When all else fails, garden

By Vanessa Spady

Despite all my best plans, life requires more of me than just puttering in my garden, planting and feeding and admiring my iris, and writing my favorite blog about gardening. Indeed, all the things other than my garden are often the reason I so desperately yearn to get back to my garden and revel in its restorative beauty.

'Coral Point' ( George Sutton, R. 1999). Sdlg. G-67. TB, 37" (94 cm), Midseason late bloom. Ruffled and laced pale pink (RHS 56D); beards coral, pink horn; slight musky fragrance. 'Sky Hooks' X F-257: (2-14A: ( 'Pink Ember' x 'Playgirl') x 'Twice Thrilling'). Sutton 2000.

It has been a remarkable year, as I look back at my blog postings, photos, and out into my yard. Not only did we plant our experimental garden of kiddie pools, re-purposed tires, and (hopefully) gopher-proof raised beds, but so much has happened in the world. So many public figures and close friends have passed on, the election was a tumult no matter what stance you take, and personally, there has been so much upheaval, drama, excitement (both good and not so good) and commotion in my life that garden therapy has become my saving grace.

'Alien Mist' ( Cy Bartlett, R. 1998). Seedling HD-IQ 1. TB, height 37" (94 cm), Midseason bloom. Ruffled very pale blue self; beards bright medium blue violet, horned; slight sweet fragrance. 'Howdy Do' X 'Inca Queen'. Sutton 1998.

I don’t have a routine or schedule for gardening; I often have to squeeze in projects and maintenance around other obligations, and I know this is true for so many of my friends and fellow-gardeners. That’s unfortunate, both because the number of hours my garden wants from me and the number I can provide are usually not the same (with the deficit showing in weeds and untidy beds), but also because the benefits of being in my garden extend beyond the well-being and beauty of the flowers into the well-being and beauty of the soul. Big words, but it’s true for me.

There is something so healing in a freshly turned bed. Even just clean dirt makes my heart happy. Planting is wonderful therapy, even if the rewards are only visible one season a year (for non-re-blooming iris). Weeding an area, and stepping back to see how the plants can now stretch, and grow, and thrive… it polishes up the tarnish that day-to-day living splashes on us in little bits all day long. 

'Fortunata' (Joseph Ghio, R. 1985) Sdlg. 79-125-O. TB, 38" (97 cm), E-L. S. melon; F. cool white, melon rim and shoulders; tangerine beard. 'Artiste' X 'Private Label'. Bay View Gardens 1986. Honorable Mention 1989.

The garden is a place where my mind and soul work together to feel the power and grace of nature. Harmony of the living body and the living dirt is a meditation that results in inner and outer beauty. And, at the end of a day in the garden, there is that lovely, lasting, tangible result that others can see, and share, and appreciate. It’s a lot harder to show your friends how great chanting “Om” makes you feel, but they can all appreciate gorgeous flowers, shady paths, and well-tended beds.

I can’t say when or where I noticed that gardening was good for my soul. I am grateful for the understanding, though. When work comes home with me in an unwelcome way, when stress and traffic and responsibility get too tiring, when I need to feel something more tangible, more basic, more real, I can go into my garden, and shed the rest of the world from my thoughts. I can erase the yuck, and embrace the muck. I shall always turn to my garden for the generous way it rewards my efforts.

'Sunshine Boy' (Frank Foster, R. 1985). Seedling #79-25. IB, Height 25" (64 cm), Early thru late bloom. Standards lemon cream; falls white, deep yellow markings and lines around hafts and orange beard; ruffled; pronounced spicy fragrance. 'Beau' X 'White Lightning'. Pod and pollen fertile. Vagabond Gardens 1986. Honorable Mention 1988. Award of Merit 1990.

Truth, Consequences, and the Inevitability of Both

By Vanessa Spady


Once again, as I begin writing the collection of deep and significant lessons I have learned as a gardener of iris, I am humbled, awed, and pooped. Apparently, I like this state of affairs as I am in no way considering a change to my gardening circumstances. I have a large garden, and as you know, with iris that means that it’s always expanding. I don’t keep up with all the associated chores, but scaling back is not my plan. While I love the idea of being “done” planting, or weeding, or feeding, I must acknowledge that it’s probably not in the cards for me. That’s the truth.

