Chaos, by Design

As I’ve said before, I truly love to garden. And weather-permitting, I will do it at the expense of everything else on my “to do” list. I wouldn’t go all the way to describing it as an obsession, and now that I have this Comedy of Iris gardening project to work on, the amount of time spent out there getting things finished, making sure the beds aren’t too wet, well, I legitimately need to be doing that, especially while the weather is above 50°F and it’s not raining. It’s practically mandatory!

But, well, working in the garden during most of my free time has often meant that other items on that aforementioned “to do” list... they get neglected. Ignored. Forgotten. Blown Off. And otherwise remain undone, except for the ones my darling husband has taken over. (Once again, a sincere “Thank you,” dear fellow!) And it has created a certain amount of chaos in my non-gardening life.

Some of the results of my garden-fever (for I am willing to acknowledge my interest does reach a feverish intensity sometimes) are simply that laundry gets done late at night, or pizza is ordered more often than usual. Consequences that don’t ruin marriages or create irreparable damage to my ability to function and do my job, but it does sometimes mean that the level of chaos in my household is past my tolerance level, so I have to shift back indoors, and get the details back in order.

'Mild Manner' ( Joseph Ghio, R. 2000) Sdlg. 93-93K4. TB, 34" (86 cm), Midseason late bloom. Standards pink; Falls silvery blue shading to orchid edge, shoulders soft pink; beards coral. 90-19J3: (87-129W3: ((( 'Persian Smoke' x 'Entourage') x (( 'Strawberry Sundae' x ( 'Artiste' x 'Tupelo Honey')) x 'Borderline' sib)) x 'Sweet Musette') x 88-51N: (( 'Cascade Morn' x 80-87N, sib to 'Ardor' pollen parent) x 85-24K2, 'Signpost' sib))) X 'Boudoir'. Bay View 2001. Honorable Mention 2003.

On a recent day that found me doing just that (mail, laundry, dogs, chores, and cooking all claimed me at once!), I was pondering the nature of chaos and order, and how fun the balancing act between the two is. In my life, I really crave order and organization. I like it when things are put away where they belong (especially when I go looking for them), and I like clean windows, and clutter-free work zones. I’m not always indoors enough to maintain the kind of clean and orderly environment that I like, but the extra chaos that results from me being out in my garden... well, I seem to tolerate that.

As a gardener, I crave orderly, tidy beds. No weeds. No pests. No spots too wet or too dry. I’d love it if my rhizomes were uniform in size, and spaced evenly apart, and had the same habits throughout the season... what a fantasy. I begin each bed with a plan that at least has a bit of order in mind, without any OCD practices like measuring the distance between rhizomes, or trimming all my greenery to the same height. I am realistic about what nature does, and I am under no illusion that I can conquer her plan through any plan of my own.

As I was yet again separating rhizomes from my mother’s long-neglected beds, I realized that nature is both chaotic and orderly. Rhizomes grow, develop increases, and bloom in mostly predictable ways. We count on that, we know pretty much when, and how much, and how many when it comes to our iris. Not entirely, of course, Mother Nature is still wild, we certainly haven’t tamed her! But, as I was on my hands and knees, separating rhizomes that were so grown together and impacted that they haven’t bloomed in three years, I was admiring the chaos of the weave they created and the seemingly random way one set climbed on top of another. It was beautiful, chaotic, organic, and altogether natural. Chaos within order within chaos...

'Orange Pop' ( Larry Lauer, R. 1998). Seedling #91-189. BB, 26" (66 cm). Late midseason bloom. Ruffled orange self; beards orange; pronounced sweet fragrance. 'Role Model' X 'Gratuity'. Lauer's Flowers 1998. Honorable Mention 2000; Award of Merit 2002; Knowlton Medal 2004.

I wondered how, if left alone, iris could continue to grow and flourish, since the mess of rhizomes I was separating had been gorgeous and happy in 2010, and such a tangled mess in 2015. How could it be nature’s plan for this plant to survive without someone getting on their hands and knees, separating the rhizomes, and transplanting them a nice distance away from each other every few years? 

Whatever the answer, I realized how happy I was to have a role in the plan, to be the one that brings a little order to the chaos of the ‘Iris plan.’ Left alone, they become chaotic, they stop blooming. Iris lovers are needed to tend and care, separate and replant, arrange and maintain. And the reward is seen in the amazing blooms these plants produce when they’re given that little bit of order and care. What fun that is to see and be part of.

Of course, the balance of chaos and order is also and indoor/outdoor struggle for me. The more I’m outdoors keeping things organized and tidy in the garden, the more the indoors suffers for my absence. This time of year, though, Mother Nature is kicking me out of the garden, and giving me the opportunity to get the balance of chaos evened up. Sure, I’ve been spending some of that mandatory indoor time making labels, updating my database, blogging, and doing other things “Iris.” What do you expect? But I’m also bringing down the chaos in my domestic environment, getting projects done, and making my inside life easier and nicer. 

Which is good, because once those rhizomes start growing in March, I will be running–not walking–back out in the my garden, and spending my time with Mother Nature again! I know I’m not the only one who feels that way...

Also, any day that it’s not raining, or terribly cold, I will be outside, checking on the beds, changing the balance of chaos indoors for ordering in the garden. The chaos is built in, and I’m ok with that.

'Wintry Sky' ( Keith Keppel, R. 2002). Seedling 95-14A. TB, height 36" (91 cm), Early midseason bloom. Standards steeplechase blue (M&P 43-HG-11) central area shading to light blue (42-AB-6) edge, midrib flushed foxglove (42-GH-9); style arms light blue (42-AB-3); Falls blue white (42-A-1/2), foxglove shading in throat beside beard; beards cream at end, yellow in throat, with blue base; heavily ruffled. 'Crowned Heads' X 91-165A: ( 'Spring Shower' x 'Modern Times'). Keppel 2002. Honorable Mention 2004; Award of Merit 2006; Wister Medal 2010.

A Grateful Gardener

Somehow, it is once again Sunday night, and even though it’s December, the weather today was just magnificent, and I was able to work outside in the garden all day. I am a lucky so-and-so, I just know it. There are plenty of locales where iris are deep under the snow already, and the fact that it was 70°F in our area today is decidedly unusual for this time of year, but not so rare that I was unprepared. I worked outside until it was too cold and too dark to stay out, so of course I consider today to be a roaring success.

