Flirting with Flowers.

Once upon a time, I fell in love. 

With flowers.

Loose, wild collections full of scent. Tight, subtle bouquets, perfectly positioned in a vase. Tiny posies, gathered and tied with a gauzy, polka dot ribbon. Tulips, long and gangly, growing and reaching for light in their vase. Handfuls of daffodils, plucked in January, to cheer a gloomy house. A single peach rose, perfect in its simplicity.

Flowers spoke to me. They said, “Don't wait for an occasion. Or a somebody. Treat yourself.”

So often, I'm consumed with edible gardening: plant the seeds for Garden Delights, weed the raised beds, switch out the cool weather crops for summer veggies, baby the transplants for the business, write about growing veggies to feed a family. Coerce the kids to eat the homegrown veggies.

And so often, I overlook what made me love gardening from the beginning:

Flowers.

I didn't grow up with a vegetable garden. My dad grew up on a farm—and when he became a successful businessman, he had no interest in returning to his roots. My mom grew up without much—and I'm sure her family probably grew most of their food out of necessity. I honestly don't know. She didn't like to talk about her childhood.

Instead, my mom loved flowers.

Tulips and daffodils.

Snapdragons and pansies.

Tea roses and lilacs.

My introduction to gardening began with beauty, not practicality. And I can assure you, with my chemist father, our garden was not organic.

Still, it was lovely. 

A little bouquet of homegrown flowers—lilacs, daffodils, tulips—always graced our kitchen table, nestled next to the permanently filled candy jar that varied with holidays. (My friends loved our bottomless candy jar.)

So, as I ordered seeds for the business, this year I ordered extra seeds—just for me.

This is the year of my cutting garden.

I harbor this secret fantasy of owning a flower farm. It's not going to happen in this lifetime. Instead, I stalk Floret Flowers and try to live vicariously through the amazingly talented Erin.

Her flowers and designs are to die for. Seriously. (I would never end a sentence with a preposition if I didn't mean it.) If you ever need an instant mood boost, just visit her site and gaze at her flowers. They're heavenly. (By the way, I don't know Erin at all. I just adore her work.)

So, while a flower farm is not in my future, I'm determined that I will have fresh bouquets all year from our garden.

We already grow flowers scattered throughout the gardens, but this year I want to be more systematic. Sometimes, I'll snip tulips from the front bed, but hate leaving empty gaps by the entranceway. So instead, I've decided to make a bed—or beds—designed just for cutting, planned with seasonal succession in mind. I've also decided to make the flowers serve double duty. By planting the flowers near the vegetable garden, we'll instantly attract pollinators.

It's my duty, right? Save the bees!

My biggest challenge is our shady yard. Oh, and voles. But I'll deal with that.

Anyway, as I'm beginning to plan the cutting garden, I thought I'd share some of the plants I plan to include, along with their projected bloom schedule. Seeds, shrubs, and bulbs all can provide beautiful cut flowers.

Along with my secret flower farm dream, I've amassed quite a collection of floral design books. I thought I'd share some of the experts' recommendations for flowers ideal for arrangements, as well as tips to increase their vase life. (I think I'll make a Pinterest Board for this so you can see the flower photos from my sources. It's a work in progress.)

Mostly, the cutting garden will comprise seeds and bulbs—a relatively small expensive for a high return. Many of the shrubs I've already incorporated into the landscape, but I'm listing them in case you want to add some flowering shrubs to your cutting garden, too.

Perfect Plants for a Cutting Garden:

Seeds

Bells of Ireland

Annual. Sow 2 to 4 weeks before average last frost. Requires light to germinate. Press lightly into soil surface and keep moist. If sowing during warm weather, refrigerate seeds one week before sowing. Bloom time: late summer. Use: Lovely green stalks with tiny white flowers are great accent stems or used as foliage. Vase life: 7 to 10 days. Dries well.

Cosmos

Annual. Sow 1-2 weeks after last frost. Full sun. Bloom time: summer. Uses: Perfect for casual summer bouquets. Vase life can be up to 10 days when cut fresh from the garden.

Delphinium

Perennial. Sow 1 to 2 weeks after average last frost. Requires darkness to germinate. Sow at recommended depth of 1/4”. Best germination at 70-80 degrees F. Blooms late spring/early summer. Full sun. Thrives in cool, moist climates. (Note: I've never had luck with delphinium—I think it's too hot in SC. But I'm going to try one more time because it's so beautiful.) Uses: Harvest when ¾ of blooms are open. Tall flowers add height to arrangements. Vase life: 5 to 7 days.

