We're making progress on the farm. The rain has let up some and we are hoping to accomplish a good bit this morning.
This is a short clip about a few of the things that are blooming right now.
This is a short clip about a few of the things that are blooming right now.
I went looking for a yellow mushroom today that I saw last week. I wanted to take a picture when I saw it, but as always I was in a hurry to be some where. Today it was gone. I looked everywhere for another one. My travels across the farm, down through the woods, a walk by the creek, behind the barn, and everywhere else produced no yellow mushroom, but I did stumble across some other treasures.This first plant is what some people call the butterfly weed, but we’ll call it the butterfly flower! Scientifically it is known as Asclepias tuberosa. This one was blooming along the front fence line.
I don’t know what some of these mushrooms and lichens are called, but they are fun. I think this first one kind of looks like a Reese’s peanut butter cup. 
The passion flowers (Passiflora sp.) continue to bloom and spread all over the ditches.
I have asked the dog to please stop finding all of the poor turtles and bringing them to me. If we are moving along, I tell him to drop it. I put it in the woods and we keep walking. If we are working in the field, it doesn’t matter how far away I put the turtle, when I am not looking, Fisch sniffs his way until he has found it. The next time I look up from harvesting, he’s brought it back to his “lay down” spot, wherever that happens to be for the moment.
The bulbs are trying to dry out, but the rain continues to trigger all of the Crinums to bloom. At the top of this posting is a picture of the water dropping off the petals of one of our Crinum 'Ellen Bosanquet.' Here are some more shots of C. ‘Ellen Bosanquet.’ This was one of the crinums we sold on the website this year, and I hope everybody’s are doing well.
All of our Crinum ‘Rose Parade’ bulbs are beginning to bloom. They are a dark colored, free flowering hybrid worthy of being grown in any garden (climate permitting). I would have taken more pictures, but by the time I arrived home yesterday evening I was wiped and I had guests. Here is a photo from last week. I am also going to take a picture (once the sun is up) of the Crinum ‘Ellen Bosanquet’ bulbs that we have blooming. The amazing thing about these, is that in order to increase their propagation, I took a hack saw to their basil plates and cut a star pattern about 1/3 of the way up the bulb. They all have green foliage and many are blooming! Felder Rushing, a garden personality in Mississippi told me at the Dallas Farmers Market a few weeks ago that he has a clump of crinums that he has left of the driveway for several years now and they continue to grow and bloom every year.
Lots of work on the farm today and better get to.
Lots of work on the farm today and better get to.
The sand I was working with began to darken. It became heavier and started to stick together. Then it started to stick to me and my shovel. I looked up and my evening had come prematurely, as I saw the sky darkening. The heavy clouds were determined in their movements to fully envelope the sky. I yelled over to John and Brad who were helping me move Crinum ‘Rose Parades’, “We can call it if you want to.” They just quickly glanced up and kept digging. We were already dirty, already soaked now, so everybody decided to just keep working. On top of that, we were in a bad mood, because the gophers had moved from their normal delicacy – our tulips— into our Roman hyacinth plots set on the sides. (A “bad mood” can really keep you moving sometimes.) The heavens opened up with their deluge as we were finishing and as the last of the crinums were transferred from one plot to the next, Erin pulled around the corner. She had just come from Dallas, and she had lasagna, sloppy joes, and key lime pie. My brother’s wife really knows how to win your heart over!
We cleared the field, and we plan to harvest the rest of the oxbloods from that plot in a couple of weeks. Then we will put in another summer crop, although it will be a month late getting into the ground. There is a pear tree in the field there, and it makes a lot of pears, but they’re really not the best eating. They never ripen and the tree has been so mismanaged, it has a bad form and narrow crotch angles. I think we might have to take it out. It would go along with our theme of cleaning that is going on. We killed another copper head by the cold frame, bringing our count to two now. It was no small snake. I don’t mind snakes really, but copperheads are not welcome on the farm.
The gophers did get into our Roman hyacinth plots. Why oh why our Romans? Please stop eating our bulbs. We were planning to put some of them on the website for sale this year, but I think we will have to hold back the ones that made it and keep propagating them for a couple of years now. Bulbs are so slow to start with, and then to have this set back with one of your rare bulbs. The good thing is that at least a sampling from of each of our sources has remained, so we have not lost the genetic pool. We still have the early grays, the blue/violet purples, the whites, etc. But oh how it hurts!
The morning after we had cleared the field, I had some tractor work to do before I drove into Dallas for a lunch appointment. I went to switch out the implement, and after slicing my hand and getting my clean clothes greasy, I found this implement had broken sometime over the past 6 months. We had another though and I switched them out and finished my work. By this time, I was late for Dallas and still had bags to pack, etc. I showered, switched clothes, and was running around trying to get everything together. Fischer, notorious for having to smell everything, managed to stick his dirty nose over my pair of newly cleaned slacks. I lost my temper and didn’t know what to say and just yelled “Stop nosing me!” Brad looked up from what he was doing in the office, and I felt silly. As if the dog could understand what I was saying or even a sillier thought is that I could hope to live and work on a farm and keep my pants clean.