There isn’t much for me to do in the iris garden these days, as pretty much everything is planted, and the hatches have been battened down for a few weeks. Well, I will admit to still working on getting name tags finished and into the beds, but I have my layout in an xl file, so I can focus on that when it’s actually too cold or wet out to be IN the garden. And speaking of name tags, I am in the continuous search for a more efficient and long-lasting way to label my rhizomes.

Currently, I am using the metal staked tags with printed labels. The label media is weather resistant, which is good because before we knew better, we used whatever label cartridge came with the printer, and all our labels (and that was over 100 of them) faded in one season. What frustration. I am still in the process of remembering names and trying to match them to blooms each Spring... Having learned my lesson, I now use the metal staked tags, and weather-ready labels.

I also write the name of the rhizome on the back of the tag with a paint pen, so that if the tag should fade or peel, the name is still preserved on the back. This has worked well in previous years, but for some reason, this year my pen is, er, what’s the nice word... inconsistent? Irregular? Here’s what I mean:

Well, it’s good enough for the backside, right? Ahem... at least I can tell what the name is supposed to be if the front side gets ruined. No style points, though, ha ha.

I’ve also painted a few of the backsides completely, creating a dark, solid field. I will experiment with using a china pencil (white or yellow) on those as the alternate label, and report my findings.

Additionally, I’ve got some weather-resistant labels on plastic knives, which are great in beds that don’t have a gardener near them. I put the label on the blade portion of the knife, then stick the handle-end into the ground, with the label facing away from the sunniest/hottest direction. Not effective if you have sheep or other critters moving through the beds... it’s a long story, which I’ll save for another post.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear what methods you use for labeling your rhizomes. I have heard of several very clever and attractive methods, and I bet you have some good ideas to share... hmmm?

But, I’m saving labels for rainy/cold days. Today was not that day, and again, I feel lucky! Being able to go outside for hours at a time and (comfortably) work in my yard is just my favorite thing to do. It feeds my soul. It makes me happy. It heals me. It brings me joy. And at the end of the day, or to be more precise, at the end of the daylight, when I look around and can see the difference my time and efforts have made, I have an enormous sense of accomplishment that few other things bring me.

I think gardeners in general are very lucky people. We have a bit of land, a bit of time, a bit of nurturing, and a bit of nature in us. We have a desire to work with nature, the patience to wait for the results, the creativity to choose and plant, and the time to give to our gardens. Those are traits to be admired and cultivated, no pun intended! I know in our local iris society there aren’t too many member under the age of 45... I also know it’s very expensive to buy a house, and most people in their 20s and 30s have kids which absorb the kind of free time required to garden. Nontheless, I have a hope that gardening, and iris gardening in particular, continues to be popular, not only for the sake and beauty of the plants, but also for the traits and qualities gardening engenders. My favorite people are gardeners.

I would love to know how you were introduced to gardening, and iris gardening in particular. Please feel free to share that in the comments section below, or you can write to me through this blogsite. We compassionate, patient types have to stick together! I’m grateful for my garden, and what it brings me. I’m also grateful for my gardening friends—they’re lovely people, and I’d really enjoy adding you to my list of gardening friends.

The weather will go back to normal late-fall temperatures tomorrow, and the nights have been hovering near freezing. Leaves are coming off the trees in steady droves. I will be “stuck” inside soon, since I don’t have the toughness to garden in cold and wet conditions. You can bet I’ll be sitting at the window, peering out at the leaf-covered yard, watching it rain, anticipating the new growth we’ll see in the Spring. My labels will be finished, and in the beds before the end of the month, I’m sure. Then, we all wait while nature works her miracles. How lucky are we?

As promised, a gorgeous blooming iris, to keep us warm until the Spring

Jaguar Blue' (George Sutton, R. 2001). Sdlg. G-57. TB, 36" (91 cm). Midseason late bloom. 

Heavily ruffled ethyl blue (lighter than RHS 112D); beards ethyl blue, hairs tipped pale yellow; edges serrate; slight sweet fragrance. 'Silver Flow' X 'Silverado'. Sutton 2001

“All Ya Gotta Do Is...”

Well, another Sunday night finds me winding down from a fantastic weekend of gardening, as Mother Nature graced us with weather in the 70s (I know!) and being serious about stretching out my gardening season as much as possible, I stayed outside!

And to my complete delight, I had excellent company and help from my partner in this project, Chris, and my darling husband, too. So much more got accomplished by having them here, and it was just so enjoyable having their delightful company. Thanks to them both for their help and presence! A combination of tasks were at hand, and although I didn’t finish everything for Phase II, it’s very close:

As you can see, there are still two beds waiting for iris, but the dirt is in, and all I’ve got to do is dig up iris from my property, separate them, clean them up, plant them in the bed, feed and Preen them, and install irrigation. So, for all practical purposes, Phase II is done. (Let me just have that for a moment... the reality will still be there when the moment has passed.) And although today was 73° the prediction is that the high Wednesday will be 48° so I’m actually very serious about getting the work done right away.

These beds hold a combination of named iris from purchases made recently (some growers are still shipping to our climate!), named iris I had at my personal property, named iris from friends and family, and a huge quantity of unnamed iris from my personal garden. One of my only frustrations as an iris gardener has been how difficult it is to keep names and plants together. I have been undone by mother nature (the sun, the water), sheep, gardeners, dogs, and my own lack of maintenance. I’m being very diligent about keeping the names and layouts for this project in a database, so that even if the name tags disappear, I will know what is where in which beds. Progress! All I’ve gotta do it is make sure the rhizomes aren’t moved from their beds!

The large center section has two iris in it: at the very center is a smaller section of Denver Dawn (see photo below) and the outside edges are a beautiful heirloom yellow iris that I got from a lovely woman in Encino about a decade ago. I love this story, as it illustrates how iris are a social plant: I drove past her house daily on my way to and from work, and she had a zillion yellow iris on her front slope. When they all bloomed every Spring they were just gorgeous. I finally went to her house with a shovel, a 5 gallon pot, and cash. I knocked on her door to ask her if I could possibly buy some, and she graciously refused my cash and took my 5 gallon pot instead! Sadly, she never knew the name, so I chose them simply for their beauty. I think I only took about 10 or 12 of her rhizomes even though she easily had over 100 on the slope. I have found that people who love iris are generally very generous about sharing their excess fortunes, wink wink... Anyhow, when I separated them this month, I had over 100 rhizomes myself. They will make fantastic centerpiece for the iris in the outside beds.

