I recently spent the entire day digging up roots in the flower beds on each side of the front porch and loosening the dirt so I could plant the bulbs I had ordered. I seem to be a tad stiff for the next couple days. And I don't even like to garden. I don't even fertilize the lawn. (Now why in the world would anyone want to do that?)
I'm definitely not one of those people who can't wait for spring so I can go out and dig in the dirt and if anything grows, it will be a wonder. I didn't plant things as deep as they told me, or as far apart and I'm not even sure I planted things right side up.
Where the tree was taken out because of the abundant carpenter ants that had taken up residence in it, there is a big bare spot, so I made it into a bigger bare spot and put a blue rose bush in the middle. Not sure I planted that right either. I read after I planted it, that you are supposed to soak the roots in water first, which I did not, though I did pour water in the hole in which it was to be planted. Maybe that will count. Then I surrounded it with creeping red sedum, which is a ground cover of beautiful low red flowers that last from spring to fall (either here or in China.) I ordered it via mail and had long tendrils coming from it. I'm not sure if they are the roots or the plant part that's to stick up above the ground. How am I supposed to know which end is the creeping end? So I went with my best guess and hope for the best as well.
What I have yet to do for my 4red, white and blue garden is to get some kind of white flower to plant around the periphery, providing everything grows. I have to ask someone what is a good kind of low white border flower. I want perennials--something I don't have to plant every year. I like bulbs, as they are basically a once-and-done type plant as I understand. I was mortified when I had planted gladiolas the first year I was here and then my aunt told me I had to dig them up in the fall.
"THAT'S NOT FAIR," I protested. "They are bulbs! You are supposed to be able to plant bulbs and they do their thing year after year. Low maintenance--that's my style plant. If they die so be it, they deserve it. I'm not digging them up, nurturing them in the basement throughout the winter, and then replanting them again in the spring. If they don't get it right the first time like any decent, self-respecting bulb, they can just pout and commit suicide. (And they did.)
I didn't even know where, exactly, I had planted them without digging up the whole garden, then I wouldn't have known them from the rest of the 125 bulbs I had planted (all of which I later learned, I had planted upside down.) I didn't know you were supposed to mark things with little markers. Now I have Popsicle sticks where the bulbs are. They aren't marked with what kind of flower is there because that would come off. And I don't even care what kind of flower is there. Surprise me. I just want to know when I'm digging around, what not to remove because I seem to have a lot of onions growing around in there and they seem to be bulbs--or bulbous anyway. I can't tell the difference.
I also planted 3 thornless red raspberry bushes in the back along the fence. We'll see if I can get to the bounty before the birds. I don't mind sharing, but would like some, as red raspberries are my favorite berry, though I don't expect a crop before next year. I'm hoping God will do the watering. He usually does such a good job every year; a stellar job I depend on, but especially this spring, He did this well before I planted anything.
The next day I tackled planting the bulbs that had come in the mail for the right side of the front porch that had been in the shade of the tree that is no longer there. That meant loosening the dirt enough to accomplish this, and removing the weeds that had endeavored to grow there in the last couple years. But I persevered and got planted what I wanted there.
I was feeling pretty good about that feat too, until I attended a baby shower the next day and began a conversation with a seasoned gardener. In my telling her about my bulbs, she said, “I have one of those bulb planters that allow you to drill a hole into the dirt to the exact depth the bulb is supposed to be planted.”
She described it and I said, “That’s exactly what I have, but I didn’t know it told the right depth. I thought it was just to allow a person to drill holes in the ground. Then I’m in trouble, because I didn’t plant them anywhere near that deep. In fact, they appeared to be sprouting, so I didn’t want to stifle their growth by burying them too deep, so I only planted them two or three inches down.”
“Oh, no, they have to have the stems and they need to be at least six inches down,” she countered.
I’m also pretty sure I planted them too close to each other. Sigh.
In going back and looking over my garden, I saw all the Popsicle sticks sticking up like little tombstones. I hope that’s not what they will become. But worse, the south side of the porch; the one that has gotten all the attention over the ten years I’ve lived there, where I have planted numerous other bulbs, was now over run with day lilies. The plants were so thick, it’s impossible to see to the bottom or the ground. They appear to be crowding everything else out and they are in so deep, they can’t be pulled out. I decided I’d have to soak them real good and make the ground soft enough to dig them out.
I tried that. It didn’t work. I thought maybe I could pull them out by the roots and give them to the church to plant in their memorial garden, but quickly decided they weren’t budging. Most of the few I tried to pull out, broke off. Eventually, I got the heavy duty tree pruners and cut them off to as near ground level as possible, then went in with a garden claw and twisted each plant stub until I could pick it out of the soil. Man, what hardy plants they are! And stubborn! Now I know why they are called day lilies! It takes about a day to get rid of them.
Their numerous roots go deep, like, somewhere to the southern hemisphere and they are in a huge ball that has to be prodded and coaxed, pulled at and dug. Then there are little bulbous things that I tried to make sure I included in the excavation so they would never grow back. In that process, I found several other different looking bulbs that they had choked out. They were of flower bulbs I had long forgotten. I don’t know what they are, but I shall replant them and see, as they hadn’t seen the light of day for a long time and I planted them because I liked them. There may not be any life left in them. I don’t really know how bulbs work. Hopefully, I got all the day lily pieces that can reproduce, but I’m going to keep an eye out for them and if they start up, I’ll snatch them out of the ground.
Now my task is to take some of the other bulbs I planted too close together a few days ago and spread them out over the big bare spot left in the day lilies absence. Another big sigh. Yikes. If these old bulbs grow or even the replanted ones, it’s a miracle. I was never good at planting, let alone re-planting.
I’ve been advised to pray over them. Good idea. God knows how they are supposed to work, and He also knows that I don’t.
