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!
Heirloombulbgirl 