I made it to my lunch appointment at Café Pacific in Highland Park Viliage—a nice little spot in Dallas— without any time to do anything with my dog. I looked for a shady spot and found something half shady. As I walking to the café, the sun came out and I realized the spot wouldn’t work. I asked the valet guys if they could do something, and they were gracious enough to find a shady spot, but it happened to be right in front of the restaurant. If they were o.k. with a dirty farm truck there in front, it worked for me. I walked in and sat down for lunch, and had a good view of the cars from the window. I saw the valet gentleman pull up in my truck, with the dog sitting next to him, and then I knew, when he left the door open too long, what was going to happen. My eyes and conversation wondered from my guest, as I saw the seen unfold. We now had a Weimaraner loose in Highland Park Village. 5 valet guys couldn’t get him as he slipped off his color off and ran up to the classy lady getting out of her sporty red car. Fischer just wanted to be her friend, but he’s no small dog and she quickly hopped back in her car. I managed to call him, load him up in the truck, made my apologies, and finally sat down for my lunch. Never a dull, or rather, always an embarrassing moment. I would like at this moment to once again thank all of my A&M Corps of Cadets buddies for buying me such a wonderful companion this last Christmas.
I was supposed to drive to San Antonio, but Dallas ran long and by the time I had finished my appointments, the Central Expressway was completely stopped, and an accident had happened on I-35 South. I opted for a game or racquetball with an old friend at the SMU (Southern Methodist University) courts in time to let the traffic die down. Racquetball with this old friend can be more like football, and if I wasn’t sore enough from the farm work, I was definitely done in now. I decided to stay in Dallas and leave for my 9AM appointment south of San Antonio the next morning. My 3:30 AM departure turned into a 4AM departure with the dogs (my friend and his wife also have a Weimer) getting loose amongst the condos again. We rounded them up and I made it to my appointment by 9:20.
And now here I am, in Boerne, Texas. My appointment this morning went well and I look forward to explaining it one day. Three of us had burgers at “Fat Cowboys” in Pleasanton, Texas. Pleasanton claims to be “the home of the cowboy”. Our conversation turned towards that of families, and grandchildren. “I’ve got two more in the hopper” one man exclaimed. The other gentleman with us chimed in “he’s got grandchildren growing like grass.” I laughed internally, smiled externally, but was really beginning a serious afternoon lull. One gentleman offered his sofa for a nap, and I took the offer. After a rough wake up, I made the drive for a BBQ this evening in Borne, and am waiting here at a Starbucks for it to start (Starbucks always has a reliable wireless service). Here tomorrow, then off to Houston on Monday. Why do I mention all of these things? Believe it or not, they are all related to flower bulbs. I wanted to visit a Crinum grower today, but our schedules just didn’t mesh.
Had to take some pictures for the new website, and only one was used, but I thought they were fun pics so I’ve included some. Mostly crinums. Poison ivy once again, but really, who cares at this point. I’m just going to itch for a few months until the field work is over.
First I am going to write about the other Crinum bulbs I mentioned, and then I will give mention to ever exciting events around here.
We still have Crinum jagus blooming. Ours is a variety handed down to us by one of the authorities on Crinum in the South, and we were given it as Crinum jagus ‘Rattrayi.’ Of the C. jagus varieties, Scott Ogden writes in his book “Garden Bulbs for the South” that the “best forms of this tropical African crinum, such as the cultivar long grown in the in the South as ‘Rattrayi’, smell deliciously of vanilla.” (Ogden p. 196) We only get one bloom per bulb per year, and it generally comes earlier in the year for us. This late in the year, the snow white tulip shaped blossoms have a hard time holding on and the tips of our petals develop a black, almost burnt tip. On the other side to that, perhaps there is no equal in the crinum world for the large attractive foliage that stays “clean” all year round. This variety is a little tender so be careful with it, especially in Zones 7 or lower. It is pictured above with a pearl bush to the right.
There is a narrow leaved form of this ‘Rattrayi’ that we are growing, and we believe it to be Crinum jagus scillafolia. Thank you to all who helped in the ID. The blooms look very much like the regular leaved jagus variety and they have the same fragrance, but the attractive foliage takes on a much more narrow appearance. It seems an oxymoron to have a narrow leaved form of a bulb that’s name (jagus) is derived from “a corruption of the word gigas (“gigantic”) [referring] to the lush, dark green foliage of these bulbs.” (Ogden-196). By the way, if you have not picked up the new version of Scott Ogden’s book “Garden Bulbs for the South” you might enjoy the new pictures, write-ups, and revisions.
