There is not a lot of glamour in a spontaneous dig such as this. Actually, there is no glamour. It’s gross and dirty. Like my Mother, I worry about random snakes and spiders. When I unknowingly spot tear-downs, I am typically on my way somewhere important…dressed up for a concert, rehearsal or a wedding. Obviously without a shovel.
This week, on my way to a Palm Sunday rehearsal, I noticed the bulldozer. The beautiful daffodil bed had already been flattened. After rehearsal (around 10 pm), I pulled up the loose bulbs out of the rubble. I was tired, but simply couldn’t imagine letting the bulbs dry up and die on the ground. I went by the old house the very next morning with a shovel, gloves and a few bags. I loaded up three bags full of very old daffodil bulbs, got them watered and placed them in a barn to rest.
House tear-downs always make me sad. No matter how delapitated a house is, there is something inside my heart that wants to save it. I want things to stay exactly the way they always were. I want old picket fences, my Grandparents’ way of life and pass-along plants. I suppose I inherited my Dad’s love of old architecture and all the nostalgia that goes along with it.
The old daffodil house had been run down for a long time. I was fortunate enough to meet the original owner’s son many moons ago. I was given permission to salvage some of the daffodils, as the house itself had an unknown future. I was happy to oblige and later shared daffodils with friends.
There was nothing monumental in this dig. The world wasn’t changed and cancer wasn’t cured. I didn’t even reinvent the wheel. I didn’t hop fences or rip my jeans on barbed-wire. There were no rattlesnakes, no exciting details or I didn’t even dig up cool, rare flower bulbs. This was just an average dig to save some very old (and common) daffodil bulbs. I chronicle digs (no matter how glam) with pictures. I like to have evidence that once upon a time, a gardener lived at an old house and loved her flowers. After all, we are all just caretakers of our gardens and stewards of the Lord’s creation.
Ah….Just look at that gorgeous flower! The Queen of the Southern garden! She rests most of the year, and shines in full glory when it’s her season to bloom. Her bulbs are big and her blooms are stunning. There is not a single flower in my garden that can out-perform a Crinum.
To be honest, I wasn’t expecting any of my Crinum to bloom in early March. The weather in Texas is still quite undecided. Within a single week, gardeners can experience a nice spring afternoon, a hot summer sweat-fest or a crisp 33 degree winter day. Somehow, flower bulbs know when it’s their turn to bloom. I find this impressive because I typically can’t even find appropriate clothes to wear for each new Texas day. Texas weather is a mystery, just like my husband’s golf game. Crinum are a lot more secure in their glory and worry-not about the weather or their short game.
There are countless varieties of Crinum. I have found that only Crinum experts can really decipher the slight differences between each variety. I am not an expert at anything except annoying my husband (world champion) and losing my studio key (I climb through the window at least once a week). I am the first to admit that I have no clue what the proper names of the Crinum in my garden. Most of my Crinum came from old homestead tear-downs, or they have been given as gifts. Over the years, I have researched and read up on Crinum, but I still feel a sense of insecurity with the subtle differences. Instead, I have my Crinum marked with descriptors such as “Early Bloom Milk & Wine” or “Pale Petite Milk & Wine”. Most of the Crinum I grow are varieties of Milk & Wine, I also enjoy Ellen Bosenquat, Alba and many other unique unknowns.
If you desire to create a Crinum garden from scratch, it is advisable to find some Crinum seed pods and start the germination process. Since mature Crinum bulbs can be upwards to $75.00, finding fellow gardeners to share seed pods is quite helpful to the ‘ol pocketbook. One of those “fellow gardeners” is the creative writer of this little blog. I have more little Crinum bulbs than I know what to do with. I’m happy to send you a few Crinum bulbs to start your garden out. I have about 300 young Crinum that were started from an old Milk & Wine variety 3 years ago. They will grow into blooming size in a few years, with love and care. Crinum are like children…long-term investments, but each new season is wonderful.
Happy Gardening, my friends! Feel free to reach out if you’d like some Crinum. 🙂
Many moons ago, I had chickens, pigeons and ducks at my little music studio. A little unorthodox, but children loved it. Early on, before the gardens were planted at the Agape Haus, the fowl were the ones who told the stories. I had chickens raising ducks and a pigeon who believed I was his soul mate. It was so cool to drive up to the studio each morning, greeted by a pigeon who actually recognized my car, and flew to me. The children at the studio felt like the Agape Haus belonged in a Disney movie.
Then there was a little Momma pigeon, Penelope, who loved to take over chicken nests. I’m not sure why she didn’t just hatch her own eggs, but each day I had to pull chicken eggs out from under her. The chickens typically laid eggs in strange places, even though there were plenty of nesting boxes.
A few weeks went by and I hadn’t seen Penelope sitting on a chicken nest.
“Finally! She’s moved on!”
Then one day, I walked into the coop and heard chirping. I looked around and couldn’t see a hen in sight, or the baby chick for that matter. I looked up into the rafters and..what in the world?