I admire the iris gardeners who get their orders of new rhizomes and dash out to the (already prepared) beds and lovingly, carefully plant those new iris in the long-ago designated order and space where they belong. I have nothing but respect for the gardeners who seem to have conquered weeds, leaf spot, excess increases, and the laws of time, and post pictures of their impeccable, immaculate, gorgeous and altogether perfect looking iris beds. I don’t know how they do it, truly I don’t. 

Even when I wasn’t working, I didn’t have perfect beds, or manage to feed or weed on a timely schedule. I created lots of beauty, but it was always squeezed in between the other things I was doing in my life, and never, except on day one, do my beds look groomed or tended. Sometimes they don’t even look like beds that were planted on purpose. Things around here get that feral look pretty quickly.

Scroll back in time to see how these looked when they were first planted...
Feral is the right word for the current conditions

But I do have the ambition to plant my rhizomes as soon as they arrive. And I know I’m not alone. I know some of you have rhizomes growing—nay—thriving where you put them down “just until you can get them planted..." I believe that I’m not the only one who pots new rhizomes with the promise to “get them into the ground when the weather cools off a bit” and then ends up creating a drip system to water all those potted iris… I am certain that I’m not the only one who finds a box in the garage sometime in September or October and opens it to find a cluster of dried and cranky rhizomes that have been completely forgotten in the midst of everything else that has to be done which sadly comes before gardening. That’s the consequence.

I do a lot of apologizing to my rhizome orders, or rather, to the unopened boxes they ship in. I often resent the parts of my life that require my time and attention and keep me from planning and executing those perfect beds of perfect arrangement and perfect sun, water, and exposure conditions. How dare I have to eat, and sleep, and go to work? How dare that new business I bought in May take up so much of my time… it’s bloom season! Or, it’s digging season! Or, it’s new order arrival season! Or it’s dividing season, or planting season, or weeding season… It’s not realistic for me to ignore my life, and so I squeeze in iris time whenever and wherever I can.

So I freely admit that I have slam-planted about half the iris that I have ordered into raised beds in the shade, in no particular order, after soaking them for a day or two because they sat for (up to) 6 weeks in boxes in my hot garage. I also admit that I received orders from vendors I did not remember actually ordering from (and I just found out I still have one more shipment headed my way, egad!). And I must also disclose that shopping from the comfort of my couch in the midst of those long, cold winter evenings means that I’m receiving more iris than a team of us could prep for and plant in a timely fashion.

This is the punk-rock of planting iris. I make a nice soil mixture, I put them
in the shade, and I plant them in whatever order I grab them out of the box.
Unorthodox, but they have name tags, and in they’re in a bed,
so I’m satisfied for now

The good news is that the rhizomes (mostly) forgive me. I break all the rules, and they still grow for me. I neglect them. I overheat them. I ignore them. I am in all ways a bad iris mom. So far, they look a little dry, they aren’t as lush or green as they could be, and they certainly aren’t going to be re-blooming this fall. But they’re in decent soil, and they make new green shoots, and they turn out to be just the right plant for the kind of gardener I am these days. Which is humbled, awed, and pooped.

And, the new rhizomes are slowly but surely getting planted in temporary raised beds, and labels are being made simultaneously (which is certainly part of the delay in planting, in my feeble defense), and I suspect I’ll have all the 2016 orders in the ground before, oh, September eighth? Maybe as late as the tenth? I’m pretty happy with that, since “in the ground” is a major step in the right direction. The truth is I love iris, so I embrace this chaos. The consequence is that I sometimes garden after dark, and make labels on my lunch hour.

Run out of real name tags? No problem. There are always plastic knives around.
Note the not luscious green leaves on some of the rhizomes.
Trust that the roots look fantastic.
No, really. They do.

Once I’m done planting the new ones, I can consider separating, replanting, and moving some of the vastly-increased rhizomes from last year’s project… Oh yeah! Those! 

And, because we need inspiration when all we see is dirt and dry leaves and name tags, here are some pictures of the iris that bloomed earlier this year. My gosh I love them so...