The blooms on our crinums are becoming shorter and shorter with the heat. Some of them open up in the morning and are drooping in the afternoon—kind of like me. It was 94 degrees in the pole barn yesterday, with high humidity. A special thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Burton for all of their help. They were both instrumental in developing the infrastructure of this farm with the wiring and laying of pipe, and I can’t thank you enough for your help in harvest and the barn yesterday. Erin continues to come out and help also and we remain thankful!
Some excitement yesterday. What do these pictures have in common?
There is a copperhead in them. He was a decent sized copperhead, and we really didn’t enjoy having him behind the barn. Perhaps he was stalking the oversized rat we also had a visit from yesterday.
We continued our harvest in the field. Slow going with the heat but we are making progress. Slow and steady wins the race, or as Chad Jones father (Superintendent of a school district in South Texas) used to say “Inch by inch it’s a cinch, mile by mile it takes awhile.” I’m sure he wasn’t the first to say it, but it’s where I heard it.
Brad’s fiancé sent us an article yesterday from MSN Lifestyle about what kind of dogs owners should have. I particularly enjoyed that the dogs that are specifically NOT recommended for a hectic lifestyle are Weimaraners. Reminds me of my recent trip to London.
What do you do when you need to leave on an international trip for a week, and you have an 80lbs hyperactive dog that remains in a “puppy” stage for almost 2 years? You ask some girl you hardly know in Houston to leave him in her apartment of course. Now before you start thinking something shady, this came through reputable connections! Upon returning home from the UK, I was really surprised that all had gone well with the dog. I decided that I needed to take her out to dinner to say thank you. So we left Fischer in a room and Gus, her Great Dane in another as we headed to a nice restaurant in Houston.
Had a wonderful dinner, and when we got back to her apartment I cautiously opened the door and was horrified to see that Konig Fischer had chewed on part of her futon base. It was fixable though. It wasn’t until I opened the door all the way that I noticed he had torn through her dry wall trying to get into the other room. Why? Why dog? I spent the night spackling dry wall. Not really the whole night. There was only so much I could do until the spackling dried. She took care of the rest later and was extremely gracious, but I think that is the last I can call for that favor. The debt is turned and I am indebted. Thank you my Houston friend.
And she pulled out the priceless joke when she e-mailed me:
"One tub of spackle.....$4.00
A quart of red paint....$5.50
A rambunctious traveling partner....priceless"
How appropriate that as I write my blog, Fischer, who chewed grass all day while we harvested, has just thrown...I'll say "left the grass".... on my carpet in the office, and it is no small spot. How I love cleaning up after my dog at 5 in the morning, dodging sleeping guests who are helping with the harvest. We love our dogs and cats and whatevers, but we always seem to step in their water bowls in the morning, have to clean up their messes at inopportune times, and are always making apologies for their behavior towards guests. The training with my dog continues and I hope by the time we open to the public I will have him where he needs to be.
No visitors yesterday and all work, which is where I must go! John and Cpt. Burton had some fun later in the evening with the new fly rod. The bluegill really tug on those lighter rods.
New website almost ready!
We still have Crinum jagus blooming. Ours is a variety handed down to us by one of the authorities on Crinum in the South, and we were given it as Crinum jagus ‘Rattrayi.’ Of the C. jagus varieties, Scott Ogden writes in his book “Garden Bulbs for the South” that the “best forms of this tropical African crinum, such as the cultivar long grown in the in the South as ‘Rattrayi’, smell deliciously of vanilla.” (Ogden p. 196) We only get one bloom per bulb per year, and it generally comes earlier in the year for us. This late in the year, the snow white tulip shaped blossoms have a hard time holding on and the tips of our petals develop a black, almost burnt tip. On the other side to that, perhaps there is no equal in the crinum world for the large attractive foliage that stays “clean” all year round. This variety is a little tender so be careful with it, especially in Zones 7 or lower. It is pictured above with a pearl bush to the right.
There is a narrow leaved form of this ‘Rattrayi’ that we are growing, and we believe it to be Crinum jagus scillafolia. Thank you to all who helped in the ID. The blooms look very much like the regular leaved jagus variety and they have the same fragrance, but the attractive foliage takes on a much more narrow appearance. It seems an oxymoron to have a narrow leaved form of a bulb that’s name (jagus) is derived from “a corruption of the word gigas (“gigantic”) [referring] to the lush, dark green foliage of these bulbs.” (Ogden-196). By the way, if you have not picked up the new version of Scott Ogden’s book “Garden Bulbs for the South” you might enjoy the new pictures, write-ups, and revisions.
The blooms on our crinums are becoming shorter and shorter with the heat. Some of them open up in the morning and are drooping in the afternoon—kind of like me. It was 94 degrees in the pole barn yesterday, with high humidity. A special thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Burton for all of their help. They were both instrumental in developing the infrastructure of this farm with the wiring and laying of pipe, and I can’t thank you enough for your help in harvest and the barn yesterday. Erin continues to come out and help also and we remain thankful!
Some excitement yesterday. What do these pictures have in common?