'Denver Dawn' (John Durrance, R. 1965). Sdlg. 58-90. TB, 40" (102 cm). Midseason late bloom. Color Class V1P, Self with subtle infusion of mauve and rose. 'Pierre Menard' X Loomis plicata sdlg. Long, Cooley 1964.

The other task that is already presenting itself is weed management in the areas around the beds. We’ve had some rain already this season, with more coming soon, and the green sproutlets are rapidly becoming a proper field of weeds. There has been more hoeing (thanks to my darling husband), and Preening of course. Hopefully we can stay on top of it throughout the wet season. All I’ve gotta do is just keep up with the rain and the sun!

While my darling husband was weed massaging (heh), Chris and I addressed the hundred or so rhizomes that had been dug up in previous years, and stored (rather badly) at my property. Some were from my mother’s garden, some were from my personal property, and all of them deserved to be planted at least 12 months ago. Believe it or not, there were still quite a few viable rhizomes in that collection of papery mess, and after choosing an appropriate spot to give them their best shot, we cleaned them up and got them planted. I shall be interested to see what we get from them in the Spring. All I’ve gotta do is feed them, water them, and beg them to forgive me!

And earlier this week, I brought home seven buckets of rhizomes I dug up from an impacted and neglected bed at my mother’s house. They’ve been out of the ground since the first weekend in October, and while I know there are irisarians out there screaming at me to not dig them up until I have space ready for them to immediately go into, I don’t always have that luxury, and I have to admit to having exceptionally good survival rates, and thriving plants. The bearded iris are all now planted in one section together, as the gardener at my mother’s house had mangled and separated some of the names, and removed others altogether. I have a rough idea of what iris were in that particular bed, so I’ll keep them all together, and as they bloom I’ll label and move them. In the meantime, they are hunkering down for a nice wet Winter.*

The bulk of the transplant, however, was spuria, and they did not do so well out of the ground for so much time. So, they look rather pathetic, and their names are all unknown. I gave them a spot where I can keep an eye on them, keep them moist, and baby them if needed. We shall see if they make a comeback... All I’ve gotta do is hope for a miracle.

Now that the Phase I and Phase II sections are (mostly) done and there are over 100 iris in each section, I’m really getting excited about Spring. There are 100 or more iris in beds throughout the property and I’m having so much fun visualizing all the color, all the beauty that will erupt in March, and carry on through May, and possibly even into June. Once again, I am reminded that iris are a social plant, because they cause me to stop and talk to strangers, invite people into my garden, and even write a blog. I’ve already made some wonderful friends through iris society meetings, visiting local growers, and stopping by to chat with neighbors who have iris in their yards (that’s how I met Chris!). I am really looking forward to all the people that iris will bring into my yard this Spring. Maybe one of them will be you. All ya gotta do is come by.

*As I was going through old photos looking for a good image of Denver Dawn, I found a series of photos my mother had taken in 2010, including a series of close-ups of the names of the iris I dug up in October and just planted this week at our project property. It was such a surprise to see those photos, and it felt like a gift, and put me in tears. I am pleased to list the names of the transplanted iris:

Snowed In
Mariposa Wizard
Midnight Mink
Princess Bride
Follow That Dream
Starlight Waltz
Crowned Heads
Mild Manner
Obsidian
Expose
Alpenview
Classic Look
Whipped Frappe
Wintry Sky
April in Paris
Returning Rose
Deliciously Different

Thanks, Mom!

Gardening in the Dark, or, Too Much Fun to Go Inside

When I began this project, way back, um, two months ago, it was light well past 8pm, and I often didn’t make it home for dinner until 9pm or later. Then, a quick shower, a little couch time with my darling husband, and off to bed for me. I was happily gardening eight or sometimes nine hours a day, and it was great. I loved finishing my day, watching the sun set over my lovely garden, wearing a tank top and shorts... sigh. Those were the days.

I was also racing the calendar for planting, transplanting, separating and all the related miscellany if having blooms this coming Spring is the plan, which, yes, as I check it, that is exactly the plan. So, the long days weren’t just fun, they were necessary.

Roll out now to the weeks after we have turned out clocks back, and while I do adore waking up in the light (because, truth be told, I am clearly part bird because if my alarm goes off and it’s still dark outside, I just cannot get myself going), I do not love being shut out of my garden at 5pm. It’s just too early! I’m not done! And I’m in long pants, long-sleeved shirts, and sometimes *gasp* even a jacket. I guess I have to admit Summer is finally over. Ah, well.

So, I have re-arranged my work schedule, which I am fortunate enough to have the option of doing, and now I garden in the morning, and come home in the dark. It’s not perfect, but so far, it’s working. I feel for all my gardening friends who work full-time and only get to visit their gardens ever-so-briefly as they leave the house in the mornings. The slight silver lining is that gardens are winding down for Winter, too, and aren’t as spectacular as they are in other seasons, so, if we have to miss seeing it, we’re mostly missing leaves dying and falling off. (See? Not so bad, right?)

The longer evening also means there’s more time for me to do the paperwork portion of this project, which is my inventory, and layouts. I’m using XL for both right now, but at some point I may do something more artistic with my layouts... I can’t help it, 30 years as a designer, and just typing names into boxes lacks the verve and excitement I feel when I am standing in front of those beds, cooing over my lovely rhizomes. I know I’m not the only one who’s like this, I just know some of you doodle and sketch your gardens...

Not long after I finished the planting and paperwork of what was going to be “The Whole Project” I found myself walking around my yard and noticing named iris in pots, and remembering the names of some others that were planted in beds, and I felt the irresistible urge to expand the original project, and bring more of my iris to the Project site. I originally thought I’d bring them all over, but after digging up something like 400 rhizomes, I decided maybe to think of the project as do-able in phases. So, Phase II began.

The original layout was “U” shaped, with a large empty space in the center for admiring all the beds/pools/tires at once. That empty space became the Phase II location:

We’d had some rain, and the weeds were starting to come up by the trillions, so I had to spend some time with the hoe, and then of course I put down a generous amount of Preen in preparation for putting out the weed cloth, wire mesh, and eventually beds that will go in this space. I have several more hours of hoe-ing ahead of me, which is not my favorite, but since I don’t want to use the herbicides that are so awful for bees, doing it by hand is the next obvious way. Plus, you know, I tell myself it counts as exercise. And it does, more than blogging does...