Natural Blonde, and a close-up to show the iridescence

'Natural Blond' ( Joseph Ghio, R. 2002). Seedling #97-24B3. TB, 36" (91 cm), Early midseason bloom. Warm creamy peach, with light peach sherbet standards center, heart, and falls shoulders; beards peach, tangerine base. Seedling #95-29U2: (seedling #89-89R2: ( 'Lightning Bolt' x ( 'Stratagem' x 'Bygone Era')) x Shoop seedling #89-23-2: ( 'Tropical Magic' x sibling)) X seedling #93-40J3: ( 'Heaven' x seedling #91-92B2: (( 'Birthday Greetings' x 'Bubbling Along') x ( 'Birthday Greetings' x 'Presence'))). Bay View 2003. Honorable Mention 2005

'Coal Seams' ( Schreiner R. 2013) Sdlg. MM 425-1. TB, 41" (104 cm), Midseason bloom. Standards dark purple (RHS 89B); Falls slightly darker purple (89A); beards dark purple. 'Badlands' X GG 378-A: ( 'Dark Passion' x 'Thunder Spirit'). Schreiner 2013. Honorable Mention 2015

'Suspicion' ( Keith Keppel, R. 1998). Seedling 93-83H. TB, 38" (97 cm), Mid bloom season. Standards greyed greenish yellow (M&P 19-DE-1), central area blended aster violet (45-F-7); style arms greenish yellow (19-C-1), lavender lip; falls light greenish yellow (19-B-1), slightly darker margins (19-C-1) and shoulders (20-K-1), giving russet green to oil yellow (12-L-1) effect; beards yellow (10-L-6); pronounced sweet fragrance. 'Wishful Thinking' X 'Spring Shower'. Keppel 1999.

This is Normal, I Swear...

By Vanessa Spady

As happens to many of us who have fallen in love with irises, my plans, schedule, diet, and social life are all drastically altered when bloom season approaches. It’s just a truth that I have learned to acknowledge, and have had to gently acclimate the important people in my life to this as well.

You, too, may suffer from Seasonal Monopolistic Iris Lallygagging Epidemic (SMILE).

I know the month and week varies regionally, but for me the syndrome begins in March. See if you recognize any of these symptoms in yourself:

• A willingness to allow otherwise important life activities to lapse

• A surge in getting up extra-early to walk through your garden to see if any buds have developed

• A sense of urgency to repeat the above activity several times daily

• A refusal to heed weather conditions that would otherwise keep you indoors

• A complete disregard for social engagements that would cause you to be away from your garden for more than ten hours

• A compulsion to count—and recount—the buds and stalks forming on your iris

• Several sets of otherwise “past their prime” garments kept on-hand for sudden excursions to your garden to adjust sprinklers, fencing, and other items that might interfere with the growth of buds

• A strong drive to look at photos of irises you already own in anticipation of your own blooms

• A lack of social skills in any arena not directly related to your buds, blooms, hybridizing, or other critical maintenance of your iris garden

• An aversion to having any “wildcard” elements in your garden, such as children, pets, neighbors, less-attuned spouses and friends, and anyone possibly less obsessed with irises than yourself

These are serious symptoms, and if you find that you recognize yourself in any of the above listed behaviors, do not panic! The good news is that you are going to be fine. Bloom season is limited, and chances are you will be able to resume a somewhat normal life within two to three weeks after the last bloom appears. It helps if you have someone in your life who also has SMILE, and you can have a “buddy system” for ensuring that you eat, sleep, and bathe enough to keep gardening.

I also find it helps if you can acknowledge to those around you, early on if possible, that you will be subject to SMILE when your irises begin to form stalks. Their understanding that you will be influenced by SMILE for a short period each Spring will allow you to re-integrate into your normal life with fewer apologies required.

Let me see if my story will help you in your recovery from SMILE:

I go out to my garden as often as five times a day when the buds are forming. I count them. I write down which ones form on which dates. Then, when they begin opening, I write down which ones open on which date. I make a photo box (more on that later), and shoot the blooms on the first day they open, as early in the morning as possible. I take multiple photos of each first bloom, sometimes as many as 20 each, to ensure I have a good, focused shot. I will then shoot the same blooms around day 3 (or day 2 if it has been warm), to compare the progression of the bloom.

I enter all this data into my computer.

I get up as early as possible so that I’m in my garden in the earliest part of the day, with the best light, to catch the blooms as they first open.

AND I have been helping my friend Chris hybridize, which means spending hours each weekend morning, as early as we can, harvesting anthers, hybridizing, record-keeping, tagging, photographing, and of course, admiring all the new blooms.

I do this until it is too hot, or too late to hybridize (yes, here in central California, it can get too hot to work outside after about 11 am, even in early Spring). So once I am forced inside by the heat, I can download all my photos, catalog the data, and then start sharing them online. Maybe, somewhere in there, I will remember to eat.