There is a copperhead in them. He was a decent sized copperhead, and we really didn’t enjoy having him behind the barn. Perhaps he was stalking the oversized rat we also had a visit from yesterday.
We continued our harvest in the field. Slow going with the heat but we are making progress. Slow and steady wins the race, or as Chad Jones father (Superintendent of a school district in South Texas) used to say “Inch by inch it’s a cinch, mile by mile it takes awhile.” I’m sure he wasn’t the first to say it, but it’s where I heard it.
Brad’s fiancé sent us an article yesterday from MSN Lifestyle about what kind of dogs owners should have. I particularly enjoyed that the dogs that are specifically NOT recommended for a hectic lifestyle are Weimaraners. Reminds me of my recent trip to London.
What do you do when you need to leave on an international trip for a week, and you have an 80lbs hyperactive dog that remains in a “puppy” stage for almost 2 years? You ask some girl you hardly know in Houston to leave him in her apartment of course. Now before you start thinking something shady, this came through reputable connections! Upon returning home from the UK, I was really surprised that all had gone well with the dog. I decided that I needed to take her out to dinner to say thank you. So we left Fischer in a room and Gus, her Great Dane in another as we headed to a nice restaurant in Houston.
Had a wonderful dinner, and when we got back to her apartment I cautiously opened the door and was horrified to see that Konig Fischer had chewed on part of her futon base. It was fixable though. It wasn’t until I opened the door all the way that I noticed he had torn through her dry wall trying to get into the other room. Why? Why dog? I spent the night spackling dry wall. Not really the whole night. There was only so much I could do until the spackling dried. She took care of the rest later and was extremely gracious, but I think that is the last I can call for that favor. The debt is turned and I am indebted. Thank you my Houston friend.
And she pulled out the priceless joke when she e-mailed me:"One tub of spackle.....$4.00
A quart of red paint....$5.50
A rambunctious traveling partner....priceless"
How appropriate that as I write my blog, Fischer, who chewed grass all day while we harvested, has just thrown...I'll say "left the grass".... on my carpet in the office, and it is no small spot. How I love cleaning up after my dog at 5 in the morning, dodging sleeping guests who are helping with the harvest. We love our dogs and cats and whatevers, but we always seem to step in their water bowls in the morning, have to clean up their messes at inopportune times, and are always making apologies for their behavior towards guests. The training with my dog continues and I hope by the time we open to the public I will have him where he needs to be.
No visitors yesterday and all work, which is where I must go! John and Cpt. Burton had some fun later in the evening with the new fly rod. The bluegill really tug on those lighter rods.
New website almost ready!
We have been receiving a lot of rain and our crinum lilies love it. First let me mention the crinum ‘Carroll Abbott.’ For one thing, I always remember how to spell it because all of the consonants are doubled. Another characteristic that will forever remain with me is that it is one of the darkest, almost burgundy striped Crinum x herbertii crosses (C. scabrum X C. bulbispermum). Might I a also remind the reader that the last time I wrote about this, I mentioned that my blooming bulbs had been dug and left in a garage bare root for over three weeks before I was able to put them in the ground. They still bloomed marvelously, but their foliage is taking a while to look as nice! Like a lot of Crinum x herbertii crosses, it bloomed in the early summer for us. I don’t think we will have another bloom for the season, but I will definitely post one if it does. Our other "Milk and Wine" crinum bulbs continue to hold on. 
There is a white Crinum x powellii that I have been enjoying. Jenks Farmer with Lushlife Nurseries talks about this Crinum as one of the “early Victorians” from around the 1830’s. That would fit with the story behind ours. It was given to us from a lady near El Campo Texas, and she received it from the granddaughter of the Texas Revolutionary fighter, A.C. Horton, and she had it from the Horton’s days in Alabama. One of the large bulbs has now sent up four blooming stalks. We have another little row of Crinum x powellii ‘Album’ that were produced in Holland, and we will let you know how they compare.
I looked through my notes to find my earlier references to the native Hymenocallis found in Texas. The reference to Hymenocallis liriosme can be found in “Journey to Mexico During the Years 1826 to 1834: Vol II” by Jean Louis Berlandier. This is another picture of Hymenocallis ‘Tropical Giant’ from our stock. More to come on the Parrot gladiolus (now Gladiolus dalenii), and our two forms of Crinum jagus that have filled the office with their subtle but full vanilla fragrance.
A quick note on Brad. We helped him move in, but it was not his weekend! Once finished with unloading, he left to take the u-haul back, but after his 22 point turn to drive out of his back entry, he clipped the gas meter opening up the gas line that could be heard half a block away. After calling 911 twice (the first time they referred him to the gas company that didn’t come out), the fire department came and plugged the hole. They are going to bill him later-not going to be small. We cancelled our board game and called it an early evening. Yesterday morning, as Brad was heading back out here, I had a call about 4:30AM. “No, I don’t see your computer here,” was my response. Yes, his second night in his new home and somebody had broken into his truck and stolen his computer (and a few of his pain pills). He filed the police reports and insurance reports and then kept working.
