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!
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