The photo above shows the first three beds that will be in this area. The rest of the layout will be a surprise, so stay tuned. Let me just say that with about four minutes of digging up named iris that needed to be separated from my personal garden, I filled three raised beds here at the project Phase II. I still have several hundred un-named iris that I would love to incorporate into the touring area, so Phase II is not the end of the expansionist era of the project. I kind of had a feeling I’d want to just keep going, but I’m being disciplined, and not expanding into Phase III until Phase II is done, planted, and irrigation in place. 

This self-imposed “finish what you start” has been a great motivator as I’m so excited to start Phase III that I’ve got my hustle on getting Phase II finished. I can’t describe how much fun I’m having, because talking about hoeing and cutting wire mesh and bringing in wheelbarrows of dirt doesn’t sound like fun, even to other gardeners. But if you’ve been in the position of creating something beautiful to share, you probably understand that even the bits that sound like drudgery are still motivating and exciting. I’m totally in that place right now. Woo hoo!

I’m also riding on the high of having a gardening buddy. Chris and I spend most of our gardening time alone in our own gardens, but when we get the chance to share our gardens and tasks, it’s just such a hoot, and I’m really loving it. So, thanks again, Chris, for being the person who shares the fun with me.

Keep your eyes peeled for more photos as the Phases and expansion continue. Until then, keep warm out there!

And, as promised, here’s an iris from my personal garden:

'Big Bad Bob' ( Tom Burseen, R. 2004). Seedling 01-483B. TB, height 37" (94 cm), midseason bloom. Cream washed chinese yellow (RHS 20B) self, Falls slightly darker at edges, flared; beards yellow ochre, very large uplifting self flounces; ruffled. 92-282: (95-119: (92-336: (8-163: ( 'Yellow Flounce' x 'Bride's Manor') x 'Deity') x 'Air Up There') x 'Cookie Combo') X 99-288: (96-206: ( 'Part Prude' x 'Triffid') x 97-610: (95-337: ( 'Dauber's Delight' x 'Open Arms') x 'Joan's Party')). Burseen 2005.

Upcycling, Progress, and Discovery

Having completed the first two phases of my experimental iris gardens, I was left only* with the early-bloomers section of planters to prepare. Yes, I was feeling the pressure of having already planted the midseason and late-bloomers, while the early bloomers lingered in a box, awaiting the easy-but-prep-heavy step of painting the tires they were to be planted in. (*“only” here indicates iris that I ordered or purchased specifically for this project.)

“What could be so hard about painting some tires?” you ask? Certainly not the painting itself. Tire, roller, paint, right? Well, yes and no. First, research the proper steps for painting tires, so that in three months, or a year, the tires are still painted. Then, go to the paint store, choose a color, buy the paint in the correct quantity (more on that later), bring it home, and prepare to paint. I chose a light, slightly beige color that I thought would be least likely to draw your eye away from the gorgeous blooms... Turns out that color is called “Rice Cracker” and is quite similar to the color known as “bisque” to anyone who has been sink shopping in the last twenty years.

So, home I schlepped with my five gallons of Rice Cracker paint. To keep you from enjoying the many stages of this endeavor in real time, I’ll list them as steps.

1. wash tires, let them dry
2. create area to paint tires where paint slop (unavoidable) can be contained
3. find appropriate drop-cloth like materials (turns out to be a large cardboard box, in this case)
4.  move tires, paint, roller handle, and high-nap roller to appropriate area (out of sun, out of wind)
5. open cardboard box with sneaking premonition that a brown recluse spider will be inside
6. find actual brown recluse spider inside.
7. grab camera; snap photo:

8. leave area for a while, as willies abate
9. return with dampened roller, pry lid off paint can
10. re-mix paint
11. lay out tires on opened, flat cardboard
12. paint!

There’s a long exposition on getting paint into the grooves of the tires, but not creating too many runs, and then where to put them to dry so they don’t stick to the surface and/or get dirty. I will skip that part, as you can imagine me finding the perfect, elegant solution and employing it with panache and grace. Ahem.

Presto, two hours later, I have ten tires just about dry enough to move to the location where they are destined to house my patient but kind of wilty-looking early-bloomers. That leaves me time to prep the area!

Roll out the weed-block cloth, put the pallet with the kiddie pool in what I’m guessing to be the center of the area, fill the kiddie pool with the luscious, imported planting soil I bragged about in the last blog, and suddenly, it’s time to see if those tires are dry enough to move!

OK, you may have guessed there’s a bit more to it than that. I skipped the part where I cleared the ground of weeds beforehand, mounted the kiddie pool to the pallet and put in drainage holes, roughed out the area the tires would occupy before grabbing the scissors to cut the final dimensions of the weed cloth, etc. But I’m trying to keep this snappy and engaging, so if it seems more like a cooking show than a gardening blog, well, guilty as charged.

I’m somewhat tempted to describe each step, as creating even simple gardens takes far more work than most people anticipate. Knowing that I’m putting all my early-bloomers into a kiddie pool surrounded by tires makes it seem like the rest is just soil and planting. On the one hand, elucidating the hours of preparation required before soil is moved in seems like the fair and honest thing to do. On the other hand, it might seem a bit tedious, and make it seem like I’m looking for, at best, a gold star, and at worst, sympathy.

Allow me to say, then, that the prep work not shown on cooking shows is quite similar in scope and time to the prep work not listed here. Area, clean-up, measurements, arranging of physical assets, designing which iris go into which containers, choosing paint colors, buying all the paint equipment... Let’s put it this way: I have learned to never believe anything that claims to have only three easy steps!

Nonetheless, it felt like I was getting close to planting time, so I filled a kiddie pool halfway with water, and soaked the rhizomes in anticipation of getting them into real soil sometime soon. I schlepped the ten tires to the area they would call home for the next two seasons, and discovered my earlier measurements were spot on. (Measure twice, cut once applies to gardening, too!)

My darling husband (thank you, dear!) assisted me in rolling out the wire mesh, cutting it to the right sizes, and laying out the tires. Now, surely, planting was imminent!

So I proceeded to load the wheelbarrow with soil, bring it to the site, and fill in each tire with far more soil than I anticipated. Still plenty of soil there, though, so that was ok. I managed to get them all filled, and all the soaked rhizomes planted in just a few hours. The kiddie pool is still unplanted, which is the opposite order in which you would normally want to execute this layout, but the iris that are going into the kiddie pool are not only an early-bloomer, but also a re-bloomer (Stairway to Heaven) and threw out a bud the day before I was going to separate and plant them.