On that note, if you or anyone you know has filled out a customer referral form over the last 6 weeks, they are now lost. That would include garden centers that have filled out request forms—we will not be able to mail you your packets unless you resubmit the information. We are very sorry for the inconvenience.
Yesterday John and Brad cleaned out the pole barn while I spent the day catching up on paperwork, bills, filing, etc. Always puts me in a bad mood, but Fischer brought me a present to cheer me up. How ironic, after a day of cleaning, to conclude with removing the dead rabbit from the floor with all of it hair spread in a nice pile. It involved a lot of vacuuming and carpet cleaner. Brad made fun of me when I lightly coated the carpet cleaning filter in a spray of bleach, but it is sometimes a battle against the wild out here and I don’t want a colony of fleas living in the office.
Had some visitors yesterday. "Chris, do you hear women laughing?" Brad asked me. I looked out the window and there they were! We're not open to the public for several reasons, mainly that Brad and I don't shave or dress up nice, and that we have a little lake that forms when it rains which our UPS driver calls Lake Golden (I think he likes coming here). We don't post our physical location, but this crew went to the local domino hall and asked about the crazy guys farming flowerbulbs. All the old farmers (who play dominoes everyday) told them to call another lady who knows about us and somehow they found us! They were a nice crowd, but we had the barn laid out across the field, a trash pile burning, and I had bank statements, bills, etc. strewn across the office. Best right now to keep the browsing on the internet, and we will let you know when we open up because we definitely plan to do so!
This picture on top is of a Hymenocallis ‘Tropical Giant.’ I am going to write more on it tomorrow, but it was in perfect form yesterday evening and this morning. Just so you have some basics before I write about Hymenocallis, there are many different varieties, one of which is native to Texas and seen by the early French explorers (H. liriosme). This variety is more cold hardy than most and blooms in late June, early July. It has attractive rosettes of foliage that stay a nice glossy green.
Last year we didn’t receive these summer thunderstorms. In fact, we had about two years of consecutive drought. All of the sweet potato farmers talked for two years straight about selling out completely. Most reduced their acreage, maybe one sold off his equipment, but for the most part they all replanted. If everybody except one person decided not to plant, than that one person could receive higher prices. Perhaps that thought, or some other remaining glimmer of hope of gain, persists enough to keep things going as they usually do. They are all going to do much better this year.
We are working in between the rains to keep the harvest going. Early morning hours with an occasional nap in the afternoon for me (Brad has the curse of the inability of nap taking), then back out for work in the shade sorting throughout the afternoon. Evening takes us back into the open field, and it is staying light almost to 9PM now. After dark we catch up on e-mails and computer work. Not a moment to be lost. I always say about East Texas, that it is a battle of man verses nature. If you were to take a nap on the forest floor, I think you would compost in about 2 hours. With the quality of water and soil, life here simply grows fast.
Thus the age old struggle continues, working with the abundant resources that fall into our responsibility and lately we have had some help. Yesterday there was no nap involved (for a good reason), as my brother and his wife came out to help on the farm. We finished almost two 500 ft rows and were fortunate enough to have afternoon cloud cover. Erin, my brother’s wife, cleaned my office! What a delight it was to walk into a vacuumed floor and pledged desk. Then she came out for field work in the evening. As the day grew old, the pastor of the local Golden Baptist church, Pastor Hardy, came by for a visit. I was on the tractor at the other end of the field when I spotted him on his hands and knees digging bulbs with the crew.
Rain has forced me back into the office for the day. We are almost done with the new website and will soon open up the initial offerings of Byzantine gladioli. The outdoor clothing from Ex-officio will be back up, and with the mosquitoes the way they are this year, I suggest everyone take a look at the Buz-Off clothing line. The site will also include some exciting international imports that we have worked to bring over—the products are from hard working European families and we are proud to partner with them. So much more to come, but in the mean time we will continue the efforts to have your bulbs out of the ground and packaged for you in time for fall.
On the pictures, I know there are a lot of people in them, but right now more than ever it is people that are helping make this business run. Thus, more people are in the photographs. From top to bottom: Hymenocallis ‘Tropical Giant’, a picture of my brother with Fischer and an old fashioned Crinum ‘Milk and Wine’ (the light played had a nice effect this morning), everyone in the field harvesting—including Fisch and Brad in the background, brother and wife Erin who helped clean and harvest, harvested bulbs, slow moving Brad in the morning, Pastor Hardy, and a blooming Habranthus robustus with the seed pod of an earlier flower a few weeks ago. To Dallas this weekend to help Brad move into his new home! Congratulations Brad and Katie.
Last year we didn’t receive these summer thunderstorms. In fact, we had about two years of consecutive drought. All of the sweet potato farmers talked for two years straight about selling out completely. Most reduced their acreage, maybe one sold off his equipment, but for the most part they all replanted. If everybody except one person decided not to plant, than that one person could receive higher prices. Perhaps that thought, or some other remaining glimmer of hope of gain, persists enough to keep things going as they usually do. They are all going to do much better this year.
