Sometimes you feel like you’re being hunted.

(And not just if you’re a cemetery iris, oxblood lily, Crinum Mrs. James Hendry, or any of the other bulbs I’ve hunted myself in recent weeks.)

Living in a small, rustic, red cabin in East Texas certainly has its charm, but when the brown recluses, beetles, wasps, and other critters invade my home – as they have done throughout the week, likely seeking relief from the heat – I find myself wanting to get away every now and then.

The little red cabin... Looks idyllic, but it's sweltering and full of unwelcome, six- and eight-legged guests during the summer!

The top photo show Jason Powell, owner of Petals from the Past, greeting me at the barn, while the photo below it shows the main office of Petals from the Past looking peaceful in the morning light.

Clockwise from top left: Fresh-picked heirloom tomatoes on the porch of Jason's home; Rudbeckia hirta, aka "Gloriosa Daisy," with a darker color around the center of the plant in Jason's garden; beautiful petunias in a hanging basket on the porch; Rudbeckia "Indian Summer," with an all-yellow center; Jason's vegetable garden; Jason relaxing on the back porch.

Jason and his wife, Shelley, along with their cat, sent me away with freshly picked blackberries and blueberries for the remainder of my drive. The blackberries were gone by Mississippi, while the blueberries didn't make it past Louisiana!

Nothing beats the taste of fresh, home-grown berries in the summertime!

After a meeting in Birmingham, it was time to return home, but not before admiring some extraordinary bulbs in Louisiana just east of Monroe.

From left to right: Lilium tigrinum, commonly known as a tiger lily -- notice the little black bulbils at the base of the leaves. It is another form of propagation for them. In the center, a Crinum Mrs. James Hendry looks lovely in the morning light. And at right, a pineapple lily, Eucomis sp.

Now it’s back to the little red cabin, with its unreliable air conditioning and a beautiful vintage oven – a 1950s Tappan – in need of a repair. A repairman stopped by yesterday and diagnosed her as needing a new thermostat. Guess she just can’t keep up with the escalating temperatures here in Texas! We’re nearing our 20th day this year of triple-degree temperatures, so I’m careful to hydrate well while out on the farm. I hope the rest of you avid gardeners are doing the same.

A few crinums from the farm adore this charming, if not perfectly calibrated, Tappan oven and stovetop.

Despite the heat, our bulbs continue to do well, both in the ground and in floral arrangements. The cut crinums Southern Bulbs has been selling through Garden Style are really showy, as you can see.

Chris, just wanted you to know, my crinums are magnificent! Thanks so much.

The gophers must have been desperate to chew through these plastic crates!

Maybe it’s time for another trip? :)

Labels: bulb, bulb-hunting, cabin, crinum, cut flowers, lycoris, oxblood

A haphazard congregation of oxblood lilies

The Pickens began telling me about a giant crinum blooming nearby. It turns out it was a Crinum Powellii "Roseum," which Southern Bulbs sells, along with the white Crinum Powellii “Album” variety. As I listened to Mary Anne share her hope of one day digging up the nearby crinum and making a home for it, I couldn’t help but think of the pile of broken shovels I have amassed trying to liberate several crinums whose roots have grown and strengthened to the point that extraction becomes impossible.

Another garden friend in Southeast Texas shared this photo of blooming Crinum Powellii "Album."

Reenergized by such a pleasant visit, I stopped and said "hello" to another gardening friend in the area, whose stunning Crinum Mrs. James Hendry supply was in full bloom. I was tempted to steal a few, but again, visions of the shovel graveyard danced in my head. We are working on having more of the Mrs. James Hendry variety available soon, once I invest in a double-reinforced titanium steel shovel.

A "glamour shot" of a Crinum Mrs. James Hendry

A Crinum Mrs. James Hendry in Southeast Texas. We're working to build up our inventory of this stunning bloom.

Expect more news from the farm soon, as I have just returned from a business trip to Mississippi where I stayed at a 1920s home a few miles outside of Monroe. The fireflies illuminated the dusk on Thursday night as this small town’s entire population filled the stands of a modest baseball field to cheer on the high school team.

A crow perched atop the old Mississippi home where I stayed

It was difficult to leave such a Rockwellian scene, but duty called. I returned to the farm to rebuild the cold frame that succumbed to an accidental fire last year and last seasons devastating winds.

Lucky for me, crinums are much easier to plant than they are to extract; I am spending the remainder of the week planting crinums in our field.

Labels: bulb, bulb-hunting, crinum, oxblood, planting

The root was black, while the flower was as white as milk; the gods call it Moly, and mortal men cannot uproot it, but the gods can do whatever they like.

This quote from Homer’s Odyssey often comes to this mortal man’s mind; the bard’s reference to such a stubborn plant surely must have described a crinum.

Interestingly, my deep Southern roots recently led me on an Odyssey of my own; within the span of six-and-a-half days, I had traversed four states and geographies of pine trees, gulf coast, and the foothills of the Texas hill country. Toward the end of my trek, Columbus, Texas-based garden enthusiasts Bob and Mary Anne Pickens lent me a place on their porch to drink iced tea and catch up. Like gray-haired men trading big fish stories, we shared about our own encounters with Homer’s fabled plant.

The catalyst for my trip was the annual state conference for Louisiana Master Gardeners Conference in New Orleans, where I was privileged to speak. Since a good college friend lives just two hours up the Gulf in Mobile, Ala., I budgeted some time in advance of the conference to meet him for lunch. We decided on R&R Seafood, which promises to remind you of the “shrimp boils you used to have in your grandma’s backyard.” I was born in Lafayette, La., so I consider myself pretty discriminating when it comes to Gulf Coast fare, but my shrimp po’boy really did hit the spot. Any restaurant that must depend on stilts to protect it from the ocean’s tide provides a pretty good indication that the seafood will be fresh.

I ventured down to New Orleans for the conference and was impressed with the city’s progress and rejuvenation, though the road reconstruction is still very much ongoing. I stayed at the hotel where the Master Gardeners convention was taking place, and after speaking and encountering several fellow bulb buffs, I stumbled upon a procession of Master Gardeners embracing the Cajun spirit by doing a traditional Zydeco dance in one of the hotel ballrooms. What a sight!

By this time, I was ready for some real R&R, and I don’t mean the seafood this time. I continued on to South Central Texas to visit the longtime gardening friends I mentioned, Mary Anne and Bob (also known as Pick).

I’ll post the thrilling conclusion of my Crinum Odyssey later this week. In the meantime, a teaser:

What could broken shovels, two varieties of crinum, and oxbloods have in common?

Labels: bulb, crinum, Master Gardener, oxblood, speaking