Soon after that, it begins to cool down, and I go outside to start watering and checking for new blooms. I do this until after dark. Perhaps I might come inside and eat, and have a shower. If I’m not too tired.

It only lasts a few weeks... that’s my justification for ignoring friends, family, pets, work, other chores, housework, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and pretty much the rest of my life. The heat here means our bloom season comes fast and doesn’t last too long, so I give myself up to my garden as much as I possibly can. I SMILE, and I’m not afraid to admit it.

So, good-bye normalcy, hello SMILE. Iris, you really got a hold on me. See you next year, ok?

A fraction of the results:

'Orange Harvest' ( Bennett Jones, R. 1986). Seedling #74-34-5. TB, 32" (81 cm). Midseason bloom and rebloom (late October in Oregon). Bright medium orange; red beard; slight fragrance. 'Orange Chiffon' X seedling #69-24-5: ((( 'Spanish Gift' x 'Marilyn C') x Shoop seedling #63-18) x (( 'Spanish Affair' x 'Marilyn C') x Hamblen seedling #H5-35)). Aitken's Salmon Creek Garden, B Jones 1988.

'Can Can Dancer' ( Larry Lauer, R. 1997) Sdlg. 91-195. TB, 36" (91 cm), Midseason bloom. Standarads and style arms yellow; Falls purple, edged brown, shoulders yellow; beards mustard; ruffled; slight sweet fragrance. ('Edith Wolford' x 'Ragtime') X (('Edith Wolford' x 'Ragtime') x M. Dunn M78-657, 'Personal Friend' sib). Stockton 1997. Honorable Mention 1999.

'Let's Fly' (Schreiner, R. 2015) Seedling TT 1024-C. TB, 34" (86 cm), Midseason bloom. Standards yellow (RHS 8A); Falls veined purple-violet (81B), edged yellow; beards orange. KK 914-A: (CC 1402-2: ('Burgermeister' x AA 1638-A: (S 324-40: ('Latin Lady' x  'Bristo Magic') x 'Leading Edge')) x CC 760-A, 'Bold Fashion' sibling) X 'Jamaican Dream'. 2015 Schreiner.

'Revere' (Joseph Ghio, R. 2001). Seedling 97-36B. TB, height 40" (102 cm). Very early to early mid season bloom. Standards white, yellow halo; style arms white, fringed gold;Falls white, blue rim; beards gold. 95-36C. 'Impulsive' sibling, X 'Dear Jean'. Bay View 2002.

'Crystal Gazer' ( Keith Keppel, R. 2002). Seedling 96-45D. TB, 34" (86 cm), Midseason bloom. Standards medium violet blue (M&P 42-FG-8/9) paling (42-C-7) toward edge; style arms light violet blue (42-C-7); Falls blue lilac (42-BC-4) paling to silvery lilac white center; beards lilac lavender (42-BC-2/3), soft ibis pink (1-B-10) in throat; ruffled, lightly laced. 'Lotus Land' X 'Fogbound'. Keppel 2002.

'Trajectory' ( Paul Black, R. 1997). Sdlg. 91207A. SDB, 13" (33 cm), Midseason bloom. Standards dark purple; style arms white, edged purple; Falls darker purple, white luminata patch; beards white; pronounced spicy fragrance. 'Black Star' X 87130J: ( 'Chubby Cheeks' x 85319B: ( 'Gentle Air' x 'Chubby Cheeks' sibling)). Mid-America 1997.

'Lip Service' ( Joseph Ghio, R. 2000) Seedling 96-153Q. TB, height 34" (86 cm), Early, midseason, late bloom. Standards violet, paling to apricot at edge; style arms apricot pink; Falls apricot with violet overlay; beards light tangerine. 94-170K, 'Stage Lights' sibling, X 'Entangled'. Bay View 2001. Honorable Mention 2004.

Have Rainboots, Will Garden

By Vanessa Spady

Although we have endured several years of drought here in central California, everything turns green when the rains of  El Niño arrive. We recently got some steady showers (hooray!), which means a switch from monitoring to make sure things aren't too dry to ensuring things aren’t too wet. It’s a nice change, and I’m glad it's my biggest concern in the garden right now. There’s still a lot to do out in our gardens, even though it’s raining and not quite Spring.

