Heirloombulbgirl

Tag: nature

  • The Annual Oxblood Lily Seed Collecting Has Begun!

    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.

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • The Multigenerational Family of Bulbs

    Just look at that! What a sweet family photo!
    Scott Ogden, in his book Garden Bulbs for the South, describes the growth of Oxblood Lilies perfectly…
    “No other Southern bulb can match the fierce vigor, tenacity, and adaptability of the Oxblood Lily.”
    After 30 years of rescuing, growing and preserving Heirloom Oxblood Lilies from old German homesteads, I have to agree. There is an incredible family unit that is found in each clump of bulbs that has been lifted.

    Scott Ogden came for a visit after our house was destroyed in the flood in 2018. I was in the process of moving all the gardens and bulbs to Agape Haus Studio & Garden. Scott had heard that I had lost my cherished copy of his book, so he and a gardening friend came and brought me a signed copy! We walked through the gardens, and I showed them my restoration goals for the scrappy, rock-infested land. I also showed them the beautiful old Live Oak trees with sandy loam conditions that were PERFECT for bulbs. They both looked at me like I was crazy.

    “That’s a lot of work”

    After all, I was a full-time working musician with a family to tend to.

    “Well, I *did* tear down an old ratty house next door, in between violin lessons, just to save that tree. Crazy is as crazy does.” 🙂

    I grabbed a shovel and dug up an enormous clump of old Oxbloods. This multigenerational family of Oxbloods had been featured in an article “Saving the Gardens for Miss Margaret”. Scott and Greg couldn’t believe how huge the clump was, and how many hundreds of bulbs were in that bulb family clump! They also couldn’t believe that I was “just giving” them these beloved bulbs. Yes, Oxbloods have a pretty high street value for fellow gardeners. In my mind, no one really “owns” their flowers…they are meant to be shared and enjoyed. We are all just care takers for the Lord’s creative beauty through nature and gardens.

    As Oxblood Lilies grow, the old bulbs get older and larger, babies bulbs grow and swirl around the parent bulb until they finally grow big enough to be on their own. These offshoots then split off and start their own little families. The baby bulbs grow into parent bulbs…hence, the multigenerational aspect of the Oxblood Lily.
    Yesterday I dug up a nice clump for donation. As I divided the bulbs, I counted 22 very large old Grandparent bulbs, not including the all the parent and littles.
    Old bulbs grow and multiply faster than smaller bulbs, but don’t worry, we all become our Grandparents’ someday! We just need to keep nurturing and watering during growing season.

    if you’d like to have some beautiful Oxblood Lilies added to your garden, simply email me, check out Etsy (it’s usually sold out tho) or come see me at the studio 1st and 3rd Fridays, by appointment.

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • The Second Flush of Oxblood Lilies

    A few weeks ago, the first of the Oxblood Lilies appeared. This is always a glorious time for the Southern gardener, and a beautiful way to welcome in the Fall. The first flush of Oxbloods is a sigh of relief. Summer is finally over! I imagine the first few blooms are likened to that of a reconnaissance crew, just checking out the weather and overall surroundings to make sure it is, in fact, Fall. The first flush is nice, but the second flush is the real deal…

    The homemade fudge sauce on an ice cream sundae.
    The quiet, gentle snowfall on Christmas Eve.
    The green piece of sea glass on a beach in Cornall, England.

    The second flush of Oxblood Lilies is nothing short of magical. The rich, intoxicating shades of dark, crimson red are exactly what one would imagine an Oxblood Lily should look like. During the second flush, the weather has also cooled down a bit (supposedly), and the flowers last much longer. The growing conditions become much more favorable of having viable seed-producing pods. I’m not sure if all Oxbloods have the “second flush” growing habits. An Oxblood clump has to become established to provide numerous blooms. Given enough time, your Oxbloods will be a multigenerational family of bulbs.

    The attitudes of Heirloom Oxblood Lilies that are 100 year old stock (and beyond) are quite different than other young whipper-snappers in the garden. These old gals have been through a lot…the Great Depression, World Wars, the Beatles, the technology age of garden neglect and homestead teardowns. That’s a lot for an old bulb to take in and process. If the weather isn’t quite right, the main flush will simply hold off.
    Patience is indeed a virtue. In my garden, the first flush typically contains only a few scattered blooms out of each clump. Yes, they are lovely to behold and yes, I do enjoy the first flush as much as I love a single chocolate cookie right out of the oven. But the second flush…Omygoodness. The second flush is the entire plate full of warm, gooey, right-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. It’s simply incredible.

    Please reach out and let me know how your Oxbloods are doing. I do have Oxbloods available if any of you are without. It’s never good to have a garden with bulbs.
    email Heirloombulbgirl@gmail.com for more information.

    Until then, enjoy this wonderful season of Oxbloods!
    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!

