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

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.