Linking About: Other people’s dahlias

First, a note: It’s been said by countless people in artful ways that gardening is the ultimate act of optimism — of belief and investment in the future. One can only garden for next month or next year or even the next decade. I’ve planted multiple gardens before without being around to see them manifest (I can only hope they were allowed to) and I plant this one in the hope that I will be this time. But in my lifetime, I’ve never been so uncertain about what kind of future there might be, either for me or the plants, and I confess I find it difficult each and every time to sit down and write to you about my garden while the world is on fire. The thing is, we all need a spot of joy, a moment of peacefulness among the chaos, a place to recharge so we can keep going. For me, that is my garden. And if coming here and thinking about plants with me for a few minutes is any kind of momentary respite at all, then it’s worth it to me to provide that. I truly appreciate your being here.

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So: I’ve been savoring everyone’s beautiful dahlia posts on Instagram and elsewhere lately, as I have no dahlias of my own to enjoy. (Shrug emoji) As noted, this was my first year trying to grow them and it was a fail. The piece of paper tucked into the brown bag along with the tubers I bought from a local farmer in the spring made it sound so simple: around the average last frost date, lay them on their sides into a 6" deep hole with the sprout pointing up (“if it is visible; if not, don’t worry, it will find its way!”) (note: mine did not have sprouts, just eyes), cover, and don’t water until greenness emerges. Simple, right?

My flower-gardening friends certainly make it look simple, with their abundant supply of dahlias of all shapes and sizes each year in late summer/early fall. Nevertheless, I assumed it would prove to be not that simple, but one thing you’ll find about me and gardening is I really do believe in trial and error. I thought ‘well, I’ll do what as the instructions say and maybe it’ll work, and if not then I’ll figure out what to try next year.’ But did I imagine myself anyway with armloads of dahlias to bring into the house and write poems about? Yes, yes I did.

So I’m doing diligent, virtual enjoyment and research at the moment, and looking forward to another shot at it next year. Please enjoy these links — from a beautifully shot story about a prize-winning dahlia gardener in the UK to an incredible dahlia varietal resource, to some (hopefully) solid advice for better results ...

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• I’m mostly into this for the old-worldly house and garden pics, but this does seem sadly/charmingly arcane: ‘And for all the failures McCormick has admittedly experienced in his gardening ... he’s been even more encouraged by the generous guidance of other gardeners. As he puts it, “Talking to people is really good. That’s what I love about being involved in shows — you meet all these people who are so passionate about showing or growing and willing to pass on their knowledge because it’s almost a dying art, the world of showing. They just want to encourage you.”’
—Charlie McCormick: Where the Wild Things Are, Upstate Diary

• It’s become clear my first mistake with the dahlias was not starting them inside (in my defense, it was too late when I got the tubers, even if I’d known that was a thing) so I found this photo-heavy tutorial about how to start dahlias indoors correctly for next time.

• I bought my tubers, as noted, from a farmers’ booth at a maker fair (there’s no name on the aforementioned sheet of paper so I don’t know who they were!) and many of the tubs of tubers didn’t even have pics — just descriptions. This was remarkably non-perfectionist behavior for me, buying tubers based on descriptions and hoping I would like what sprouted from them. I didn’t even make notes for myself about which ones I dropped into which holes (the tubers are numbered and I’d have pics to go with them once they grew, right?) so all I have is the list I made on a post-it note of what their names and numbers were. As I do not now have any blooms to take pics of, I looked them up: Fleurel, Rip City (or will they be more like this one?) Steve Meggos and Otto’s Thrill.

• For the record, all of them did sprout eventually, with one giving up the ghost and recovering, and its friend (I believe these two must be the Rip City duo) then crapping out. But they’re all paltry, undersized plants and only one (Steve, I’m guessing) is attempting to make a blossom here in mid-Sept. Cross your fingers for me — maybe I’ll at least get to meet Steve this year. [UPDATE: Steve bloomed!]

• In addition to not having started them inside, it’s been a weird weather year. We had a pretty wet June and almost no rain at all from July up to the present. I’ve been hand-watering everything once a week and I suspect the dahlias needed more than that? Everything I find just says they like “consistent water” but no specifics about consistently how much. Thoughts and advice welcome.

• I also did not pinch them. I find it really difficult to pinch off a flower head when there’s reason to believe it might be the only one I’ll get! I found this explanation of how to correctly pinch a dahlia plant and now I think maybe it’s not too late for me? Might be worth a try at this point?

• Googling my varietals led me to Floret farm’s Flower Library and wow what a resource. Here’s the dahlia wing of the library if you just want to gaze at a whole bunch of beautiful photos of beautiful flowers. And there’s also a blog post listing Recommended Dahlia Sources.

• My friend Jill pointed out to me that a lot of people around here had an off year with their dahlias, including people who actually knew what they were doing! Even my friend Jen, who let me use her photo up top, had to pull a lot of her dahlias due to mosaic virus. So I looked that up for future reference as well.

• And so you know, after all this, my plan for attempt number two is to dig up these tubers after the first frost, put them in nursery pots in dry potting soil, and put them in the basement until spring. I was trying to figure out why the extra step of storing them in paper or peat moss and then transferring them to dry soil in pots in late winter, and Jill said she had consistent luck with dry pots in the basement then tried wrapping them in paper this year and it was a fail.

So that’s my plan. Will report back next year!