Lupines at Last!

I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve tried growing lupines over the years.  I didn’t have any success at the St Paul House and I haven’t had any luck so far at Auntie K’s Garden.  (I posted back in 2010 about my abysmal luck with lupines!)  

http://auntieksgarden.blogspot.com/2010/06/your-lupines-or-your-life.html

I’ve tried plants from nurseries.  I’ve tried plants from friends. I’ve tried seeds.  Nothing has worked—until now!  So, I was thrilled when I saw that the lupine from my friend Gail had taken.  I marked it last fall expecting a bare spot this spring.  Imagine my delight when I found not a bare spot, but an actual lupine!  







And, two days later when I was weed whacking, I noticed a second lupine tucked in with the catmint!

If all goes well, and these two lupines bloom, I’ll drop the seeds I have on the hill when their seed pods form and start to shake loose.  I’m crossing my fingers!

What’s the flower/plant you’ve been unlucky with?  Have you eventually found success? Or did you give up after a while?  

Post a comment and let me know.

Sorting Seeds

Right before Labor Day, I took a couple days of vacation to build a compost bin and install the stone steps in the west hill. I didn’t accomplish either of those projects. The weather didn’t cooperate fully. And, truthfully, although my heart was in it, my body just wasn’t up to it. So, I puttered. I planted here; I weeded there. I moved things around and mulched.

And, a funny thing happened when I was puttering here and there--I noticed the seed pods and seed heads. When I was mulching the lupine hill, I noticed the coreopsis had set seeds. When I was weeding the rose corner, I notice the stellas had seed pods. And, when I was watering the herbs, I noticed that the cilantro had turned to coriander.

So, I got out my seed sorting equipment and spent the afternoon sifting and sorting seeds. I like my plastic Tupperware colander for the first round of coriander and lupine seeds. The chaff and stems stick to the plastic rim and I can clear it off with my finger. After most of the chaff and stems are gone, I can pour them into the smaller strainer. Then, they can go into the baggies. The coreopsis was harder to sift and sort. And, if you’ve ever seen a coreopsis seed, you don’t have to wonder why one of the common names is tick-seed.

Stellas don’t really need any sifting, you just pour them out of the seed pods into your hand (or the baggie)—unless, an earwig comes out of the seed pod with the seeds, in which case, the seeds get scattered from here to kingdom come while you’re doing the ookie bug dance on the sidewalk. Thankfully, they’re big, shiny diamond shaped seeds that are pretty easy to see. So, I was able to recover some of them.

Seeds made an appearance at our neighborhood plant swap today, too. More on that tomorrow. Carol brought Baptisia seeds. Mary Kaye brought 4 o’clock seeds, and Theresa brought perennial hibiscus seeds. The hibiscus pods are so interesting, I asked her to hold them in her hand for a snapshot before giving them away!

I guess the point of my meandering, puttering tale is that if I had stuck to the plan and built the compost bin and installed the stone steps, I most likely would have missed the opportunity to collect and save the seeds from some of my favorite plants!

Your Lupines or Your Life!

Monty Python’s character, Dennis Moore, robs the rich of their lupines. There’s a “Lupine Express” stagecoach and in part two of the skit he flies into a ballroom and yells, “Your lupines or your life,” and the ball goers pull lupines from their undergarments to hand over to the hapless Moore. They are very funny skits.

I think I was introduced to lupines on the north shore of Lake Superior in the early 1990s. They were blooming in ditches all along Highway 61 and the blue waves were mesmerizing. I had to stop numerous times to soak in their beauty. Miss Rumphius, a children’s picture book by Barbara Cooney, is about “the lupine lady,” who beautifies the world by sowing lupine seeds wherever she goes. The illustrations are beautiful and remind me of the lupine laden ditches on Lake Superior. And, when I was in Norway last August, lupines lined the road on our section of the island. Some of them were as tall as I am!

I have never been successful at growing lupines in any of my gardens. I have tried seed and seedlings on south facing slopes (rumored to be the favorite spot of lupines). I was thrilled earlier this spring to see the finger-like foliage sprouting out of the ground, only to be devastated the next day when the rabbits had eaten the tender shoots right down to the ground. I mentioned this to my friend, Gail, who has a bumper crop of lupines in her garden, and she gave me a shopping bag filled seed pods. I removed the last seed from the last pod last night and now have a cup and a half of lupine seeds, which I intend to sow, Miss Rumphius style, on the south facing slope. I’ll have to wait until next year to see if they take, but I’m a patient gardener. And, with any luck at all, my little corner of the world will be more beautiful because of the lupines.