We are working in between the rains to keep the harvest going. Early morning hours with an occasional nap in the afternoon for me (Brad has the curse of the inability of nap taking), then back out for work in the shade sorting throughout the afternoon. Evening takes us back into the open field, and it is staying light almost to 9PM now. After dark we catch up on e-mails and computer work. Not a moment to be lost. I always say about East Texas, that it is a battle of man verses nature. If you were to take a nap on the forest floor, I think you would compost in about 2 hours. With the quality of water and soil, life here simply grows fast.
Thus the age old struggle continues, working with the abundant resources that fall into our responsibility and lately we have had some help. Yesterday there was no nap involved (for a good reason), as my brother and his wife came out to help on the farm. We finished almost two 500 ft rows and were fortunate enough to have afternoon cloud cover. Erin, my brother’s wife, cleaned my office! What a delight it was to walk into a vacuumed floor and pledged desk. Then she came out for field work in the evening. As the day grew old, the pastor of the local Golden Baptist church, Pastor Hardy, came by for a visit. I was on the tractor at the other end of the field when I spotted him on his hands and knees digging bulbs with the crew.
Rain has forced me back into the office for the day. We are almost done with the new website and will soon open up the initial offerings of Byzantine gladioli. The outdoor clothing from Ex-officio will be back up, and with the mosquitoes the way they are this year, I suggest everyone take a look at the Buz-Off clothing line. The site will also include some exciting international imports that we have worked to bring over—the products are from hard working European families and we are proud to partner with them. So much more to come, but in the mean time we will continue the efforts to have your bulbs out of the ground and packaged for you in time for fall.
On the pictures, I know there are a lot of people in them, but right now more than ever it is people that are helping make this business run. Thus, more people are in the photographs. From top to bottom: Hymenocallis ‘Tropical Giant’, a picture of my brother with Fischer and an old fashioned Crinum ‘Milk and Wine’ (the light played had a nice effect this morning), everyone in the field harvesting—including Fisch and Brad in the background, brother and wife Erin who helped clean and harvest, harvested bulbs, slow moving Brad in the morning, Pastor Hardy, and a blooming Habranthus robustus with the seed pod of an earlier flower a few weeks ago. To Dallas this weekend to help Brad move into his new home! Congratulations Brad and Katie.
It was a busy week at Southern Bulb as we continue to harvest on the farm. I wrapped up my activities on Thursday early and headed to Ft. Worth to catch a flight the next day for my old home in Bakersfield, California for a wedding. It will be a quick trip because there is so much to do right now.
Bakersfield is where I first began to study horticulture, under the direction of some wonderful mentors. The first person to teach me to dead head roses was my pastor when I took care of his yard growing up. Soon, the nice ladies down the street had me watching over there gardens and tending to their roses. I bought books on how to plant bare root roses and trim fruit trees (California is famous for its fruits and nuts—Almond prices have been sky high for the past few years). I learned about rose breeding from Dr. Sproul whom I looked up to for his knowledge on roses and admired for his wonderful family. Mrs. Schmidt took me to the American Rose Society meetings and helped me prepare my first introductions of roses into the judging contests. I don’t think I won a single ribbon, but I learned a lot!
It was my knowledge of bare root roses that led to my first plant rescue. My school had been located north of town to a place called Shafter, which is near another town called Wasco that is famous for roses. A person had dropped off a dozen bare root roses at the entrance to the school, visible from the office. That year I was the treasurer for the Student Body Council and I knew the office staff very well because everyday I would use the office to collect and count the money from the vending machines (it’s amazing how much money you can make off of cokes and candy bars—probably easier than selling bulbs). I was in the office when the roses were dropped off and the office was just going to let them die, so I asked if I might plant them. The idea sounded good to them and the schools first garden was created at the entrance. Two years later I received a “beautification” award and shortly after that the school moved its campus again and the garden was lost.
I studied at my local junior college (Bakersfield College) for a year in their horticulture program under Mrs. Foy. It was there I met some wonderful friends and plant people like Rodney, whom I have not seen for years but I know is doing something great in the world of horticulture. I would walk to my classes at Bakersfield College from my home. During a plant ID course, the instructor didn’t have an example of a Pyracantha sp., so in the middle of class I ran home and grabbed a cutting from our yard and took it back. The local “Dairymaids” gave me a scholarship to help pay for that year of school.
My yard is where I had the first experience with a red tulip that I mention in all of my talks. I went to a local garden center, White Forest, and purchased in the fall what I considered to be a rock in a box that had a beautiful picture on it. I planted my rock and forgot about it. Four months later we had one of the wonderful spring rains that cleared the sky and made the light crystal clear. We had both doors open, one door opened into the backyard that backed up to a bluff with the Sierra Nevadas now clearly visible due to the clean sky, and the front door open to the flowerbed where I planted my rock. I was laying on my stomach in the middle living room between the doors being lazy on that Saturday afternoon, and when I looked out front, there was my rock, turned into a striking red tulip.
