Amaryllis

Showy and Vibrant Amaryllis

By Amy McDowell

My first amaryllis only bloomed once and then it died. Yes, I followed the directions. I tucked the bulb, pot and all, into a cool dark closet and left it there—too long. Oops. By the time I pulled it out of the closet, the bulb had shriveled up to a dry papery husk. It turned out the directions were poor and I had guessed wrong on a few of the important details. It was years before I grew amaryllis again, but I’m so happy I gave them another try. Here’s how to do it right so they will bloom year after year for you.

Potting Amaryllis

·         Amaryllis blooms are stunning, but buying three bulbs and planting them all in a wide, shallow pot is even more breathtaking.

·         Buy quality potting soil. It will work much better than that light, dusty peat mix that comes in amaryllis kits.

·         Place the bulb so that the top half is above the soil level. The bulb needs to have about an inch of space on all sides.

·         Water it well over the sink, and then set it in a warm location. If you set it on top of a warm appliance, like the refrigerator, the bottom heat will push it to flower more quickly. Don’t leave the pot on a bottom heat source for more than a week.

Care after Blooming

·         You can remove the blooms as they fade, but wait until the bloom stalk starts to whither and collapse before cutting it off.

·         The bulb will still have leaves, so treat it like a regular houseplant until spring.

·         In late May or early June, set the pot outdoors in a shady spot where you will remember to water it. You will have healthy green leaves all season, which are making energy for the next bloom cycle.

·         In late September, let the pot go a little drier, and then in early October, take it into a cool dark basement. You are pushing the bulb to go dormant and rest for about eight weeks. Don’t cut the leaves off until they have turned brown on their own. Little or no water is needed.

·         In early December, bring the pot out. You only need to repot the bulb if it is bursting out the sides of the pot. Water thoroughly, and the blooms are on their way again.

Amaryllis are available with single blooms, double blooms, and in miniature. They come in red, orange, pink, peach, blush, white, and bicolors. You can find amaryllis at the local garden center, or by contacting any of the following sources: Amaryllis Bulb Co. at 888/966-9866 or www.amaryllis.com; McClure & Zimmerman at 800/883-6998 or www.mzbulb.com; John Scheepers, Inc. at 860/567-0838 or www.JohnScheepers.com.

Amy McDowell is an Iowa Certified Nursery Professional. She has an associate’s degree in commercial horticulture and has worked in the field for ten years. She lives and gardens in Polk County.

 

Forcing Bulbs

Flowers for your winter windowsill

By Amy McDowell

Snowflakes are flying and the tulips I ordered last spring sit naked in the breezeway, huddled together in their mesh sack. Shame on me. They should’ve been tucked snugly in the ground a month ago. But I know I’m not the only one. During a potting soil expedition to the garden center two days ago, I saw crate upon crate of bulbs—and they weren’t even on clearance sale.

Now, with my huge 3-cubic-foot bag of potting soil, I’ll pot those leftover tulips, chill them and force them to bloom indoors this winter.

Tulips, Daffodils, Hyacinth, Crocus and Muscari are all great for forcing into bloom indoors. Their tender presence will usher spring into your home.

Any pot will do—potting can be as simple as placing one bulb in a disposable plastic party cup with decorative aquarium gravel for support and water to the bulb’s base. I’m not sure how tulips would fare in this environment; they seem to require potting with a little more dignity, but most Daffodils, Hyacinth and Crocus bloom easily when grown in a simple setup. Hyacinth and Crocus vases designed to suspend the bulbs above a water reservoir are another easy solution, and with extra bulbs stored in a paper bag in the fruit drawer of your refrigerator, you can pop a new bulb into the vase each time the bloom fades.

For potting, use quality lightweight potting soil. Press soil into the bottom of the pot, set the bulbs in snugly with the pointy side up and cover with soil. Vigorous bulb roots in containers will heave the soil, so leave the soil an inch below the rim of the pot. Cover the soil with decorative pebbles or moss if you wish. Then place the potted bulbs into a cold storage area. Temperatures between 35 and 48 degrees Fahrenheit are ideal. If you store them in a cold frame, unheated garage, attic, porch or breezeway, you’ll have to insulate them with several heavy blankets or a generous layer of mulch or straw. Allow a 15-week cold period for Tulips, Crocus and Muscari, 14 weeks for Daffodils and 12 weeks for Hyacinth.

Here’s hoping every one of those leftover bulbs at the garden center brings a scent of spring into someone’s home this winter.

Amy McDowell is an Iowa Certified Nursery Professional. She has a degree in horticulture and has worked in the field for ten years. She lives and gardens in Polk County.