Sweet Penelope Pigeon actually hatched a baby chick!
Penelope not only hatched a chicken egg, but somehow fed the little chick with pigeon milk. The beautiful baby chick was over a week old, completely fat and happy. I had seen a lot of things with pigeons and chickens, but never did I imagine something like this. I carefully lifted the baby chick out of the rafters, away from her foster pigeon momma. I knew that Penelope would soon start flying lessons, which would not end well for the chick. I found a chicken with a new clutch that graciously accepted the baby chick as her own. To this day, I’ve never seen a fatter baby chick.
Penelope did eventually go on and raise two beautiful baby pigeons, but only after more chicken nest experiences. Raising up the next generation is certainly one of the most noble ambitions anyone can have.
Motherhood is beautiful, even for a Pigeon named Penelope.
I’m completely obsessed. I finally found some plant markers that are cute, economical AND gopher-proof. (I’d like to see those little rats try to eat these markers). After marking 200 native plants and heirloom bulbs, I realized I greatly low-balled the Amazon order. I really need 20,000 plant markers. In less than a week, I’ve become a plant marking fool. My newest garden obsession is to mark EVERY SINGLE PLANT in the garden.
Garden obsessions are not new to me. Oh no, quite the contrary. I’m like a Forest Gump when he is first shown a “ping pong” ball. I get completely locked in. I go after my newest and latest gardening obsession like a starved dog that attacks a bone. I’m all in. If I have spotted an old teardown with a bulldozer near by, I will dig the bulbs in the pouring rain until every last bulb has been saved. If I decide to move rock to line pathways, then I move literally every single rock on my entire property. Later, if I decide I don’t like rocks on the pathway, I obsessively move all the rocks back to who knows where (just off the pathway) in record time, I might add. Unfortunately, garden obsessions are not synonymous with common sense. I’m hoping the new plant markers will bring a level of garden mainstay.
Garden obsessions can be very helpful, especially since gardens are seasonal. If we behave like garden-slugs, and don’t complete our gardening “to-do” list, sweet seasonal rewards are missed. If wait too long to get our potatoes in the ground, then we reap no potatoes. If we wait too long to sow wildflower seeds, then we reap no Spring color. If we wait to plant a Live Oak Tree, then our grand-children will have no shade to play under. Garden obsessions get the garden chores completed in the season you are currently in. There is no “Tomorrowland” in gardening. Seasons wait for no one. The train has left the station, and you are either taking a beautiful ride or you are left behind in the dust.
And that, my friends, is why it is nice to have a little healthy garden obsession. I prefer to ride the ride. I want to eat fresh potatoes and have wildflowers bloom in my butterfly habitat. I want beautiful pathways with plants and bulbs outlined in pretty rock circles. I want all my plant babies labeled and cared for. And I want the gophers to go somewhere deep down in the center of the earth, with fire and brimstone. Too much?
Happy Gardening, my friends. It is time to get locked in.. Spring is coming! What is YOUR newest garden obsession? Send me a message and I will send you a little package of my favorite bulb..the Oxblood Lily 🙂
A fairly unknown fact is that I once had a rose garden that was featured in a 3 page article in the Dallas Morning News Garden Section. True story! I absolutely adore Antique Roses. My Dallas garden was home to over 43 beloved Antique Rose Bushes, intermingled with fabulous Heirloom Bulbs. It was my joy. My little neighborhood watched the garden transformation through all three of my pregnancies. My husband was often questioned by neighbors if I really should be jumping on a shovel at 9 months pregnant in the heat of August. Those were good rose-growing times! Fresh flower bouquets of big and fluffy cabbage-style rose blooms. Children learning about the different varieties of Antique Roses, and my husband losing all control over his front yard grass.
I now live in the Texas Hill Country (enough said). Over the last decade, I have tried to grow over 40 bushes in the gopher-infested land. All I did was create a gopher buffet. It’s not *if* they will eat my roses, but when. The gophers have wiped out every single rose bush I have planted…except one. Not great odds are in my favor. I’ve tried everything, and I mean everything. I even have a useless barn cat.
This last week, I have stepped up my gopher-game. With a little click on Amazon, I ordered a nice supply of wire mesh gopher baskets. I had no idea gopher baskets were even a thing. Why didn’t someone tell me I didn’t have to make my own out of cut chicken wire?!! I’m quickly learning that Amazon is like Christmas every morning. The baskets arrived yesterday and I’m SO EXCITED! I have 5 bushes, saved in the nick of time, currently resting and regrowing roots in terracotta pots. Before Spring hits, I plan to basket up all the roses and the nice, young specimen plants I’ve recently planted. I will have to re-dig and re-plant. Typical.
I also plan to basket up many of my bulbs. Gophers enjoy eating the roots of Spider Lilies, but will leave the Oxbloods alone. (Oxbloods are supposed to be toxic).