  • 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!

  • The Fallow Ground

    Fallow ground….A long period of just nothingness in hopes of restoration.
    Apparently, it is a good farming technique that allows the land to rest and recuperate after numerous hard farming seasons. Waiting on fallow ground to recover can actually take years. Those are hard seasons to wait upon.
    I don’t like those seasons. I honestly don’t like to wait. I wanted my Tasha Tudor gardens planted “now” (or yesterday). But, in my studio’s case, the fallow ground was all I had to work with.
    I grumbled, complained and begrudgingly stuck salvaged flower bulbs anywhere I could, completely avoiding eye contact with the land of nothingness. But things changed after the flood. ALL the gardens at the flooded house had to be relocated. I had to look eye to eye with that piece of fallow ground and begin restoration.


    Restoration of the fallow land was indeed a lofty goal. Quite frankly, I wasn’t sure if I was up to the calling. The long “wait” was just too long. The Lord was actually trying to do good things in the fallow ground, but my heart was too hardened to take notice. I needed more time in the “wait”. Maybe I’m just stubborn and didn’t have eyes to see what He was doing. Maybe I was used to grumbling over the imperfections, or maybe the Lord just wanted me to look upon stillness for a bit to watch the restoration unfold. Whatever the case, I was stuck with a whole lot of nothing. Literally…..a house lot of nothing but stickers, rocks and thorns.

    To the gardener, fallow ground gives the field a chance to rest. Over planting and plowing, (or in my case, chicken and duck grazing) causes stress to the earthly balance of nature’s ecosystem. The delicate world of microorganisms is destroyed and the soil becomes depleted. Letting the earth simply rest allows restoration and balance to simply step in, and work the soil back to heath naturally. The “wait” is the hardest part.

    Here are a few steps I took to begin the restoration of the fallow land.

    Step one….I had to be ok with the fact that my garden was not Pintrist-perfect. This sounds so silly, but my mental game was the largest hurdle I had to cross (just ask my husband). I struggled when I walked into the back part of the studio grounds and saw nothingness. “I remember when my other gardens had rich soil full of earthworms, but *this* land is_______” I had a lot of choice words that I could fill in the blank. The conditions of the land played a negative mental trip on me. I didn’t like the ground I had to work with, so I simply gave up on that part of the studio. I had to step back and rethink my vision. So, step one is simple…a much needed attitude adjustment in the mind of the gardener.

    Step two….let the wild things grow. After stepping back from my negative attitude, I began to see the fallow ground in a different light. Little native flowers were appearing out of nowhere. My favorite flower to come on the scene was Stork’s Bill, a beautiful purple flower to emerge in early Spring. The seeds are fascinating to children and truly do look like a stork’s bill. I even had adorable little, native rain lilies appear like they owned the place. Why had I never seen them before? I slowly encouraged the good natives to grow as I pulled up the stickers and thorns that had choked out the flowers and overrun the land. What is it with thorny things that love delapitated conditions?!

    Step three…pull out the stones and rocks that weighed the potential gardens down. Nothing grows in stone. Even people avoid stony personalities. After digging in the fallow ground, I found piles of underground stone that had been dumped onto the land. Apparantly my studio grounds had once been a dumping ground for unwanted rubble. How apropos. I dug the little pieces of rock and created a pathway throughout the property. The more I dug, the more little native flowers appeared. The larger rocks were used to create garden beds. True fallow land is complete rest, but I felt the nudge to “just do something” in the long wait.

    Step four….just keep digging. The road to restoration was long, and for many days, I was tired. I was tired of filling up my bucket of stickers after violin lessons. Tired of my hands hurting. Tired of digging and finding only rock. Tired of looking at nothingness. Just tired. But the Lord stepped in, as He always does, and quietly whispered “Just keep digging”. I’ve realized that the restoration of the fallow ground wasn’t just a destination, but a journey. Every day, I watch the redemptive process in the land I once called fallow. Every day I wake up excited to see new flowers. Every day I hope to find more worms in the earth and butterflies in the air. Every day is a journey.

    ”Break up your fallow ground and do not sow among thorns.” Jeremiah 4:3

    The beauty of the Lord’s doing wasn’t intended for hardened hearts or thorny ground. I had to wait, during the process of restoration, to remove thorns and rocks that only choked out the good things to come.
    Happy Gardening, my friends. Even in the fallow ground, the Lord is ever present, doing a great and mighty work in the land.

  • Growing Oxblood Lilies by Seed

    Isn’t this the coolest? I am obsessed! Some Oxblood Lilies are still in bloom, while others are in different of the seed process. Some Oxbloods don’t produce viable seeds at all. For some odd reason, I find this utterly fascinating. I have chronicled the last few weeks of Oxblood Lily seedpod development on my Instagram/FB accounts, which has brought me ridiculous amounts of fun. I have managed to figure how to put music to reels (huge step into this techno-century). Even my daughter laughed at my latest dorky song choice….I laughed too. I’m still laughing. The absurdity of gardeners who love their plants is immense, and yes….borderline psychotic, but in a joyfully good way. I think we all need good diversions in life that bring us joy. For me, it is watching my lilies go to seed.