Add a little curb appeal

Forays into the front yard

By Amy McDowell

The 100-foot tall honeylocust in my in-laws’ front yard was the tallest tree in their neighborhood. It had a trunk nearly 4 feet wide. It stood on the corner of their front yard and shaded their two-bedroom cottage for all of the 15 years they had lived there. Leafing out golden yellow in spring, it filled the sky with a light green canopy of dappled shade during the summer and showered the ground in the fall as tiny golden leaflets fluttered down like confetti. A wren house mounted on the side hosted a dainty couple and a new brood of hatchlings each season.

Then an October ice storm eight years ago brought the honeylocust crashing down in a shattered wreck of jagged wood and leaf litter.

Although devastated, my in-laws took little time to grieve. Ever anxious to keep a tidy yard, they sprang into action. They bagged leaves and twigs and piled branches on the curb for city yard waste pickup, hired one company to drop and haul off the decapitated trunk that had been left standing, and hired another company to grind out the stump.

While I was still mourning the loss of the tree, my mother-in-law was brushing the sawdust from her gloves and envisioning something new for her front yard. “I’d like to put in a new bed,” she said. “Something with a lot of color.” And off she went to the garden center. She returned with a tree, a half a dozen shrubs, some annuals, a concrete birdbath and a new wren house.

We hauled in three granite boulders and edged the two lower sides of the bed with stone pavers. My in-laws planted the ‘Autumn Sunset’ maple first, about five feet from where the honeylocust had stood. My mother-in-law hung the birdhouse on a high branch with the hope that her annual visitors would return to the strange new surroundings. Groupings of red pygmy barberries and golden privet fill the bed with color, and clusters of bright red annuals sing along the sidewalk. The wrens did return, and the birdbath drew crowds. My mother-in-law so enjoyed the activity through her kitchen window that she added a bird feeder.

Before their front yard venture, their neighborhood had nothing but garnish-around-the-turkey, home-hugging landscapes and driveway-to-driveway turf. My trendsetter in-laws were the first to break ground with an island bed in the front yard, but by the following spring, many neighbors were following suit and planting new front yard beds.

With this one bed, my in-laws added curb appeal, reduced their mowing and maintenance, attracted wildlife and began a new landscaping movement in their neighborhood. The loss of their immense shade tree ended up turning into something wonderful. “Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” says my mother-in-law.

Amy McDowell is an Iowa Certified Nursery Professional. She has a degree in horticulture and has worked in the field for ten years. She lives and gardens in Polk County.

Monster Spider in the Praire

Prairie Life

By Amy McDowell

My little brother and I saw the giant sinister spider at the same time, and our voices combined into one terrified, high-pitched squeal. Screaming nonstop, we raced through the prairie up the hill towards home, Mom, and safety. I was perhaps five, so Jeremy would’ve been four, and the tall prairie grasses towered several feet over our heads. The prairie was a labyrinth, but we knew home was up the hill.

We spewed, screaming, from the wild prairie onto our neatly mown lawn. Wide-eyed and breathless, we told Mom about the horrific spider. She was fascinated, and said she’d like to see it. Jeremy and I stared at her with our mouths hanging open. Surely, she was joking. Nope – she wanted to see the grotesque monster spider.

We agreed to go only after Mom promised that she would stay right by us. Reluctantly, we led her back into the prairie, seeking the spider. We looked and looked, but couldn’t find it. Our fears subsided and it became a challenge to find it, to prove to Mom how really scary it was.

Finally, we gave up and went back to the top of the hill. Mom returned to her laundry on the clothesline, and Jeremy and I stood on our tiptoes peering down the hill over the prairie. It was the next season before we had the guts to venture in by ourselves again.

My memories of the fear are distinct, but details of the spider’s appearance are long gone. Today I think the spider we saw was probably an orb weaver. The black and yellow argiope orb weavers have bold markings and perch in the center of their large flat webs. They can grow to be three inches from toe to, well, toe.

These days I see orb weavers in the summertime garden frequently, but my reaction to them has changed. I feel joyous, for I take them as a sign that my garden is environmentally healthy. I know they won’t harm me; they are predators of the insects in my garden. They are doing me a favor.

I have grown to love prairies and the fascinating hum of life within them. When I visit the 5,000-acre prairie at the Neal Smith National Wildlife Refuge near Prairie City, the sound of the wind through the tall grasses soothes me to the soul. It is so peaceful it takes my breath away.

Amy McDowell is an Iowa Certified Nursery Professional. She has an associate’s degree in commercial horticulture and has worked in the field for ten years. She lives and gardens in Polk County.