Friday, May 11, 2012
"Go to the parking lot of Twist Salon. Under one of the trees there you will find several shopping bags of iris bulbs. Yellow, I think. They're for you."
"Ah - thanks?" Yellow is not my favorite colour, although I tolerate it in daffodils. It's also grown on me in zucchini blossoms. But yellow iris? Meh. Still, free plants are free plants (and moreover the queen-mum would be advised if I failed to cause them to disappear) so I dutifully made the trip, picked them up and took them home. I felt a bit like an undercover agent . . . .
Thereafter, the iris bulbs languished all summer in their shopping bags, moved from one spot at the greenwood to another. I couldn't figure out where to put them where they wouldn't take up valuable sunny real estate which I didn't really want to waste on them! I finally got them in the ground just before the first frost. I put them next to the wall up front where I figured nothing would grow, primarily because the ground there is harder than iron! Thank you, Tom-builder. I scratched a couple inches deep, threw them in, covered them and called it a day. If they could grow there, I figured, they were welcome.
Each summer thereafter, they have put up leaves, but nothing else. This summer, finally, flowers. Those flowers, above. They're kind of nice! What's more, they remind me of Debbie, the woman whose garden they came out of.
Come to think of it, many of our plants have travelled via friends and former houses. It enriches the garden and builds in memories. . . . The Ligularia out back came by way of the king's former house, as did the black mondo grass. We have miniature mondo, a painted fern and a red maple from our rental abode during construction. The black-eyed-susans came by way of another Debbie and are slowly taking over the place. The rosemary is almost all from the queen-mum, as are the Lysimachia and the daisies that just arrived a few weeks ago. They are all friends, and friends of friends.
In the words of Spock: May they live long and prosper.