In order to not hold up the rest of the early-bloomers, I opted to work out of order, and I will plant the kiddie pool after the blooming is done. I consider this re-bloomer to be the inspiration to continue this project, and a kind of reward for how much work I have put into it so far. Seeing these gorgeous blooms are the reason for all this effort, and if anyone asked for a sign that this is worth it, here it is:

Stairway To Heaven ( Larry Lauer, R. 1992). 1993 Seedling L87-48-3. TB, height 40" (102 cm). 

Early to midseason bloom. Standards creamy off-white; Falls medium blue undertoned lavender; beards white; slight fragrance. 

“Edith Wolford” X “Breakers”. Cottage 1993. 

Honorable Mention 1995; Award of Merit 1997; Wister Medal 1999; American Dykes Medal 2000.

I am in no hurry for this to finish blooming... I can wait to separate and plant her, no rush.

In the meantime, I have all ten tires filled with rhizomes, and weed-preventer as my already-planted beds and kiddie pools sprouted hundreds of tiny weeds within two days of being planted... let the games begin, ha ha... ? This is the result thus far. Just imagine that pool is filled with Stairway to Heaven, and the picture will be complete.

So after that, I’m done.

Ha ha ha haha, ahhh ha ha haha... Not even close. I still have to design and install the drip irrigation. I have to finish the layout database (because name tags get separated from planters... it just happens). I have to weed. And feed. And monitor progress. Also, I have the better part of a five-gallon can of paint in this color...and you know I’ll end up painting more tires.

And, as I discovered to my surprise, I have probably two dozen more named iris in my yard that I am interested in adding to this project, to create the riot of color I so enjoy seeing in other people’s gardens. The process starts all over again: which ones to put where; what area to use; what layout will best show off their beauty; what materials will be needed. It’s going to be a ton of work. I can’t wait.

Gardens: the mystical place where one hour becomes nine

Although I work, and have eight dogs, ten sheep and an orange cat (orange cat owners know what that means) I somehow manage to spend the bulk of my time gardening. I do this by choice, and on days like today, I do it instead of all the things I should be doing. (Note: if anyone can tell me the four-letter word equivalent for “should” I’ll use that instead.)

I have two forms of proof that I spent the bulk of my weekend in the garden. First, the inside of my house could convince you that border collies have opposable thumbs, and second, I am finally making visible progress on our iris project. While I dream of coming home to a beautifully clean home and a delicious, fresh-cooked meal, it turns out—to my surprise—that I’m the wife, and am the one traditionally obliged to complete those tasks. Normally, my utterly darling husband steps up and makes a huge dent in the household chores, but he is out of town this weekend, and so I come home to the mess I made yesterday, after a long day in the garden... (Honey, did I mention how much I appreciate you? Consider this a second reminder that you’re the best.)

So, now it’s 9:30 at night, I’m eating from-the-freezer stir-fry, and having just unloaded and re-loaded the dishwasher, I can now sit down and gush and crow and preen over my garden photos (none of which show the true measure of the accomplishment I feel!). I’m that delightful combination of excited and bushed, which is a nice way to wrap up the weekend. And I get to share my progress photos with you, which makes it much more fun. But first, of course, I have to tell you what got done!

From previous posts, know you that I’d cleared an area of the yard with a gentle slope for our great planting endeavor. I also procured (donated!) kiddie pools, tires, and pallets. Drip irrigation materials are on hand, and the iris have all arrived (bought online, and from the San Fernando Valley Iris Society, who are just the loveliest people around). It was down to soil, and as also discussed in previous posts, planting directly into our (awful) soil is just an invitation to feed gophers and ground squirrels. Soil of a higher quality had to be obtained, and to keep it brief, the stars finally aligned for that to happen, and lucky me, six yards of very nice loamy, amended soil was delivered. Yaaaaaay!

P.S. Whomever came up with the expression “dirt cheap” has never had a dump-truck load of it delivered to their house.

“Hooray!” I exclaimed. “I can start planting now!”

But, that was premature. Because, you know, I’m not just going to stick them in the beds willy-nilly. There has to be a plan! A grand scheme! An over-arching concept! Right? I mean, I’m starting from bare dirt in about an acre of land. This is my big chance to design something amazing, and brilliant. Something that will end up in high-end gardening magazines, and be the first result when you search “gorgeous iris garden” and also be the ideal for all future iris lovers across the globe. I can’t just stick them in a kiddie pool and call it genius! There must be A Plan!

This, friends, is where the magic of gardening begins to ebb away, and the practical realities of being a Type-A overachiever with tendencies towards the grandiose starts to inhibit the actual gardening part of having a garden. I kid you not, there are probably a dozen steps between the dirt arriving, and the first iris rhizome getting planted in that dirt. I’ve had a few sips of wine, so it’s starting to be amusing to me...feel free to laugh along with me.

The good news (for me) is that in addition to being Type-A, I’m also very practical. I realized that I was not quite ready to design the most stunning garden of all time, and that just having a successful growing season was an excellent goal for this first planting year. Sufficiently self-chastened, I took some (more) advice from my sister, and created a visual catalog of all the iris I ordered, as well as all the named iris I already own. It turns out to be approximately 85 named iris. (The hundreds and hundreds of iris with missing names have earned their own post, so we’ll talk about those another time.) Luckily for me, I used to be an art director and graphic designer, and I very quickly assembled an excellent and clever (if I do say so myself) method of creating my very own iris catalog. Arrange-as-you-like printed envelopes:

This way, I can lay them out to create optimal color combinations without trying to drag my computer around the garden. Or worse, relying on my memory...

All the tags and labels that come with the rhizome go into the envelope. I feel so clever.

Of course, my goals for the garden are different from most commercial growers’ goals and requirements. I could have just planted them alphabetically! Or by type (“Tall beardeds on the left, folks, and intermediates on the right...”), but I created a slightly more challenging rubric of by-season and by complimentary-color combination. Which is to say, all the early bloomers are together, and then arranged in color combinations that enhance and support the beauty and uniqueness of each variety. Then the mid-season bloomers are together, and the late bloomers are together, etc, all arranged by a totally subjective and probably not-entirely-perfect color-enhancement and combination that, now that I’m typing it, sounds almost silly.

