Saturday, February 28, 2015

After this miserable cold winter, I so enjoyed the Philadelphia Flower Show

After this miserable cold winter, I so enjoyed the Philadelphia Flower Show. I went to Friday afternoon’s Members’ Preview which was surprisingly uncrowded. (I have been to Members’ Previews that were more crowded than the regular Flower Show.)

My husband who has accompanied me to the Flower Show for many years, this year refused to go. He has always complained about the artificiality of the show—all those plants forced into bloom before their time, the exhibits with plants that never bloom at the same time in nature, now in bloom together at the Flower Show. For me, the artificiality is the point of it all and I love the idea that I can enjoy all these gorgeous flowers in the dead of winter.

I was a little worried when I heard that the theme this year was going to be “Celebrating the Movies," especially Disney movies, but to my relief the movie references were generally discreet and the focus was on the flowers.

There was a gorgeous display of scarlet tuberous begonias at the entrance to the show that made me rethink my decision to give up on tuberous begonias. I’ve never been able to keep them alive throughout the summer. But there’s nothing like a spectacular floral display to keep hope alive and I bought two tubers which just maybe will sprout pale salmon colored tuberous begonias.
tuberous begonias at entrance to the flower show

One of the great delights of the flower show is the shopping—-so many temptations for gardeners. When I passed a vendor selling spring bulbs, she reached out to me with an incredibly fragrant tuberose. I love the intoxicating fragrance of tuberose but have not had any success with them and had decided no more futile attempts to grow them. But this particular tuberose was so magical that I bought a large tuber and decided to give it one more try.

This is what I love about gardening, there’s always another season, another opportunity to try to get it right. It’s kind of like teaching—-always another semester, another shot—-until it’s over. Teaching is over for me, but I sure hope I have a few more gardening years left.

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