Forget-me-not

Perennial. (Also annual varieties.) Plant seeds 1 to 2 weeks before average last frost date or as soon as soil can be worked. Can sow in early fall for early spring blooms, which is helpful in warm climates. Grows best in partial shade with moist soil. Blooms spring and early summer. Use: Harvest when a few flowers are open. Flowers shouldn't shed when handled. Submerse cut flowers into deep, cool water to harden them prior to arranging. Base life: 5 to 7 days.

Foxglove

Biennial. (Foliage first year, blooms second year.) Sow seeds 1 to 2 weeks after average last frost up until two months before first fall frost. Requires light to germinate. Press seeds into moist soil, do not cover. Prefers shade/partial sun. All parts of the plant are poisonous. Blooms late spring/early summer. Uses: Harvest when bottom third of bell shaped flowers open. Vase life: 10+ days. Recut the thick stem to avoid blockage and increase vase life.

Poppy

Hardy in zones 1-6, grown as an annual in zones 7+. Sow seeds 4 to 6 weeks before average last frost or as soon as soil can be worked. In mild climates, fall sowing is recommended. Seeds require light to germinate. Poppies like cooler weather. Foliage dies back in summer heat, reappearing in fall. Bloom time: late spring. Uses: Cut in bud stage when the bud shows some color of the blossom. Vase life: 3 to 5 days. Sear the end of the poppy and place in warm water. Can also use the pods to add interest to arrangements.

Snapdragons

Annual. (Perennial usually grown as an annual. May overwinter in climates as cold as USDA zone 5.) In cold climates, sow seeds 4 to 6 weeks before average last frost or as soon as soil can be worked. Mild climates: sow seeds in late summer to early fall for winter and spring blooms. Uses: Harvest when a few buds are open along the base and others show good signs of color. Vase life: 10 days to two weeks.

Stock

Annual. Sow 2 to 4 weeks before average last frost. For blooms throughout the growing season, sow every 4 weeks. In mild winter climates, sow in fall for early spring blooms. Grow in full sun to light shade. Average bloom: early summer. Uses: Harvest when one-third to one-half of bottom blooms are open. Vase life: 3 to 5 days. Cut thick stems for better water penetration.

Sunflowers

Annual. One of the easiest, most rewarding flowers to grow in a cutting garden. Sow seeds 1/2” deep, 1 to 2 weeks after average last frost. I typically sow seeds every few weeks throughout early summer for a long harvest. Full sun. Bloom time: summer through fall. Uses: Harvest when three-fourths to fully open, center free from signs of pollination. Vase life: 5 days. If large leaves wilt, strip them to prolong vase life. Watch the water level—sunflowers are thirsty!

Sweet Pea

Annual. Delicate, fragrant beauties grow best when seeds are soaked in water for 24 hours or nicked with sandpaper prior to sowing. In mild climates, plant in late fall/early winter for spring blooms. In cold climate, sow seeds 4 to 6 weeks prior to last frost. Full sun, needs support. Plant and seeds are poisonous. Uses: Harvest when a few flowers open at the base of stem. Vase life: 3 to 5 days.

Zinnia

Annual. Sow seeds 1 to 2 weeks after average last frost. Full sun. Long lasting garden and cut flower. Thrives in hot weather. Uses: Harvest when flower is mostly open. Handle gently, as zinnias bruise easily. Vase life: 5 days.

Wow. If you're still here—congratulations! I've just realized that instead of a blog post, I'm writing an epic tome about cutting gardens. I'm sorry—I've obviously gotten carried away with my flower lust.

So, because I know you have other things to do today, I'll continue our chat about cutting gardens tomorrow, focusing on the bulbs and shrubs for floral arrangements.

Until then, inquiring minds want to know:

What is your favorite cut flower to give or receive? Do you love formal red roses, or are you more of a sunflower person? Tulips or peonies? Daisies or daffodils?

Honestly, this little arrangement, gathered at a soccer game last year by my sweet girl and delivered in an impromptu vase, will always make me smile.

Until tomorrow...

XO ~

Julie

P.S. Want to find more interesting growing ideas?

Counting the Days Until Spring (62!)--Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.

It's coming. 

Only 62 more days of dank, gray, depressing nastiness.

I know I shouldn't complain. After all, we sweated on Sunday, with the temperatures hitting mid-70s.
 
And I know you northern friends are rolling your eyes at me. I remember those lovely days of -50 degree wind chill and salt-stained boots. 

If we'd just have a little burst of sunshine, I wouldn't complain. I promise. 

The grayness and the rain are just making me feel...moldy. Lethargic. Sluggish.

Still, I know spring lurks just out of reach.

Look what I found!

The first snowdrop! Isn't it the most cheerful little bloom? I adore its lack of pretension. I especially love how easily you can miss the secret little green heart hidden within. Do you see it?