But, truly, a lot of thought went into which iris should be planted near which other iris. In my personal yard, I have what I call my yellow garden. I have combined many of my favorite yellow and yellow-adjacent plants in one area, and they all bloom their own variety of yellows, creating a really lovely and inviting spectacle. But I noticed when iris-shopping that often all the white iris (for example) look indistinguishable when they are planted together. There are subtle differences, of course, but the eye wearies of all white, or all blue, or all deep purple. And creating contrasts, and appealing color combinations really boosts the value of some of the more average or mundane blooms. A plain-ish yellow bloom becomes dull next to another plain-yellow bloom. But either of them in contrast with a vibrant purple (or reds, or pinks) become a vital part of a visually exciting tableau. Yeah, I just said that!

So, I printed out all the named iris stats onto envelopes, in full color. Then I separated them into bloom season (early, mid, late). And then began the fun of deciding which combinations of rhizomes should be created, and into which kind of bed (tires, raised beds, or kiddie pools) they should be planted. Now, I am going to toot my own horn again, and say that normally I am very very good at estimating how much time a task will take. And normally, I will brag about how that is one of my superpowers. Because of that, I will happily confess that I grossly, massively, and completely underestimated how long it would take me to create the layouts for the beds.

I figured it would take about an hour. It took closer to four. That’s with help from Chris. And that was after I had printed the envelopes, broken them into bloom-season groups, and made a preliminary layout. I was utterly unable to make the process faster, and I suddenly understood the appeal of planting them in alphabetical order.

When I woke up this morning at seven, I thought I would have everything planted by noon. Looking back, that is so naively adorable! I wrapped at sundown, because I still needed hardware and knew I wouldn’t get back before dark. Also, the dogs called and were threatening to see what they could whip up from leftovers and whatever was in the freezer... I had to call it a day. All the mid-season bloomers are planted in the raised beds, and the late-bloomers are the next to go in.

The great news is that I think we have a very attractive layout for each bed, and we will be able use all three types of beds for this test planting. Once I paint the tires for the early bloomers (because black tires in our climate will simply bake the roots of any rhizomes), they can get planted, too. I then have the drip system installation, and then... well, if you garden, you know there will always be something else. It will probably be weeding. I’m convinced the runoff will create beautiful green stripes of weeds in downhill rivulets from our beds... and then the gophers will really have something to think about!

Before that, though, here is a pictorial of how today proceeded:

It started out hot today, so we set up in the shade. You can see our magical raw materials: 

tires, raised beds, and lots of rhizomes. A thousand thanks to Chris for her help and company.

You don’t have to guess that it’s genius at work when you see we are using the hood of the car 

to lay out our magic envelopes and create the masterful final designs (cough, cough).

So, ha, I was pretty convinced we were going to need dozens of beds and walkways for the all the iris I ordered... and ha-ha, uh, no. This is pretty much the final configuration: early bloomers in the tires, midseason bloomers in the raised beds, and late bloomers in the kiddie pools. (Results may vary.)

Taken from the downslope, this all the room it takes to plant approximately 120 rhizomes. 

Yeah, I was surprised, too!

It looks, um, well, right now, see, they’re not painted yet, so they’re not really camera-ready, and so, well, it’s going to be, um, probably, like, you know, good. In the end. Maybe ignore this shot.

This is where most of the magic happened today. We laid out weed-blocking fabric, 

and then on top of that, we rolled out fine-grade wire mesh, to discourage the below-ground critters from coming up into the beds from underneath. I use the word “discourage” realizing 

they may come through anyhow, but at least we made it challenging!

So, here you can best see the wire and the weed-blocking fabric. 

This is such a tidy look, I hope they stay this nice looking throughout the season. Stay tuned.

Ah, finally! Rhizomes in the ground! Once we have the layout officially in our database, I will 

go through and remove all the lovely tags, so they can just look natural. And relaxed. Like me.

You, too, can work for nine hours and have this to show for it! 

Check again in the spring though, and then tell me what you think.

Me? I’m utterly tickled, and can’t wait to get outside tomorrow and plant some more!

And because I promised, here’s an iris for you to enjoy

Part of a long, tragic history of iris that were separated from their name tags. 

If you think you know the name, please let me know!

Separation Anxiety

To truly love iris and give them what they need, you must run on their schedule, which is to say, nature’s schedule. The plants bloom, grow, sleep, and reproduce on a strict itinerary, and if you are intending to help them thrive, you get on their calendar, not the other way around.

Mostly, it means that if you want blooms in the spring, you need to be done planting already. Thus, all your iris shopping is necessarily finished for the season since pretty much no one is shipping anymore. Any loose rhizomes or potted iris should be in the ground where you want them to bloom come springtime. And (and this is where it gets tricky for me) any rhizomes that needed to be separated to ensure good spring blooms and lots of bountiful growth should already be separated and planted.

Did I say “already”? Yes, well, I also said “should”....

I am going on the record to say I have planted none of my newly received rhizomes (only about 50 of them so far, with another 50 to come). I have not planted my potted rhizomes that I want in the ground for this coming spring bloom. And I have not separated the multitudes of iris that are already in the ground and are due or overdue for separation. I am behind. And it is officially starting to make me tense.

Far be it from me to take this tardiness in gardening lightly. I am serious about being a good plant custodian and caregiver. I want to give my lovely plants everything they need to be healthy and thrive. I seriously do. But I began this project with a few obstacles in my way, and quite a bit late in the season to boot. Now, I face a project with missed deadlines, and I’m still not ready to execute the most timely part of this endeavor: separating and planting rhizomes!

If, perchance, you don’t know much about rhizomes, and thus don’t know what “separating” means, here is a quick explanation which lacks many accurate or scientific qualities:

Rhizomes are the potato-like root that supports the greenery and blooms of the plant, and from which the finer roots grow down into the soil. Iris reproduce in two ways: through seeds, like many flowering plants (although this is not the primary method for iris, more on this later), and through offshoots from the rhizome of smaller rhizomes with the same genetic qualities (called increases). These small offshoots grow from the sides of the original rhizome, and can get quite large quite fast, which impacts the growth of all of the rhizomes in the cluster. This is why separation is needed.

