Gladiolus, Daffodils and Iris, my in-laws’ original “William Allen land grant Iris”, my Franklin Iris that traveled from England in the mid 1800s that settled on a Texas ranch that shared the land with Native Americans, and tear-downs saved like the beloved Oxblood Lilies, Spider Lilies and Crinum of Miss Margaret and Eugenia. The cherished list of heirloom flowers in my beloved gardens with a story attached goes on and on. I only wish I had a cutting of Rabi and Mrs. Horowitz’s rose garden, but their memory is rooted in every Antique Rose I have.

    There are two types of flowers…quick color that lasts a season and heirlooms that will out-live your Grandchildren’s Grandchildren. I pick the latter.

    Every.

    Single.

    Time.

    Happy Heirloom Gardening, my friends!

  • Old Churches, Cool Fences and Snowdrops with Snakes! Oh My!

    One of my all-time favorite places to dig is in the small, rural town where my in-laws live. I am always amazed at the unbelievable amount of flower bulbs that grow in this area of Texas. Even throughout remote alleys, filled with cluttered debris, Oxblood Lilies and Narcissus grow wild. The sandy loam is perfect, the trees are grand and my salivating glands go in hyper drive while driving around looking for demolished houses with unwanted bulbs. Typically, it’s an adult scavenger hunt…

    ”Excuse me…do you happen to know who owns this property?”

    ”My nephew’s Father’s brother, who is in prison, owns the house. But he don’t care about them flowers.”

    ”Oh yes. I remember Miss Margaret quite well. I saw her every day when I walked by. She sure did love her flowers. I miss seeing her smiling face after the fire.”

    ”Eugenia lived in that old house until she was 90. It was her parents who planted the original gardens.”

    ”The lady who lived there passed away years ago, and the house is scheduled for demo. She loved those Snowdrops. You should take some. No one will mind.”

    So I did. Gratefully.

    There is something about saving the flowers from these old homesteads that preserves the memory of the gardener. In some way, it feels like preserving their legacy. I do hope that one day, the flowers that I have pulled from these old homesteads will continue to live on in other gardens.

    This past weekend, my husband joined me on a rare “spousal” scavenger hunt. I had spotted some very old Victorian wrought iron fencing that had been ripped up and discarded into a brush pile. (I know! I couldn’t believe it either!) We went through four people to finally locate the owner of the empty lot. We finally found “Bobby” at a convenience store. We asked him about the fencing and he looked at us like we were crazy.

    “The stuff in the trash?” Yes.

    Then, my husband being the superstar that he is, asked if I could also dig some flower bulbs near the brush pile. (Again, crazy)

    ”Sure. Take them all.”

    Somehow we wrangled the 17 foot iron fencing panels into the trailer. I started walking around the brush to start digging and a snake slithered near my flip flop. After all these years, I still don’t dress appropriately for digging. You’d think I would learn. I offered my Mother-in-Law some of the fencing, which she said an unfortunate “Yes!” 🙂

    It was a very good weekend. The old church still remains. Someday, I might drive by, the same way I have for the past 30 years, and find that it has fallen down. I certainly hope that the community will step in and restore it to its former glory. Until then, I will continue to just keep digging, and tell the
    stories of old gardeners who once loved their old gardens.

    Happy Gardening, my friends.


  • The Moment Defined

    There are moments in life that define us, for the better or for the worse.
    Moments that change everything in us and all around us. The moments I have seen in the devastating fires of California have flooded my thoughts. I can’t seem to look away. I understand all too well the complete and utter loss of “losing everything” in a single moment. There are no words.

    I see them.

    I hear them.

    I know them.

    I remember standing in line at the Red Cross on the morning after, with all the other “flood victims” (as we were politely referred to). An older woman standing in front of me had been visibly shaken. I found myself trying to comfort her. She sobbed and talked, and I simply listened. She told me about the boat rescue, the 7 inches of water that flooded her house and her fear of the water that came up so fast. She finally took a breath, looked up at me and asked “So what happened to you? How much water did you have in your house?”

    “Seven feet of water in less than 10 minutes.”

    She said nothing but just stared at me, as if to apologize for her own “lesser-than” trauma. I smiled, hugged her and said
    “There is no measurement of loss. It’s all the same.”

    Right then and there, I learned a very important life lesson….Loss is loss. Trauma is trauma. There is not a measurement of trauma as if “Mine is worse than yours”. Trauma holds no competition and takes no winners. We are all in the same boat together. Each one of us has our own story, but what we do *after* that defining moment is what truly matters. Will we let bitterness set in? Will we become callus or envious? Will we become trauma “victims” or trauma “survivors”? I do admit, standing in the pouring rain with only the clothes on our backs was a very humbling experience. Where was I going to get clean and dry panties? (A real-life concern) How could I comfort my family when I, myself was going through so much? Where would we even live? How can one simply start over and rebuild from scratch? All overwhelming thoughts, so all I could do is live moment to moment, salvaging anything I could. I poured into salvaging my gardens, digging bulbs at the “flooded house” every single day. The gardens saved my sanity.

    One day, as I walked along what-used-to-be my beloved “Garden of Eden”, I looked down and saw my Grandmother’s broken china with her Bible memory verse “The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want.” It was that moment, out of all my moments, defined me…

    Everything I had lost, He would provide.
    Everything I needed, He would provide.
    Everything I wanted, He would provide.

    I had been over and over those gardens for months, salvaging bulbs, but somehow I missed that little treasure. Maybe I hadn’t been ready to fully rely on the Lord’s provision the way sheep rely on their shepherd. Maybe I was looking for comfort in the wrong place or maybe I was just too caught up in my own minutia of trying to rebuild. Whatever the reason, I found my moment.

    ”The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake.

    Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. For You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

    You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies, You anoint my head with oil, my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23

    If anyone has specific loss that you’d like prayer for, feel free to email me… heirloombulbgirl@gmail.com I don’t have all the answers, but I’ve walked through this walk and there is hope on the other side.

    If you know friends or family members who lost everything…give gift cards or Venmo for a great starting place. Be listeners not fixers. Be present through their grief and allow them time to process the loss. Their lives will never be the same, but may we all be defined in the moments after…relying fully and completely on The Good Shepherd.

    Ps….Oxblood Lilies will be shipped out to anyone who is starting over, at no cost, When you are ready, your “Redemption Lily” will be ready for you.
    Happy Gardening, my friends.