Backyard Blessings
With a little luck of the Irish, we plant the seeds of gardening love in our grandchildren.
My wife, Carole, and I love to grow dahlias. Our acreage has many places for us to showcase these carefree, adaptable flowers. Dahlias flourish in beds, borders and containers. Varying in height and width, they bloom with vibrant hues nonstop from July to frost. Honeybees and butterflies visit them often. In October, after a cool, sunny stretch of weather, we collect seeds from our favorite plants. “Jennie will love this color,” Carole says, as she plucks a dried seed head from a wine-colored Figaro dahlia for our daughter. Jennie’s kids, Miles and Lara, are at the age when they’re fascinated by watching new life take root. Our son Jimmy’s kids, Nathan and Noelle, are a little younger, but just as eager to sow special seeds from Grandma and Grandpa’s gardens. After plucking one of the dried seedpods, I gently rub it between my fingers, releasing the seeds into a labeled envelope. We also tag special or sentimental plants whose tubers we’ll be lifting after a killing frost. One gold-and-red beauty whose petals resemble a tropical sunset was given to Carole by a dear friend who passed away. It’s always on her must-save list. New Jersey winters are cold, snowy and long. But by midMarch, small birds warble at dawn, heralding longer and warmer days ahead. Our thoughts turn back to planting flowers and sharing the seeds we collected in fall. “The grandkids are just going to love these,” Carole predicts, as she looks at the smiling leprechauns, Kelly green shamrocks and verses about the luck of the Irish on the cards I’d picked. In each one she inserts a little glassine envelope containing dahlia seeds chosen especially for that family member. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day, happy spring, and happy planting,” she writes. “Love, Grandma and Grandpa Flynn.” Timed just right, and with a bit of luck, our mailed cards should arrive on March 17.