Last night I walked through the front doors and stepped into this middle room, perhaps my last “coming home” I will ever have. That is the reason for my details about ol’ Bakersfield. The house is not the same, because it has been prepared for sell. Most of the furniture is gone. The ceiling fans have been replaced with a chandelier and other light structures (I guess ceiling fans aren’t popular any more except for private rooms?) The fire places have been painted over. Some of the cabinets are gone, and the others repainted. All of the acoustic (popcorn) ceilings are gone and the rafters are repainted. The place echoes with its emptiness.
I went outside to the back last night, and thought the dog might soften this blow, but the dog was across town at a friend’s. The backyard did bring back familiarity. There was my (or mom’s) peach tree that I had pruned from its youth into the mature, peach loaded tree that it now is. Dad and I scrambled over to the apricot tree to indulge in the ripening fruit. My brother and I planted that tree after we spent two weeks straight of our summer pulling out a pepper tree. On the other side yard, the plums were all ripe, and dad and I leaned out and over with fruit and hand, trying to eat them without spilling the juice on our white shirts. In the background was the potting bench dad and I built out of plans in a magazine. It’s still standing strong. Along the brick wall the black berries were ripening and some were already perfect. I walked barefoot through the rest of the back gardens. You can do that here and not worry about ticks, chiggers, mosquitoes, etc. Many a night I have slept outside in the hammock.
Many of the roses had bloomed out, and the jasmine no longer carried its delightful fragrance, but there were some other showings. Just like in Texas, the gladioli were all blooming. Many of our agapanthus were shooting up new stalks, and the oleanders were in full bloom. In the entry way, some overzealous gardener had trimmed back our bougainvillea, but some of its colorful bracts could still be seen spilling over the atrium wall. The split leaf philodendron had grown to the point where I can finally accomplish my 15 year old goal of tying coconuts to the stems with orchids growing out of them. I wanted to do this to remind my parents of the time they lived in the Philippines, where their gardeners would employ that technique to cover up the bare trunks. All of the palm trees were trimmed up, and for the first time I could see how the sago palm had finally grown to a decent size.
There are so many plants we will leave behind as well as memories; so many friends too. But life is about looking forward and not back. I will miss the dinners on the deck over looking valley filled with acres of oil wells. Through the middle of the wells you can see the Kern River and follow it into the foothills of the Sierras, and on clear days we can see Mt. Whitney. Those are the mountains I worked in as a teenager. I always say they are where I grew up, where I saw my first bear, coyote, mountain lion, and caught my first trout by crawling on belly and casting a fly into a creek not more than three feet across. Even as I write this posting, my computer is plugged into the electrical socket that I used for my first makeshift motor that I had wired a plug into. I blew out the electricity to the house that day.
OK that’s enough and I thank you all for letting me share. We all have our childhood experiences, but it was only the second house I had ever known. The first was in Kingwood, near Houston, where I probably had as many fun experiences running the then undeveloped woods. In the end though, they’re just structures, mere shadows of things that we really miss, like the people and social gatherings. Here’s to the future, and congratulations Mel on your wedding!
Bakersfield is where I first began to study horticulture, under the direction of some wonderful mentors. The first person to teach me to dead head roses was my pastor when I took care of his yard growing up. Soon, the nice ladies down the street had me watching over there gardens and tending to their roses. I bought books on how to plant bare root roses and trim fruit trees (California is famous for its fruits and nuts—Almond prices have been sky high for the past few years). I learned about rose breeding from Dr. Sproul whom I looked up to for his knowledge on roses and admired for his wonderful family. Mrs. Schmidt took me to the American Rose Society meetings and helped me prepare my first introductions of roses into the judging contests. I don’t think I won a single ribbon, but I learned a lot!
It was my knowledge of bare root roses that led to my first plant rescue. My school had been located north of town to a place called Shafter, which is near another town called Wasco that is famous for roses. A person had dropped off a dozen bare root roses at the entrance to the school, visible from the office. That year I was the treasurer for the Student Body Council and I knew the office staff very well because everyday I would use the office to collect and count the money from the vending machines (it’s amazing how much money you can make off of cokes and candy bars—probably easier than selling bulbs). I was in the office when the roses were dropped off and the office was just going to let them die, so I asked if I might plant them. The idea sounded good to them and the schools first garden was created at the entrance. Two years later I received a “beautification” award and shortly after that the school moved its campus again and the garden was lost.
I studied at my local junior college (Bakersfield College) for a year in their horticulture program under Mrs. Foy. It was there I met some wonderful friends and plant people like Rodney, whom I have not seen for years but I know is doing something great in the world of horticulture. I would walk to my classes at Bakersfield College from my home. During a plant ID course, the instructor didn’t have an example of a Pyracantha sp., so in the middle of class I ran home and grabbed a cutting from our yard and took it back. The local “Dairymaids” gave me a scholarship to help pay for that year of school.
