BULBS
Planting something that will sit in the frozen ground for months before bursting into glorious flower seems like an even greater act of faith than sowing seeds in the spring. Still, most gardeners feel compelled to install bulbs anyway; sometimes continuing for years after the threat of aching backs and creaky knees might logically prevent such planting orgies. The late illustrator, Tasha Tudor, kept planting bulbs well into her eighties. As I recall, celebrated American garden writer Henry Mitchell collapsed and died while helping a friend plant daffodils.
The daylight hours are growing irritatingly short as I take my own leaps of faith and get the last of my bulbs into the ground. Of course, the ones still sitting in the box on my porch are not actually the last of the bulbs at all–they are really just the last of the first batch. Last week I succumbed to the pleas of my favorite bulb vendor and ordered a bunch of end-of-the-season orphans. They will arrive any day now and I hope to get them planted before either Thanksgiving or the arrival of a series of hard frosts. Time is of the essence. I still have to find a corner for the lovely double hyacinths that are among my favorite flowers. More will arrive in the end-of-season shipment, but I will probably force at least some of those. I have a tall blue forcing jar, which is perfect for one bulb. The others may be consigned to a collection of narrow-necked jars that formerly held pasta sauce or jam or Snapple. Or I may plant all my hyacinths in a shallow container filled with potting mix and store the pot in the back of the refrigerator.
My favorite bulb vendor reminds me that refrigerators are not optimal for this kind of forcing, but I am not sure the temperatures in my garage will remain above freezing this winter. At least I know that while my hyacinths are rooting, the refrigerator temperature will be consistent. Since I have had good luck with refrigerator forcing before, I will stick with the method that provides me with the best chance of a fragrant breath of springtime several months from now.
Yesterday, as I raked the endless supply of leaves from the now denuded maple tree in front of my house, I thought beyond the spring bulbs to giant amaryllis bulbs for the holidays and beyond. A trip to the website of my favorite amaryllis supplier told me that I should have had such thoughts weeks ago, before all of the most beautiful amaryllis varieties were sold out. Still, I found some available “samplers” that contain the types and colors I want. The individual bulbs won’t be labeled, but each sampler comes with five different varieties. I don’t mind waiting until they bloom to see which is which.
This year I am also going to try once again to grow a papilio amaryllis, which looks almost like an orchid. Native to Brazil, the papilio or butterfly amaryllis has pale green petals, heavily marked with maroon to chocolate brown stripes and blotches. Two years ago I bought one with high hopes of exotic flowers. It produced one rather disappointing flower stalk. The blooms were colored and marked just like the pictures, but after flowering, the plant died. I rarely give up on a particular plant after only one or two misadventures. Maybe this year will be the year of the papilio for me.
Amaryllis, with their long stems and sumptuous blossoms are my favorite of the holiday flowers. I have never really loved poinsettias, with which my mother filled the house during childhood holidays. Even the new improved varieties with white or pink or marbled bracts don’t do much for me. The little rose-form poinsettias are a bit better and I may buy a couple of those in December.
I love the look of paperwhites and could have my fill of them, since the catalogs and stores stock thousands of the common ‘Ziva’ bulbs. However, my daughter has always thought that ‘Ziva’s’ flowers smell like cat urine. I don’t share her opinion, but she isn’t home much these days and I want to make the place welcoming for her. In the past I have tried other paperwhites, only to find that they smell remarkably like ‘Ziva’ or are finicky about blooming. In the end I’ll probably break down and get a few and plant them late in the hopes that they will flower after my daughter goes back to college.
One way or another, my garden, refrigerator and windowsill will be full of bulbs. At least I don’t have to make space in the garden to store the holiday turkey.