    If you Google “do Oxblood Lilies go to seed?” most sights will say no. About 15 years ago, I had a hunch that mine did. I spotted way too many rogue Oxbloods throughout the yard. The relocation of lilies by Squirrels and small children were a distinct possibility, I decided to do a little science project. I did the whole “seed in paper moist paper towels” thing, and much to my joy, they sprouted. I did plant them as they grew and quickly lost track of my seed babies. Now I’m more savvy. I’m not knee-deep in violin concerts alongside peanut butter and honey child-rearing. My littles have all grown up, I have a somewhat of an empty nest and a lot of Oxblood Lily seeds to cultivate. The last 15 years, I have allowed nature do what it wants to do with the lily seeds. This year, I’m more intentional. I’m collecting the seeds and germinating them.

    Lily seeds enjoy a moist environment. I have half of my seeds in the moist paper method, and half my seeds in tea cups placed all around my music studio. No, I don’t have a greenhouse so I have to take a chance that my young violinists won’t throw the cups at each other while my back is turned. So far, so good. It’s been a few days, so I happily wait for green little sprouts. Patience is a virtue in which I apparently need. That’s the only real explanation on why this process is so thrilling for me. I have offered up free seedpods to folks to try their luck at growing Oxblood Lilies by seed. I’ve never sent Lily seeds via mail before, so if you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them. 🙂 Remember, I’m not a botanist, I just play one on Web MD.

    Happy Gardening my friends!

  • Finding the Balance

    There is a fine line between “going natural” with native plants, and the complete and utter gardening chaos that consumes everything in its path (including cool garden art and small children). My gardens usually tip-toe close to the line of chaos, but this particular year, the balance had to be reestablished. The local natives were abundantly fruitful with all the beautiful rain. The studio grounds have been lost in a sea of Tie Vine and Widow’s Tears. Although the bees were pleased in the overwhelming native landscape, I had to find some sense of balance in the garden. Too much of a good thing becomes borderline toxic….so I set out with my dull scissors and bucket to thin out the natives.

    Balance is a word used a lot in our society. “Find the Balance” can be heard in every realm of life. Balance between work and play, healthy eating habits and a delicious three-layered coconut cake, good parenting and self-focused alone time, screen time and naturally unplugged time….you get my drift. The need for balance is in every aspect of life. Our modern society is not just walking the fine line between balance and chaos, it is grossly out of balance. It’s easy to feel like a little Crinum bulb that has been engulfed and suffocated by the overrun vines. How do we find a healthy balance when everything around us is trying to choke out the beauty we are trying to create?

    The first thing to remember is that too much of a good thing is not a good thing. If you have a plant, person, place or thing that has consumed every area of your life or garden, it needs some space. The problem with a lot of natives is that they are designed by nature to thrive, whether by seed production, tap roots or natural vigor, natives thrive against all odds. Native plants are great, until you can’t see your garden any longer. My secret weapon in the garden is a pair of gardening scissors. I am basically a female version of Edward-Scissorhands, cutting natives and invasive vines off at ground level. The Texas Tie Vine, for instance, is a charming vine with pink flowers and heart-shaped leaves that cannot be simply pulled up….the taproot is somewhere three block as away. Pulling the vine up sends plant hormones to reproduce TWICE the vine….No joke! Where’s the balance in that?? If left unchecked, the cute little vine will consume your entire block, children, husband and pets included! Balance is being able to enjoy the lovely pink flower in random spots without allowing the vine to ruin your entire life. I continually look for places being overrun and I continue to cut throughout the season. I also *try* to keep the space around specimen plants or bulbs sacred. Native ground covers and plants like Widow’s Tear can steal nutrients from your prized plants and drop a lot of seeds. A good healthy haircut, I mean plant-cut, is good for everything in the garden.

    Another way to create a healthy balance in the garden is to recognize native plants as healthy or toxic. There are beautIful things in life that can actually be harmful to our personal health or our garden. Take, for instance, the dreaded Poison Ivy Vine. The berries are so cute! The growth habits of the vine are delightful, until it’s not. Getting rid of Poison Ivy is also interesting, but that is an entirely different blog. Red wasps are another toxic garden pest. Organic gardeners try to find the positives in all species. I tried to coincide peacefully with the wasp until they ran off the bees from my old bee tree. Not cool. I eradicated the wasp population (I have no apologies either) and my bees happily returned! Protecting the good species from overwhelming troublesome species is much like sheltering a child from the darkness of the world. Yes, it exists, but our energy needs to be put towards raising up goodness, both in ourselves and in our gardens. Even well-meaning pollinators like the Cow Pen Daisy need to be kept in check, before the 3,978,645 seeds each plant drops overruns your delightful Rain Lily bed.

