A Flower for Funerals?

How do you feel about gladiolas?  Just about everyone I ask this question of gives me a very negative reply.  Yuck!  Funeral Flowers!  One gal actually gave me this quote –

She saw my gladiola bed

and as she looked at them she said,

“They make me think of being dead.”

Yes, there’s no doubt that these bright  spikes of color  are the standard decoration at funerals. I remember when Hank’s father died, we found a list of his preferences – along with a requests to be cremated,  favorite hymns to be included at his memorial service, and contributions to Ducks Unlimited in lieu of flowers. This was followed in red block letters  NO GLADIOLAS!

 I might never have grown these showy blooms  myself, but for the fact that the first year I ordered my seeds for the vegetable garden from Jung’s, a nursery in Wisconsin that a friend had recommended, they included a bonus of a dozen gladiola bulbs.

I knew nothing about these funny looking corms when they arrived,  and hadn’t been to enough funerals to  think of them as death decorations.  But I didn't even know what colors these knobby bulbs would produce, and I wasn't too enthused with the idea of having to dig them up each fall and store them in a cool dry place every winter  Being a terrible penny pincher, however, I wasn't about to throw them away. As Hank would say "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."

My perennial border was so new it could hardly be  considered a border.   It contained only a dozen plants, all given to me by friends. What harm to add a dozen gladiolas?  That summer as each one bloomed I tied a piece of colored yarn around its stem.  Being a knitter, I had all the right colors  - yellow, pink, white.  The blooms were very attractive as a background for perennials, and when fall came I dug them up,  attached  the right color yarn  to each corm and put them down in the cold cellar. 

I planted the corms each spring, and separated them each fall, putting the pink, blue and purple ones in a box for the border, and the white, yellow and one a gentle orange that would compliment Over the next few years,  I separated the corms each fall, putting the pink, blue  and purple in a box to be replanted in the border, while the white,  yellow and a soft pumpkin colored one that would look well in an arrangement in the living room, I would replant in my cuting garden. 

Isn't that a beauty? Now don’t put your nose up at the idea of an arrangement using gladiolas.  All alone I admit they aren’t my style any more than the name “glads” – an abbreviated word as tacky as “drapes.”  Mixed with other flowers such as zinnias, snapdragons and a bit of baby’s breath, they can fill out and compliment any bouquet. 

Sad to say, back then I didn’t take photos for my columns so you’ll have to imagine those bouquets compared to the one below that might decorate the grave site of my very tacky and least favorite teacher.   

If you grow gladiolas you already know how to treat them, but for the benefit of those who have scorned them and are now looking with a less jaundiced eye, here’s the scoop.  The bulbs should be lifted with a fork before the first hard frost and set out to dry, not in the sun, for several weeks. Then the old corm, shrunken from giving birth to the fat spear of summer flowers, is broken off and discarded.

The new corm which has formed above the old is already carrying next year’s bloom.  It needs a cool dry place for the winter.  It will be ready to plant in May.  To have a longer flowering period they can be planted at two-week intervals up until July.

Think about trying a few of these showy bulbs next year.  There are miniature varieties if you feel the large ones are too ostentatious.  And think about writing your funeral preferences.  After Hank and I read his father’s requests, we spent a hilarious night writing out ours.   Maybe your spouse would hire the Tanglewood chorus to perform Brahms Requiem?  Or plant some forget-me-nots beside your gravestone?

All about Halloween

 I  haven't raised pumpkins since 1995, the last year there were grandchiuldren living nearby who wanted to carve fancy Jack o' Lanterns.  That row of pumpkins above provided Reed and Ely with so many choices they didn’t even argue about who got which. 

Back in the Middle Ages the date Oct 31^st was not Halloween, it was referred to as New Year’s Eve. The druids (I had to look that up to discover druids were priests) celebrated the date by throwing a few black cats onto their bonfire to placate the witches in the area. Eventually New Year’s Eve was changed to All Hallow’s Eve, and the towns folk got into the act, dressing up as saints and devils, and dancing in the street.

In America  October 31st was called “Mischief Night” when ghosts roamed the countryside curdling milk and tipping over outhouses.  By the time I was a kid  the date had become Halloween.  It involved candy apples, popcorn and “witches’ teeth,”  and if folks weren’t sensible enough to stay home to hand out such treats, they’d be greeted with soaped windows, and strewn toilet paper on their return.

By the time my kids were old enough to  trick or treat,  it was Mars Bars and Milky Ways or  windows sprayed with shaving cream and more strewn toilet paper.  The costumes I made my three girls were considered old-fashioned by their friends who paraded around in store-bought Richard Nixon masks and authentic looking space suits and goblin garb. Fortunately  candy stuffed with razor blades and drugs were still a few years away.

Tricks and treats and costumes may change with the generations over the years, but one part of Halloween has been around for centuries, the jack-o-lantern.  In Ireland where these carvings originated, they were made from large turnips or rutabagas, but in this country they have always been carved on fat orange pumpkins.

 Having priced a few pumpkin at various farm stands this week,  I suspect quite a few gardeners who have children will grow some themselves next summer, so here are a few suggestions.  Pumpkin vines  take up a lot of room so I plant mine out by the manure pile instead of in the vegetable  garden.  Pumpkins do not like to be transplanted, so they should be started where they will grow.  To get a head start, plant the seeds in a sod.  Dig up a shovelful of grass from a field, turn it upside down and plant some seeds in it  indoor in March.

Since I now have a great grandson who visits Locust Hill each August, I may grow a few pumpkins next summer myself, and  personalize them for Twain. When a pumpkin is still young, you can take a carrot peeler and gouge out a child’s name or initials with the tip.  As the pumpkin grows these cuts heal over and the name will be branded in the pumpkin’s flesh.

Have a happy Holloween, and remember, if you bring jack o’ lanterns in the house, the warm temperatures will make them rot in a hurry.  Left outside they’ll last much longer.