I love to grow things from seeds and those that can be sown directly in the ground are my favorite. Last fall I purchased a packet of California poppy seeds. Not that I need any more of those self- seeding orange poppies. But this packet was different. California poppy, Eschscholzia caespitosa dwarf Sometimes called the Tufted poppy or Foothill poppy it is native to the Chaparral community of plants from Oregon through California to Baja California.
Always on the lookout for dwarf plants for my rock gardens I thought I would give them a try. I noticed some rather spindly looking shoots some weeks ago doubting that they would amount to much. We have been so dry that I decided they were not doing well because of the lack of rain, so I watered them. They responded by growing and flowering in the space of two weeks with lovely bright yellow blooms. They are only 6" tall, perfect for a spot between the rocks. I wish now I had sowed the whole packet instead of putting a few seeds in 3 areas. A big Next Year for these little poppies.
Sometimes illustrations on seed packets disappoint, but not this one.
Alas, another packet of seeds disappointed me this year. Double Click Blend, Cosmos. I grew these same flowers last year and they had gorgeous, frilly blooms. This year among the 20 seeds in the packet not one of them is frilled. In fact several are plain run-of-the-mill cosmos. It is too late for me to grow them again this year so it will be another case of hoping for better luck Next Year.
We spent the morning moving the citrus into position in the potager and the plants that are staged at the ziggurat steps. Or rather I directed as David did the lifting, carrying and placing. Those citrus pots are heavy and some of the other plants are vicious, particularly Aloe marlothii. Honestly, I felt terribly guilty asking him to do a job that someone of our age shouldn't be doing. I made him a promise that he will never have to move the Aloe marlothii again. It will either survive or die in that spot. I don't think it is ever going to reach its full potential which is to flower with gorgeous orange blooms. Possibly because it spends the winter in the garage which is not place to induce winter blooming.
Always an unplanned combination of plants is likely to bring a Next Year moment, but how often is it repeated? And what of those beautiful red flax flowers. Last year I said more Next Year and I have exactly 2 clumps of them. The seed packets sitting idle in the laundry room. But once again I can say Next Year and hope it will be. The years are slipping away!
Our septic filed is another Next Year dream. For years I tried to grow wildflowers but none ever came. In an attempt to reduce the fertility of the soil we started gathering the grass when mowing and directed our sprinkler heads into the wooded area. And after 2 years it seems to be working. There are many clumps of bluebonnets several blanket flowers and I can just visualize that Next Year it will be a wildflower meadow, and if not next year then the next year.
I think "next year" is what keeps a lot of gardeners going - and, who knows, we may live longer for the emphasis on positive thinking. I'll have to look for those yellow poppy seeds. I planted a California poppy labeled 'White Linen' years ago, which I loved, but it hasn't been good at coming back, although I discovered yesterday that I've got at least one clump blooming in that color. I've had a surprisingly hard time getting California poppies to grow from seed, much less self-seed. Part of the problem is the blasted raccoons, which like to rummage in my newly seeded areas, and part of it's been related to our persistent drought, but the decent winter rains may make a difference this year.
ReplyDeleteThose Poppies are gorgeous! Yes, I can imagine them popping up all over your amazing garden next year. I wonder if you scattered seeds now if they would bloom in April? Yes, gardeners do say "next year" quite a bit, don't we?
ReplyDeleteYou've spurred me to devote tomorrow morning to a task that has been "next year"-ing its way out of the line of fire for longer than I like to admit: marking the location and ID of the longest-planted daffodils here, which at 30 years on are way overdue for lifting and dividing. They're still blooming strongly, which is both a testament to the quality of the varieties my father chose (Ice Follies, Carleton, Ceylon, Las Vegas, Barrett Browning, Yellow Cheerfulness) and an excuse for my serial procrastination.
ReplyDelete"Next year" the gardener's mantra. Every year I buy bags of seed to direct sow. They either never make it into the dirt or when they do we are too dry and they don't come up. However, we gardener's are an optimistic lot hence, our mantra.
ReplyDeleteNext Year could be the name of a garden blog. The hope for next year's garden is what keeps us all going, right?
ReplyDelete