Closely followed by the first snowdrop, the hellebores began their lovely display. Thank goodness for hellebores. In the midst of the oppressive grayness of January, when everything is bare, dank, muddy, and stagnant, hellebores quietly unfurl, providing the pop of color and bit of hope winter gardeners crave. 

What a work horse. 

Particularly in our shady gardens, hellebores provide lovely color, as well as year round interest with their evergreen, serrated foliage in zone 7b. 

Plus, from the five original plants I purchased approximately 10 years ago, we now have more than 100 hellebores scattered throughout our shady yard. I'm often tempted by new, stunning hybrids when I browse through some of my favorite catalogs, but these originals always remind me that newer isn't always better. (Although, after reading my friend Helen Yoest's article in Country Gardens magazine about Pine Knot Farms hellebore nursery, I'm secretly drooling over the lush fields of flowers.)

I've also seen hellebores used in many of the trendiest floral studios, like Saipua. If you need a dose of sheer, awe-inspiring beauty, check out Saipua, as well as Floret Flowers. These women produce amazing work. 

I need a flower farm. Sigh.

As I tried to get a better angle for the hellebore photos, Oreo decided she needed some love. 

She really is part dog. Truly, how many cats come when called, stand on their hind legs to be petted, and follow you to the bus stop? (Just don't tell her I called her a dog.)

My love affair with fraise des bois continues. Mid-January, and look--blooms. We'd still be eating berries if we hadn't experienced two weeks of freezing evening temperatures earlier this month. Everyone needs fraise des bois in their gardens. Yes, you do--trust me.

The daffodils are ready to pop. Is there anything more cheerful than daffodils? My mom used to buy a 10-stem bunch of daffodils from the grocery store for $1.99, just to brighten the kitchen table. When I began working, I always kept a vase of daffodils on my desk during the sad Chicago winter. Daffodils make me happy.

 
New to the garden last fall, the witchhazel buds are about to burst. I'm excited to see how it performs, plus I can't wait for its fragrance to grace the garden.
 

One of my favorite fragrant bushes is winter daphne. We're often warned that daphne is temperamental when planted in garden beds, so I chose to plant ours in containers near the front entrance. I'm anxiously awaiting its sweet, welcoming greeting. It's so close, I thought for certain it would be blooming in time for GBBD.

Patience. Not my strong suit.

Kristen's cherry tree continues to bloom...and bloom...and bloom. A few flowers here, a few there. It's been non-stop since autumn, but just piddly little blooms. I envisioned a cherry tree overwrought with blossoms. Lesson learned. This photo is a good example of how dreary the days are--nothing but gray.

I'm excited about a few new blooms added to the garden. Somehow, I never planted hardy cyclamen in our shady garden. What was I thinking? I definitely needed to rectify that mistake.

 

Not only do the blooms add a nice pop of winter color, but the foliage is showstopping. 

The tea olives continue to do their duty, offering a bit of fragrance from their diminutive blooms.

While I scouted for blooms along the pool, Sugar came looking for a treat. Poor girls, their run is a muddy mess after today's rain.

Our edibles continue to produce well. I thought the mushroom logs would be dormant for a bit, but we're still harvesting mushrooms regularly. I need to bump up my mushroom recipe repeteriore.
 

Ah, camellias...they never disappoint. While they've already put on their big show, a few encores remain.

On New Year's Eve Day, our family visited a local nursery, where we all received coupons toward plants and merchandise. Mikey selected a camellia, which he insists must be planted right outside his window.

I'm negotiating. If I plant it right outside his bedroom window, it will be in the middle of boxwoods and azaleas. 

Not exactly ideal. 

Of course, our gloomy days always get a reprieve with pansies and violas. Their cheerful little faces brighten January days. I've loved pansies since I was a child, except that we planted them in the spring when we lived in Indiana.

 
Our typically cheerful blooms looked tired today, drooping under the weight of rain.

The violas, though, still provide a burst of perkiness.

As I've mentioned a time or two, I'm a hopeless failure with house plants. However, I'm determined to keep alive the two lovely orchids I received for Christmas from my family. 

I will. I will!

I do manage to keep forced bulbs healthy throughout the holidays, at least. 

Paperwhites are so simple to force, and the variety I purchased had a nice, subtle fragrance--not the typical sickeningly sweet scent.  

And finally, finally...my amaryllis bulbs began blooming--yesterday! Just in time to share for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.

So, only 62 more days until our gardens will be filled with blooms. Until then, I'll be heading over to May Dreams Gardens to see what my garden blogger friends found blooming in their gardens.

Do you have any blooms to share?

Happy Bloom Day!

XO ~

Julie