The Middle…. Perennial Joy.


For most of my adult life, I have planted perennials in my garden, mostly in the form of bulbs, for their…well, their perennialness. Not a word; I know, but it suits my intentions perfectly. What I love most about tulips and daffodils, and all the other perennial bulbs, is the fact that you put them in the ground in the waning days of summer, as fall brings cooler nights and leaves change color, and they pop up each spring to remind you of the hard work you did months before. Just when you need a boost, a reminder that summer will come again, the little green heads pop up, and weeks later, the colorful buds. What’s not to love?

(Tulip: JoAnn, for my grandmother, JoAnn and my birth name)

In our old home in Michigan I planted approximately 4,000 tulips and daffodils on our 35 acres over about four years, most of them in the front circle of our driveway.  I started out with a few hundred the first year we lived there, a crazy endeavor to say the least. I had small children, no friends yet, and our house was far from neighbors: our own Eden. There were 300+ wooded acres behind us, a golf course on another side.  Our 35 acres with 100+ apple trees, wrapped around our house and provided a beautiful palette for plantings. So, I planted, and I planted some more.  There were years where I was out there in the freezing mud, until early December, determined to get my bulbs in the ground!

Prior to our move to Michigan, we had been living on the 20th floor of a high rise apartment in Chicago for seven years, while Smart Guy did his training. My kids had grown up with sirens blaring all day and night (our apartment adjacent to the Emergency Room of Northwestern Hospital) and all the action and stimulation that a big city offers.  Planting bulbs, having a garden, seemed part and parcel of being a young mother in the country. I wanted to create a piece of the world that Martha constantly showed me on TV. I envied Martha’s beautiful world and perennials were one way to claim a small piece of that. Sweet, colorful beauties, that would not only come up each year, but reproduce on their own and spread each year.

Here in Washington, it’s hard to compete with the epic displays in Skagit Valley, each year during Tulip festival. In addition, the deer seem to wait until I’ve let my guard down (late winter) and come each year to bite the heads off about 1/3 to a 1/2 of my babies. Without fail, just about the time I start thinking Hmm, I’d better put out some dried blood out there (yes, I use that stuff!), I wake up to find tracks throughout my flower beds, and ragged green stubs. While I know it’s terrible stuff, from a terrible place, nothing makes deer sniff and yell “Run Bambi, the thicket! Faster! Don’t look back!” like dried blood. Yet each year, I seem to think of this, the very day they come for my bulbs. I’ve tried other awful things, trying to save my tulips, but the deer always win at least a few of my sweeties.

   

   

(Skagit Valley, WA beauty. Personally, I believe Holland can barely compete with these scenes!)

There are few things in life that are as predictable and easy as spring bulbs, and perennials, and that’s why I love them so much. I can count on them each and every year.  I dig a whole, put some bone meal (yep, another yucky thing) in there with them, and then go about my fall and winter. The snow comes and goes; the cold only strengthens the bulbs, they expect it, they need the cold temperatures. Then, when I’m wishing for the spring to come, there they are, a gift for my patience and hard work. Sometimes I still dream of our old house, and the gardens I left there. In each dream, my house has been altered, the rooms moved and the grounds split up for development, but always, always, the tulips still come up. One year, I will visit there in the spring and see if my Michigan babies are still coming up, still blooming. It’s a perennial thing.

  

 

  

(My garden: Tulips, my crazy allium which will produce enormous white and purple poms (in summer I have some crazy Dr. Suess like ones!), primula and grape hyacinth, for the wooded areas.)

Do you garden?  What is your favorite thing to plant?  No doubt you’ll see these pictures and be even more jealous about where I live; or tell me why your home rocks. Either way, show me some love. Like this post, and if you haven’t already, visit the Facebook page and hit like on there. Thanks!

And to make that even clearer:

Stop! Really. Read this.  Please note:  Pin me, tumbl me, share me, like me!  Check out the Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/TalesFromTheMotherland. Please take a moment and Like it (the page, not just a post). If you enjoy these posts hit “Like” and make me smile. It also helps my blog grow and that is the point.  Thanks!  Then, be a good dooby and “Share” them with others. Better yet Like them; Share them and then do something nice for yourself: “Subscribe.” You won’t get any spam; you can sign up with an anonymous name (I won’t know who you are, unless  you tell me), and you will get an email each time I post.  Think of it as a free gift to yourself.  You know you want to. Go ahead, make my day!

About Dawn Quyle Landau

Mother, Writer, treasure hunter, aging red head, and sushi lover. This is my view on life, "Straight up, with a twist––" because life is too short to be subtle! Featured blogger for Huffington Post, and followed on Twitter by LeBron James– for reasons beyond my comprehension.
This entry was posted in Beautiful places, Beauty, Blog, Honest observations on many things, Life, Musings, Natural beauty, Nature, Wonderful Things and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to The Middle…. Perennial Joy.

  1. Beautiful photos. I’m not a gardener. Growing up on a farm sort of did it for me.
    But love it when people give me bounty from their gardens! Good luck with your flowers.

    Like

  2. pinkagendist says:

    I garden… but I’m not good at it. My survivors are oleanders, nasturtiums a bottle brush and a scrawny jacaranda- everything else died or is in the process of dying, or will die in the future 😀

    Like

    • Wow, Pink, you commented! Wow. I’m honored. 🙂 It must be that Spanish climate! I’d hate to tell you that gardening does involve helping the plants actually live… We know you have passion to spare, so just get out that watering can and do it baby! It’s very Zen, and it might help with the cigarettes and booze. Wink wink. Have a wonderful day Pinkster.

      Like

  3. Maryanne says:

    Lovely ode to spring!

    Like

  4. Pingback: Blooming Thursday: Random Gifts and Neighborhood Rifts | gardeningnirvana

  5. Valery says:

    As I read this, my aunt & uncle are touring the gardens of Keukenhof. A love of gardening runs deep in my family. I have been neglecting my own lately, due to a most uncooperatve spine – your post has planted a fresh, new seed of inspiration!

    Like

    • Maybe it’s time to do something about that spine? I happen to know a very good spine doc who could look at any xrays/scans/ you’ve had. If you haven’t had them, you should! That said, be careful in the garden; it’s tough on the spine! Seriously, hope you get some help soon friend. It’s miserable stuff!

      Thanks for always reading and supporting. 🙂 xoxo

      Like

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