If rhizomes impact each other, the growth and performance of the plant is affected. Digging up rhizomes, separating off the newer, smaller increases, and replanting them at a distance from each other allows for better growth and performance of all the rhizomes. This is both the joy and the curse of growing iris. “Look! My one beautiful iris is now six (or eight, or ten) beautiful iris!” quickly becomes, “Oh my gosh, I have 30 of the same iris and I have no idea where to plant them all!” Usually, it’s a delightful problem to have, until you actually do run out of garden space for all your wonderful plants. Imagine digging up a clump of iris that began as just one rhizome, and separating into a dozen rhizomes. You can see how the process become exponentially hard to support in a short amount of time.

This is the magical time of year that has more or less just concluded for most growers in my climate zone (central California). Yet I have dug up and separated exactly one clump of iris, and have not yet planted any of those separated rhizomes. As I walked around my garden this evening, I counted no fewer than 40 others that need digging up and separating... and I just kept walking. I am in dereliction of my duties. It will be a wonder if I get any sleep at all tonight... (ha ha?).

My primary obstacle is still that I have not ordered my planting soil (see previous posts on the dreadful condition of the native soil, and the many in-ground critters interested in devouring my plants). I have been acquiring kiddie pools, tires, and pallets for my experimental planting beds. I have been researching garden layouts, designs, and planting schematics. I have prepped the primary area, and have almost all the drip irrigation equipment I will need for the initial planting. But the soil is not ordered.

Part of the issue has been finding the right kind of soil to be delivered in the correct quantity. Part of it has been financial (since the quantity required is substantial). But mostly it’s all of the other things I am required to do in order to conduct my life. Yes, my pesky day job is part of it, but I am also responsible for a border collie rescue, executing my mother’s estate, and three separate gardens. That’s before I do anything that looks like resting or relaxing, mind you. Clearly, I needed this project to give me something to do, outside of my other interests....

And, actually, that’s the truth of it. I do need this project to balance out all the other tedious, difficult, dreary and monotonous obligations I have.

I love iris. I love growing them. I love looking at them. I love digging them up and separating them. I love that my love of iris comes from my mother, who passed away earlier this year. I love that being in her gardens and watching her iris bloom is a way for me to still be with her even though she’s gone. I love the soil, and the sun, and the friendship and enthusiasm of my fellow iris-lovers. I love the solitude of gardening on days when I need quiet, and also the camaraderie of sharing my garden with others.

I love the reward of dirt under my nails and long days planting, weeding and watering. It comes in the form of gorgeous blooms, a visible result, and also a sense of well-being and a kind of holiness, a communion with nature that investing the time and care brings me. It isn’t obvious or expected, like the wonderful blossoms we’ll get in the spring, but it sustains and replenishes my soul. I don’t want to sully it with too many words, but the payoff of the hours and the dirt and the sweat is far more than just pretty flowers and bragging rights.

So being a week or so behind in my digging and separating and planting isn’t ideal, that’s for sure. And I’m not worried about not getting gorgeous blooms in the garden this coming spring—they’ll be there. I’m not worried it won’t get done (and soon, it will be soon!), and I’m not even worried the plants won’t forgive my tardiness. I do love checking things off my list (there’s some Type-A in me, that’s for sure!), but that’s not what is giving me my separation anxiety. I’m yearning for that beautiful time of creation and nurturing that is the heart of gardening. I crave the connection I feel to my mother when I’m working in her garden, planting her increases, weeding her beds. I long to replenish my spirit with the unspoken gifts that being in nature bestows upon those of us with dirt in our shoes and under our nails. Loving iris and gardening is my gift to me, a way to honor my mother and still feel my connection to her, and once a year, brings a glorious visual explosion of beauty and accomplishment.

The soil will come soon enough. All my planting will be done soon after. The plants’ winter sleep will be done before we know it, and the bloom season will start the cycle over again. There’s a lot of love in that dirt, in those beds. I’m looking forward to getting outside and getting some of it under my nails.

'Doctor Who' (George Sutton, R. 2009). Seedling U-740. TB, 37" (94 cm), Midseason to late bloom. Standards and style arms chinese yellow (RHS 20D); Falls beetroot purple (71A), chinese yellow and beetroot burst pattern; beards spanish orange; ruffled; slight sweet fragrance. 'Tropical Delight' X 'Snowed In'. Sutton 2010. Honorable Mention 2012.

Step One: deciding what Step One should be

When you have as much enthusiasm for iris as we do, it’s easy to find yourself spending, say, two or three hours shopping for iris online. It’s also easy to click “add to cart” a shocking number of times in that duration. And, well, the shipping season for iris rhizomes is over in mere days, so for our new venture it would seem like choosing the iris for our first year of growing should happen right away. Top priority. An urgent, must-do task of immediate importance. So, I figure that should be Step One.

And let me assure you, it is so easy to shop for iris when you love them. And having a reason to buy more than you already have, well, that is a bit of a dream come true. But choosing carefully, and trying to buy for purposes beyond “Ooooooh, pretty!” means slowing down, methodically selecting for attributes and qualities outside of one’s personal preferences, and ensuring I don’t purchase iris Chris already has and vice-versa... it puts the brakes on the runaway shopping spree aspect of populating our first beds. So it slows down our Step One a touch.

And then, well, the beds aren’t ready for this imminent shipment of rhizomes, so certainly that needs to be a top priority, and should get done quickly, if not sooner. Which means we need to find someone to bring in high-quality soil, as our native soil is, um, well “poor” is the nice way to say it (more on our native soil below). So finding someone to truck in really good planting soil is high up on the to-do list, and needs to be put first on the list of accomplishments for today.

Of course before the beds go in we need to decide on the layout and which kind of watering system we’ll be using so those will be ready before the soil arrives, making that the thing we ought to start with right now, maybe even yesterday. Definitely, we need that done as the initial step.

Right after we buy all the parts for the drip and soakers, which we can’t really do until we’ve finalized the layout, which will depend on how many iris we buy, and is also somewhat determined by which iris we buy since some of the layout of the beds will undoubtedly be dictated by the types and colors of iris in our purchase... So, we really ought to get that done first.

Step One, for sure, should be the uh, the um... what did we just decide? [Re-traces steps, notices circular logic....]

Well, it looks like shopping for iris wins this round! Once the order is in, we can move on to the next step of laying out the beds, designing the watering system, and having some gorgeous, healthy dirt brought in. Clearly, there is a logical, obvious order to this. [Cue the audience to laugh now.]

Truth be told, though, it is tremendous fun to shop for iris, and shopping with this project in mind is quite different than iris shopping for myself. Normally, I choose them using the “Oooooh” factor, which is to say, if the photo makes me say “Ooooooh” out loud, I add it to my wish list. And I have a style and variety of iris that I like for my personal garden, which is apparent during bloom season.