With the water well and the gopher baskets, it will be SO enjoyable to watch the gardens finally take root. I often tell folks that gardening is like learning music, it is a journey not a race. But it’s also nice to see a completed garden project. A job well done is quite satisfying.
I wonder if I will ever experience the thrill of a finished project? Take a look at my gardens and you will quickly find out the answer! 🙂
There are a lot of meaningful endeavors in life, but saving Miss Margaret’s gardens is definitely one of my favorites. I’m honestly not sure why I’m so passionate about old flower bulbs, but the only way to explain it is that it’s in my blood. My Dad loved old architecture and old photos. As a child, my Dad instilled a profound understanding of preservation. A deep desire to save something that will be lost. When I see bulb foliage, there’s a sudden urgency to hop barbed wired fences with a shovel. My son even bought me a mini shovel to carry around in my car. I must admit, my little digging passion is just weird. I can’t explain it. I’m just compelled to hop that fence. I feel like an addict, desperately seeking my next fix of old rotting houses and “No Trespassing” signs. If I had a dollar for every time my family told me “We aren’t bailing you out of jail” I’d be rich. There are countless reasons why I shouldn’t do what I do, and only one reason why I should….the beautiful 100 year old Oxblood Lily bulb that I’m holding in my hand.
She survived the Great Depression.
She survived World War 1 and World War 2.
She survived floods.
She survived drought.
She survived decades of love and care.
She survived decades of neglect.
She is a worthy preservation project indeed! It is hard to imagine the changing landscape that little bulb experienced over her last 100 plus years. Even if, for no other reason than antiquity, that flower bulb deserved to be saved.
Just look at Miss Margaret’s lovely Oxbloods! Happy, healthy and preserved for generations to come.
What became of Miss Margaret’s gardens? Well, that is a sad story for another day. Most of the bulbs were salvaged, the historic house was demolished, and the land became a cemented parking lot. I can still see the stained glass and the curled wooden staircase in my mind. If you are able to come to the Agape Haus Studio open house on Dec 20th, rumor has it that Santa left Oxblood Lilies for gifts for everyone! 🙂
Honestly, is there anything cuter than baby lilies? Well, maybe baby puppies or baby nieces. Complete cuteness overload!
I, for some odd reason, feel a deep maternal love towards baby lilies. The art of seed collecting is a long, mundane process; but then again, so are diaper changes. We don’t throw the baby out with the bath water, so lily seed collecting can be a worthy endeavor. I have been collecting, germinating and growing baby lilies for years. I’ve had more failures than wins along the way, but I find that growing lilies from seed is a nice exercise in patience. If you so choose to take the challenge, here are a few simple steps to get started.
First, you need some Oxblood Lilies that reseed. Not all my lilies reseed, and quite honestly, I’m not sure what the perfect conditions are. A lot has to do with the amount of water the bulbs receive during bloom time, and the weather conditions after the bloom. If temperatures get too hot too soon, the seed pods will dry up. Last year, the seed pods went into over-drive and I ended up with way too many baby bulbs. I mailed many packs of germinated seeds out to gardeners from all over who wanted to try this lovely seed-germinating process out. This season, the pods appeared overnight, and then we left for Colorado for our son’s wedding.
For a brief moment, I thought about hiring a baby-sitter for the baby lilies. I realized that this sentiment was a bit too much…..So I decided to stay home from the wedding.
Just kidding.
Step two….Allow the seed pods to get nice and fat like the ones pictured above. The seeds on the inside will be thin and black, very similar to other rain lily seeds. Most rain lily seeds are ready to sprout almost immediately with water…hence the name “Rain Lily”.
Step three….Place the seeds in either a wet paper towel or little teacups. I go back and forth between which method I prefer. Since I am in Colorado, and my seed babies are in tea cups in Texas, I prefer the paper towel method. At the moment, I’m concerned everything will dry out and all lily babes will be dead. I can’t be worried about baby lilies though….It’s my son’s wedding after all. Priorities.
Step four..Keep the babies fed. Whether you use the paper towel method or little tea cups, don’t let the seeds dry out. The seeds in a paper towel will get transferred to tea cups or pots within a few weeks. The tap roots for these little baby bulbs is longer than expected. They drink a lot of water. Keep the babies in dappled shade or inside in bright light. Again, don’t let them completely dry out. I’ve made this mistake and lost many, many baby bulbs this way. Always a sad time to lost something you’ve worked hard at.
Step five….The fine art of patience.
Wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. And waaaaaaaaaaaaaait…
Voila! Oxblood Lilies are worth every moment of patience.
if you would like some Oxblood Lilies, please let me know. I’m always happy to share. If you are a garden center, I’m happy to help you out with lilies as well. Come on by to the Agape Haus Studio & Garden! I love to grow things, but I’m not interested in selling. Not even a little bit. A little donation to keep the gardens composted is enough for me. I just want to share these heirloom bulbs with fellow gardeners. Email heirloombulbgirl@gmail.com for more info.
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!
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
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!
Heirloombulbgirl 