Amaryllis Again

A Christmas gift from the past is putting on a show!

 

Amazing Amaryllis Inspires Josie

This beauty was a gift from Josie's other grandparents, and it has outdone itself in blooms. Multiple stems from each bulb and sometimes five flowers on each stem. And the deep dark red!

Yesterday, of her own volition (which is pretty much the way she does everything), Josie painted its picture.

I was impressed. It took me years (fifty or so) before I attempted painting from life. And I'm still more comfortable with a photo or picture to follow.

 

Deep Dark Amaryllis

 

Re-Bloomer

 

Another Re-Bloomer and Banana Water

Another amaryllis from a Christmas past! This is a lovely deep rose.

I don't know for sure but this unexpected bloom may be due to banana water. I've been putting banana peels in a gallon jug of water then. after they're rotting and the water is quite disgusting, I pour the potassium-rich liquid onto various pot plants. The amaryllis were some of the first recipients of this homemade fertilizer.

I needed to experiment further . . .

 

My Window Garden

Breakfast: six-grain toast with mango/jalapeno hummus and a white nectarine.

And what is probably the last bloom of the amaryllis Claui's folks gave us which has been blooming since Christmas.

 

Still Blooming

 

In Praise of Beauty

 

Anticipation

We always look forward to the gift of amarylli from Claui's folks. They bring them at Thanksgiving so we can enjoy watching the fat brown bulbs send up multiple shoots.

Nancy finds the most amazing containers.

And this one is guarded by a little Border Collie--just like our Bailey.

Now we wait for the buds to swell and open!

 

Not Dead Yet

Every Christmas, Claui's folks give us amaryllis bulbs, planted in beautiful tureens or other containers. They bloom and bloom on our dining table and when they are finished, I move them to the greenhouse, in hopes of a repeat performance. Which hasn't happened until now--this beauty from several years back is putting on a show. And there's a bud on another one in the greenhouse! Where there's life, as they say, there's hope!

Which brings me to the subject of my recent doctor visit--I have to go once a year and have blood drawn so they can make sure my thyroid medicine is working properly. So off I went and when, after a bit of a wait, the young man in skinny jeans who is my provider popped into the room and said, "Well, I didn't think I'd ever see you again," I was a little puzzled.

Did he think that at my advanced age, I wasn't likely to return? (I was already a little rattled by some of the questions the intake person had asked before taking my blood pressure. Did I experience feelings of hopelessness? Did I ever feel like life wasn't worth living? Or words to that effect.)

When I asked just what he meant about not seeing me again, he grinned and held out a copy of Crows. He'd purchased after my last visit a year ago and wanted me to sign it. 

Well, okay then. See you next year. I hope.

 

Table Garden

                                                                                   

                                                                                  

                                                                              

Amazing Amaryllis Just Keeps Going

                                                                                   

Back at Thanksgiving, Claui's folks gave us our Christmas present--a beautiful tureen planted with two huge bulbs. One bulb has bloomed magnificently, producing four flowers . . .while the other has taken its sweet time.

                                                        

But finally, the last bloom began to fade-beautiful to the end.

When the blossom had turned to a dark, limp rag, I cut off the stalk and was surprised to find a second bud, beginning to show. Meanwhile, the other bulb, the slowpoke, was rearing up and it, too, seemed to have a hint of another bud to come.

At this rate, the show could go on for some while! Thanks, Bill and Nancy!

                                                                                        

Sparkling

                                                                         

At dinner a few nights ago, the question arose: Where does the name amaryllis come from? After several wild guesses, I went to Mr. Google.

Amaryllis is from the Greek and means sparkling. There was a nymph of that name who fell in love with a handsome shepherd (as so often happened.) But, alas, he only loved flowers... (insert obligatory sheep joke.)

So, after consulting with the oracle at Delphi, Amaryllis visited the shepherd's cottage daily, and on each visit, pierced her heart with an arrow so that drops of her blood fell to the ground. 

On the 30th day, sparkling red flowers bloomed where the blood had fallen. The flower-loving shepherd was impressed and fell in love with Amaryllis.

A perfect Valentine's Day flower? What with the heart pierced by an arrow...

However--the red flowers referenced in the Greek legend are not the same as these familiar beauties. These popular flowers are of South African origin and were given the name in 1768 by a Dutch botanist. The Dutch have long been mad for bulbs and most amaryllis bulbs come from Holland now.

At Last!

                                                                                

This beauty, a gift from Claui's folks, has been on our dining table since Thanksgiving. This bulb has made two stems and is finally flowering! 

                                                     

    The other bulb in the planter is just now venturing a cautious green tongue out of the brown bulb. Odd that the two are on such different schedules. But, all the longer to enjoy them!

                                                     

Learning Curve

Our amaryllis gave us weeks of enjoyment and I took lots of pictures. Now, while we wait for what looks like a second flower stalk on its way, I'm trying to use some of those pictures to help me learn how to deal with that tricky mottled shading. (A previous attempt, working from the actual blooming plant, showed me I had a long way to go.

I also resurrected a picture taken many years ago at the Grant Distillery garden in Scotland--a Himalayan blue poppy--the most amazing shade of blue and one I tried to replicate without success. I'll try again, but first I'll do some color samples till I find what works to show the wonderful transparent glow.

It's almost a form of meditation. I get so deep into the picture, paying such close attention to every curve and line, that sometimes I forget to breathe.  And the imperfection of the work is beside the point. It's the doing that matters--process, not product.