My yard is where I had the first experience with a red tulip that I mention in all of my talks. I went to a local garden center, White Forest, and purchased in the fall what I considered to be a rock in a box that had a beautiful picture on it. I planted my rock and forgot about it. Four months later we had one of the wonderful spring rains that cleared the sky and made the light crystal clear. We had both doors open, one door opened into the backyard that backed up to a bluff with the Sierra Nevadas now clearly visible due to the clean sky, and the front door open to the flowerbed where I planted my rock. I was laying on my stomach in the middle living room between the doors being lazy on that Saturday afternoon, and when I looked out front, there was my rock, turned into a striking red tulip.
Last night I walked through the front doors and stepped into this middle room, perhaps my last “coming home” I will ever have. That is the reason for my details about ol’ Bakersfield. The house is not the same, because it has been prepared for sell. Most of the furniture is gone. The ceiling fans have been replaced with a chandelier and other light structures (I guess ceiling fans aren’t popular any more except for private rooms?) The fire places have been painted over. Some of the cabinets are gone, and the others repainted. All of the acoustic (popcorn) ceilings are gone and the rafters are repainted. The place echoes with its emptiness.
I went outside to the back last night, and thought the dog might soften this blow, but the dog was across town at a friend’s. The backyard did bring back familiarity. There was my (or mom’s) peach tree that I had pruned from its youth into the mature, peach loaded tree that it now is. Dad and I scrambled over to the apricot tree to indulge in the ripening fruit. My brother and I planted that tree after we spent two weeks straight of our summer pulling out a pepper tree. On the other side yard, the plums were all ripe, and dad and I leaned out and over with fruit and hand, trying to eat them without spilling the juice on our white shirts. In the background was the potting bench dad and I built out of plans in a magazine. It’s still standing strong. Along the brick wall the black berries were ripening and some were already perfect. I walked barefoot through the rest of the back gardens. You can do that here and not worry about ticks, chiggers, mosquitoes, etc. Many a night I have slept outside in the hammock.
Many of the roses had bloomed out, and the jasmine no longer carried its delightful fragrance, but there were some other showings. Just like in Texas, the gladioli were all blooming. Many of our agapanthus were shooting up new stalks, and the oleanders were in full bloom. In the entry way, some overzealous gardener had trimmed back our bougainvillea, but some of its colorful bracts could still be seen spilling over the atrium wall. The split leaf philodendron had grown to the point where I can finally accomplish my 15 year old goal of tying coconuts to the stems with orchids growing out of them. I wanted to do this to remind my parents of the time they lived in the Philippines, where their gardeners would employ that technique to cover up the bare trunks. All of the palm trees were trimmed up, and for the first time I could see how the sago palm had finally grown to a decent size.
There are so many plants we will leave behind as well as memories; so many friends too. But life is about looking forward and not back. I will miss the dinners on the deck over looking valley filled with acres of oil wells. Through the middle of the wells you can see the Kern River and follow it into the foothills of the Sierras, and on clear days we can see Mt. Whitney. Those are the mountains I worked in as a teenager. I always say they are where I grew up, where I saw my first bear, coyote, mountain lion, and caught my first trout by crawling on belly and casting a fly into a creek not more than three feet across. Even as I write this posting, my computer is plugged into the electrical socket that I used for my first makeshift motor that I had wired a plug into. I blew out the electricity to the house that day.
OK that’s enough and I thank you all for letting me share. We all have our childhood experiences, but it was only the second house I had ever known. The first was in Kingwood, near Houston, where I probably had as many fun experiences running the then undeveloped woods. In the end though, they’re just structures, mere shadows of things that we really miss, like the people and social gatherings. Here’s to the future, and congratulations Mel on your wedding!
It has been wet but the plants sure have enjoyed it. Brad and I awoke early yesterday morning to finish some late plantings (3AM) and we managed to get the truck stuck! Waiting for it to dry out today so we don't ruin the bulbs we planted around it. Not much time to get into the field before it becomes too hot for the day, but a here's a quick quip. Somebody graciously gave me a Crinum 'Carol Abbott' that was not a 'Carol Abbott' but rather a Crinum x herbertii. Still a beautiful plant, but it goes to show how difficult it can be sometimes with the proper naming of crinums. 
Now, somebody else gave me some 'Carroll Abbott' bulbs. They sat dried out for 3 weeks in a black plastic bag in the garage of this persons house. I planted and watered them and they have shot up some wonderful distinct, easily identifiable 'Carol Abbott' blooms. They are beautiful.
Now, somebody else gave me some 'Carroll Abbott' bulbs. They sat dried out for 3 weeks in a black plastic bag in the garage of this persons house. I planted and watered them and they have shot up some wonderful distinct, easily identifiable 'Carol Abbott' blooms. They are beautiful.
If anybody is worried about Fischer, he's doing fine.
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