So I had my first ‘pay attention’ moment when I went online to begin the shopping. As I looked through the zillion or so photos, I had to use criteria beyond “I find that just lovely, must have it” and I think I did a good job of choosing iris that represent a variety of tastes. I chose different sizes, different colors, different shapes, and different bloom times for all of them. And of the 40 or so that I initially chose, only two of them were iris Chris had already purchased. Our beds should be varied and interesting, which I’m quite pleased about.

So today I will go online again, finalize that purchase, and complete Step One of our comedy of iris.
Then I need to find good soil and amendments for delivery, that is definitely next, right? I thought this step would be easy, but it turns out, not so much...

We are located in central California, in a largely agricultural area, which means we have a nice amount of space to start with (about an acre of open, slightly sloped land), but also some significant challenges.
First, our native soil is dreadful. It has two textures:
1. pudding, in the rain; and
2. concrete, the rest of the year.

This is how it looks right now, before any clean up or treatment. Consider this the “before” picture.

And the nutrient level is very low. It wants basically everything added to it for any growing purposes, so trucking in good soil and amendments is a necessity. I thought being in an agricultural area would mean it’s easy to find good planting soil, what with so many growers around us, but that hasn’t been the case. We don’t require thousands of acres of amendment, making us too puny for the local suppliers’ services. And yet, buying dozens and dozens of bags of amendment at a nursery is neither economically nor practically feasible. So accomplishing this task will require more digging (har har).

Second, that hard ground is home to several kinds of critters that love it when we water—it makes the soil soft for them to dig through, and gives them something tasty and nutritious to eat. I, personally, do not like killing critters when they are in their territory, but no amount of reasonable conversation makes ground squirrels understand that they should go around the foundations of your barn when tunneling across your property. And gophers don’t care that the plant they just destroyed was a gift from your recently deceased mother... it was moist and tasty! Basically, any time you add water to our land, you attract the very vermin you want nowhere near your precious plants. Ugh.

Third, it gets very hot here, and it’s quite dry. Because this is basically an irrigated desert, and for weeks at time it’s over 100 degrees—so, really hot. Baking hot. Viciously burning your skin all day long kind of hot. Which means there are hours of the day, and days of the year, where working outside just isn’t fun or easy. Plus scheduling around our pesky day jobs means working really early, really late, and often really sweaty. At least it also means we can spend the hottest hours indoors, so please don’t think I’m whining. It is just another challenge, to work around the “Tarzan hot” hours and still accomplish something.

And managing the watering (which requires more care during a drought) is also critical. Iris don’t like to be too wet (or they rot), and managing their moisture and nutrients is crucial for them to propagate and increase. But, creating moisture means attracting critters that will eat their roots, if not the entire rhizome... wheeee?

So, even after we get good soil brought in, we have some challenges in keeping critters out of the beds, and not losing our stock to nibblers, heat, or rot. Time for some creative solutions.

When I was gardening back in my suburban setting, the soil was decent, critters were few, and the water was a spigot away... it was easy. All I had to do was not overwater, and feed once or twice a year, and I had gorgeous, happy iris all the time. After moving here, with the more challenging conditions, I have tried a variety of solutions, after losing most of a bed of named iris to a ground squirrel.

When I first planted iris in our country soil, they did so-so. I didn’t initially know how to manage the soil moisture and feeding was completely different here. But once I got it figured out, I saw lots of green growth, and happily awaited my first blooms. But they never came, and the number of rhizomes seemed to dwindle. Finally, a bit of loose soil at the back of the bed exposed the dirty truth: a ground squirrel had tunneled into the bed, from under my barn. He had been snacking on my lovely iris from beneath, and I hadn’t noticed him for weeks. This is where it started to get a little Caddy Shack...

I took up the few remaining iris, and dug out the entire bed to a depth of about one foot. I moulded tight-weave chicken wire into an open-shoe box shape, and laid it into the hole where the bed had been. I then re-filled the bed, and planted a new batch of rhizomes, confident I had outsmarted the little blighter. Joke was on me, though. Several weeks later, as I was watering, I noticed a bump of loose dirt near the outside edge of the bed, and the dirt was moving slightly.

“Ha!” I thought triumphantly to myself. “He’s just run into my chicken wire basket, and can’t tunnel his way through it!” I quietly laid down the hose, and watched to see what would happen. The little guy pushed the dirt out of the tunnel and popped his head above ground. I could see him looking around, so I held perfectly still. He ducked in again for a moment, then came up again, and to my outrage and astonishment, he got out of his tunnel, walked over the lip of the chicken wire barrier, and began to tunnel down into the bed, right in front of me!

The hours spent digging out the bed, making the chicken wire barrier, placing it in so carefully, and replanting the whole bed was undone in one moment, when the ground squirrel hit the barrier, and decided to just go over it. I had been played by a ground squirrel!

All bets were off after that. I dug up the remaining rhizomes from that bed and moved them into pots. I never liked that as a solution, nor did my plants. Then I struck on using pallets as beds, which did a good job, once I got the soil combination right. I placed the pallets on rocky ground, where the squirrels don’t really dig, and then filled all the slats with a combination of native soil, amendments, and planting mix. And it had the added advantage of making it simple to keep iris from one bed or section from creeping into another section. I kept only one kind of iris in each pallet, and there was never any confusion.

An ongoing problem was keeping the soil moist enough, but it was better than the problem of keeping them from being squirrel food. The other problem was that the run-off water encouraged insects, and made a lovely crop of weeds, but those will always be problems out here, so I soldiered on.

We are considering several different solutions for beds in this new venture, and it will be a trial and error experience. Currently the strong options are raised beds, pallets, kiddie pools, and beds directly on the slope. Chris has a variety of large pots she is successfully growing in at her place, so I wouldn’t be surprised if those get put into play here, too. Year one will definitely be the year of “try it and see” and that’s kind of my favorite part of this adventure. Right behind the “choosing which iris we’ll grow” part of this adventure.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have some iris shopping I need to finalize.

As promised, an iris! This is Pink Kitten
Blue shade of pink, lined deeper on F.; tangerine beard tipped lighter. 69-2: (New Frontier x Signature) X Dove WingsHybridizer & Year of Introduction - V. Wood, 1977Classification - Intermediate BeardedBloom Period - Early and rebloomingBloom Height - 20"