Several days of steady, fairly heavy rain means that our creeks all have water and my rain gear stays by the door.  I don’t make a practice of gardening in a downpour, but I will confess I can't stay inside while it's merely soggy and inclement. And with the heavier rain, I did need to spend a bit of time keeping an eye on the drainage in the kiddie pool beds. For the first six or seven storms, they drained beautifully, and the rhizomes were in nice, firm condition. This last deluge, however, exceeded the capacity of the holes drilled in the bottoms of the pools. The result was standing water in several of the pools, even four hours after the rain had stopped. That was a surprise, since they’d done so well up until that point. Here’s what I saw:

A pool full of ‘Ensign’ and about a centimeter of standing water. Not good!

So, on with my Wellingtons, and my barn jacket, and my trusted rubber gloves. I chose the largest drill bit in my collection, mucked to the bottom of the pool in several low spots, and drilled two holes in each pool that had standing water. Presto, problem solved. I have been watching closely each time it rains, and so far, that has done the trick. The rhizomes have stayed nice and firm, and all but one now has lots of new growth... whew.

Extra caution is needed when the ground is this wet, since, as I’ve mentioned before, our soil can turn to pudding very quickly. So as I make my rounds, I tread carefully, and thanks to my Wellies, I can cover most of the sloped terrain without trouble. I definitely do not recommend kicking a ball for your dogs while in your rainboots on a wet slope. Yes, I slid and fell. The ground was so delightfully soft (and so was I) that I wasn’t injured. I was wet and muddy, and the dogs had no sympathy, so I sulked for a few moments and then got over myself. Note to self: Galoshes don’t offer much traction. Sigh.

Green slopes, mud puddles, and dogs chasing their tennis ball. Doesn’t look hazardous, right? Ha!

The early bloomers are starting to open, one by one, and the beds are all starting to be full of nice tall, green growth. Spring is certainly right around the corner, and as we enter the Best Part of the Year (in my humble, iris-loving opinion), I expect to be outside in the garden anytime it’s not dark or I’m not at work. Hundreds of hours have gone into our test garden, and we’re about to see if our unconventional methods will pay off. Finger crossed, eyes peeled, and camera at the ready!

I'll leave you with one of my early bloomers, from a raised bed. Can’t wait for the rest to put on their big show!

'Thick And Creamy' (John Weiler, R. 1977). Sdlg. 73-50A-1. TB, 36" (91 cm). Extra early to midseason bloom. Ruffled white, blended primrose yellow (HCC 601/3) with slightly darker hafts; light primrose yellow beard. 'Wedding Vow' X 7-OB: ('White King' x 'New Moon'). Rialto Gardens 1978.

There’s A Time-Warp in My Garden

By Vanessa Spady

My blog updates and my actual gardening progress are a bit out of step, so this post is about the fun we had planting our first set of rhizomes way back in October. I encourage you to read it, even though, since this part of the process was both fun to do and funny to read about.

Although I work, and have six dogs, eleven 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 the day I am about to tell you all about, I garden 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 that weekend in the garden. First, the inside of my house could convince you that border collies have opposable thumbs, and second, I was 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 don’t have a wife. Normally, my utterly darling husband steps up and makes a huge dent in the household chores, but he was out of town that weekend, and so I came home to the mess I’d made the day before, 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 rhizomes have all arrived (bought online, and from the San Fernando Valley Iris Society, who are just the loveliest people around). Six yards of very nice loamy, amended soil was delivered. So, no more obstacles, right?

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 95 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 dragging my computer around the garden. Or worse, relying on my memory...

Any tags 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-ish 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 yellow bloom loses it’s zing next to a similar 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 was with Chris’ help. 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 that 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. I painted the tires for the early bloomers (because black tires in our climate will simply bake the roots of any rhizomes), so they finally got planted, too. Then I finished 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 that first day commenced:

It started out hot, 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 delightful company. 

You don’t have to guess that it’s genius at work when you see we’re using the hood of the car to lay out our magic envelopes and create the masterful final designs (cough, cough).

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. This all the room it takes to plant approximately 140 rhizomes. Yeah, I was surprised, too!

This was the trial layout before the tires were painted. The final layout is pretty much just like this preliminary version.

This is where the magic happened that first day. 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!

You, too, can work for nine hours and have this to show for it! But, finally, rhizomes in the soil. Once the layout was in the database, we removed all the lovely tags, so the plants can just look natural. And relaxed. Like me.

There has been so much progress since these shots, so keep your eyes peeled for the next update. I can’t wait to share it all with you! And I keep my promises: here is a lovely photo of Doctor Who, a dynamite performer that I just love.

'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.