    Finding balance isn’t a “One and Done” activity. Balance is something to seek out daily. Politicians, Social Media and Bermuda Grass will never be completely eradicated from life, so it is best to create healthy space and balance. Don’t get overwhelmed with a job that is never fully completed. Every day is a new and glorious day. Choose the space that you are in, the people you are around, and the plants you have in your garden that bring you the most joy. Don’t get overwhelmed by invasive vines. Simply cut them off at the pass before they get out of control. Keep toxic plants (and people) at bay, and nurture the good things that are all around you in this fabulous garden called life. Balance yourself, and the beautiful things that the Lord has in store for you can grow and begin to be noticed. And next time you gaze upon the garden patch that you just weeded, enjoy that fleeting moment of perfect gardening balance fully….but always keep a pair of scissors in your back pocket just in case. 🙂

    “Take My yoke upon you. My burden is light.” -Matthew 11:30

    Happy Gardening, my friends!
    Love, Keenan @heirloombulbgirl

  • 50 Shades of Iris

    Few words are needed to describe the sheer enthusiasm Iris brings to the garden. Iris stands tall, announcing loudly to all the world (or at least the rest of the block) that Spring has sprung. Iris come in every color of the rainbow, except gray. Naturally, I am particularly fond of pale or muted shades of Heirloom varieties. My husband’s Grandmother had a beautiful two-toned pale yellows Iris that blooms later in the Spring. I absolutely adore those lovely Iris.

    Iris are extremely tough old gals, surviving natural disasters and neglectful gardeners. I once dug up some Iris, got distracted, and after a few seasons of harsh weather, the Iris bloomed the following year….still in the dug-up clump where I left it. Oops. I’m glad my flowers outlive my stupidity. Maybe that’s why Iris are also known as Cemetery Iris or “Flags” (as the non-Iris collecting commoners call them). True Cemetary Iris are typically white or purple, and can still be found growing in cemeteries throughout the South. All Iris seem to have stories to tell, and many have traveled far and wide to land humbly in my gardens.

    Many of my white Iris are from my In-Law’s farm in East Texas. The Iris are remnants of the German homesteaders that originally lived on the land in the early 1900’s. The only evidence of the old German house is the Iris border in the middle of a horse pasture. Once I discovered the house location, I went on a digging frenzy, locating countless pieces of cool old pieces of china to make mosaics. The beautiful Iris receive no care or attention, except from passing horses or cows. The Iris have bloomed faithfully for over 150 years. White Iris are extremely common, but the stories behind the Iris are unique and dear to my heart….making each plain white Iris a special addition to the garden. I think that every garden should tell a story.

    Some of my favorite purple Iris (not yet in bloom) came to Texas from England in the 1880’s. Few cherished items were allowed on the long journey overseas. Mrs. Franklin chose a corset, a few homemaking necessities and a purple Iris. Their Texas homestead was extremely rough terrain, drastically different from the gardens of England. In fact, the last Comanche Indian raid in Texas was not far from their homestead. My dear friend, the Great-Granddaughter of the Franklins (of the Franklin ranch) gave me a few Iris from the original Franklin ranch house. It is mind boggling to imagine all that the little Iris survived through….droughts, floods, Indian raids, World Wars and The Great Depression. Somehow, surviving it all. The Franklin Iris are bold annd strappy, multiplying readily. These Iris are the “alpha” of my collection, eating small plants and other pests that get in their way.

    I have beautiful yellow, blue and magenta Iris gifted to me from flower friends, some who I’ve never even met. My daughters and their friends began to also have a love affair with Iris, trading my flowers for their own Iris collection. My daughter Hollie once received an Apricot -shaded Iris that she stuck in my garden with rocks around it, keeping *her Iris* segregated from the rest of the rabble that I grew. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed old-fashioned flower swaps with these true “pass-along” flowers. Many Iris come from house tear-downs that I chronicled through the years on my original website blog, which unfortunately is having some technical issues. Hopefully, the stories of these great old gardens will someday be readable again. Until then, I close my eyes and still see the century old beauty. Treasured gardens of Miss Margaret and Eugenia are now long gone, existing only in my mind and in all their flower bulbs that were salvaged.

    I am always happy to share these old flowers with you. The best part of preserving heirloom bulbs is getting these old gals into the hands of gardeners who will love them. Sharing and trading flowers is such a joy, keeping the spirit of Old-Fashioned gardening with Pass-Along plants close to the heart. It’s exactly what Miss Margaret and Eugenia would’ve done. Happy Gardening, my friends!
    Love, Keenan at Heirloombulbgirl