for mylittlebird.com
Washington
continues its march toward the most floriferous spring in memory, with
cherry trees, daffodils, and tulips beginning to bloom, and
mock orange, hydrangeas, and
roses leafing out months ahead of schedule.
Usually this unnatural combination of flowers is only
visible at the Philadelphia Flower
Show, where city-sized plots manicured by top designers brim
with fantasy: Full grown
trees, waterfalls, and ponds, and plants that never bloom
together are nurtured to peak in
time for a floral extravaganza.
Each year has a theme. This time it’s Amsterdam, and a “controlled chaos” of
flowers,
according to the press release. Wander under a bridge
inspired by the Dutch canals and
decorated with Delft
tile, brim-full flower boxes, and hanging baskets, and enter
the centerpiece of the show, a floral canopy of more than
6,000 cut and dried flowers
hovering above thousands of tulips, fritillaria, narcissus,
and anemones.
There will be many demonstrations and lectures
and special events, including competitions, wherein the truly anal demonstrate
their ability to spend the winter bringing their azaleas and whatnots into
premature flowering perfection; and displays of miniature gardens with gnomes
and itty bitty twig cottages that make my skin crawl, but that is neither here
nor there; new this year is a “spa experience,” for some reason.
In normal years, you leave the show panting for spring,
knowing it’s weeks away and
there’s nothing to look forward to but pale sun and chilly
drizzle. So you stick your nose
in a gardening book or two and day dream this years
impossibilities; oh my goodness
how this and that will look – dreams that ultimately lead to
what do I do about the damn
black spot. Again.
Ah, but this year, this year… there’s already a flower show
happening outside your door – a chaos that just needs to be controlled, and the
Philadelphia Flower Show is just the place to go for the brightest ideas
on how to do that.
If you haven’t been before, play hooky from work and visit
on a weekday; it’s marginally less crowded, though there are more strollers to
trip over. The show runs from
March 11 through the 19th, with adult tickets priced at $28
if purchased online, $35 at the
box office, and additional discounts for children and
students
Philadelphia
has this event down to a science. There are plenty of lots for parking, or
take the train, which I did one year. You get off and clear
signs (!) lead you to the subway, which scoots you directly to the Convention
Center.
Take a break for a cheese steak at the classic food market
next door and return to the
shopping area for garden ornaments and tools, books, bulbs,
plants, and cut stems.
Curly willow is a particular favorite of mine, with twisted
stems four feet tall in red or
green. The branches are occasionally available locally, for
about twice the price, so
they’re worth schlepping.
Stick them dry in a vase and they’ll stay until you start
sneezing from the dust, which
could take years depending on your housekeeping. Better
still, trim a bit off the stem
ends and stick them in water and within a couple of weeks
they’ll leaf out most
beautifully, a stunning tabletop display.
They let down a mass of roots and theoretically you can
plant them. I have had absolutely
no success with this, though I’ve seen them growing outside
a florist in Old Town so I
know it can be done. I suspect it may be a Gay Thing, as
some things just are. You know?
There is a also variety of philodendron that I’ve only seen
at the show that is sold in a
bunch of foot long branches or stems. If you can snag a few
of these, stick them in water
and they’ll grow for years, eventually poking at the
ceiling, with absolutely no care
whatsoever. They make an outstanding display in spots where
you want a fuss free and
really dramatic accent.
One thing to avoid is the plumeria, and it will be tough to
do. The flowers are like small
orchids and the smell is so heady and tropical that you can
pass out at a whiff. There are
always sweet little Hawaiian women, so trustworthy,
grandmotherly looking, peddling
these sticks, shyly smiling and swearing that there’s
nothing to growing them. Just stick it in soil and you’ll be rewarded with a
paradise of sight and scent. They lie.
While you will faithfully water and croon over that stick,
months will pass before it sends
forth a single green leaf, which will slowly blacken and the
whole thing will rot and be
tossed in the trash.
Consider yourself warned. Now go!
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