Ah, that first rain smells so good! Time to do some transplanting

My husband and I were mowing yards yesterday when we felt those first raindrops. What a long, dry Summer it was this year.

I’ve been dying to do some transplanting.  A few years ago I took some time to separate bulbs and rhizomes and move them around my yard. This year it paid off, with purple irises all over in Spring and intense pink amaryllis in late summer. I don’t remember when I’ve seen so many Amaryllis flowers, not only in my front yard but in yards all over my Chico neighborhood.

Last spring I was gifted some really special irises by one of my tenants. Not only are they some beautiful showy varieties, but he got them from a relative who just happens to be a member of one of my favorite old rock and roll bands. It came up in conversation when his parents visited. His father mentioned that they were having dinner with a cousin who lived near Chico. He said something like, “oh you wouldn’t know him, but years ago he and his friends wrote a little song called ‘Pipeline.'” He sincerely thought I wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

I almost choked. “You mean your cousin is a member of the Chantays?”

He seemed genuinely surprised that I would remember the Chantays. Not only do I remember the Chantays, I remember sitting in front of my grandma’s television screaming my head off when I watched them on Ed Sullivan in about 1963. That video is available on YouTube, and when I had better Computer Service I watched it almost everyday when I got up in the morning.

I got positively giddy babbling at my tenant’s parents, I was embarrassed of myself when my husband finally dragged me away. But, I apparently made an impression, because the next time I saw my tenant he had half dozen potted irises that his father’s cousin had sent to me. My tenant showed me pictures he had taken on his phone of his relative’s incredible iris patch.

I sincerely felt unworthy. Growing up with my grandmother and her friends, I met Iris afficionados never gave away their rhizomes, they acted as though they were family heirlooms, made of gold.

So I fussed and flustered over those pots all Summer, moving them to different spots around my yard, trying to find exactly the perfect location. Irises like a mixture of sun and shade, my best blossoms come up around Big Trees.

I finally found some really nice dirt under a big oak tree that I have been mulching for a long time. I’m nervous about putting them in the ground, even though they’re covered with new growth. I guess I’m waiting for more rain.

I’m feeling the same anxiety about transplanting my horde of aloe vera plants, which are over growing their little pots and need to be separated.

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These plants multiply fast under the right conditions. I feel like the Old Woman Who Lived in a Little Tiny Greenhouse.

They also need to be somewhat protected in winter, and I have so many there’s barely any room in my little Greenhouse. I don’t have room for them in my apartment either, and I’m afraid they would stain my fake wood floor.

So I’ve posted about a dozen plants on Craigslist for sale. I don’t know that many people who want to fuss over potted plants, and most of my friends who appreciate aloe vera already have their own plants. And maybe I’ll get a few bucks for Christmas shopping.

I’ll have to put some in one of those Iris pots I got from my tenant’s rock and roll relative. They really look showy in the right pot.

But I’ll keep most of my horde. I not only use copious amounts on my skin, I drink about 3 oz of sap a day in my fruit smoothie. I know it’s great for my skin, my hands get so chapped and cracked in this dry weather. Aloe sap works like a miracle cure, within 24 hours I’ve seen bad cracks heal up on my knuckles. And I believe it’s a great tonic for my stomach and digestive tract. I get up every morning with a hungry stomach ache, and a quick smoothie always makes me feel better.

This change in the weather sure has me feeling better. I was afraid my entire yard would dry up and die before the rain came. Rain has brought back my optimism.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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