Like I need another garden project.
I already tend three gardens, Smith, Jones, and the Lorelei, over the course of a season that lasts almost eleven months out of the year. I figure I grow 50 or so different types of plants. I still oversee my seed starting operation under lights in the living room. Even with all that, I’ve been eagerly anticipating this new project since last year. Six gardens with a hundred types of plants wouldn’t stop me. I’m propagating mums.
This endeavor grew out of a big disappointment last year, but ultimately is rooted in Fall, 2009. We had just moved to our new ground-floor apartment, complete with a little garden space not yet named the Lorelei. Early in October, a couple of weeks after moving in, boxes still in the hall, pictures and curtains not yet hung, I bought three chrysanthemum plants to set outside our door. The Alexandria Market is full of mums in the fall, bright orange and yellow, magenta and white mounds of prettiness. These first flowers helped make our new house a home.
Project Mum
Imagine my surprise the following spring to see the chrysanthemums start growing right away. Of course I was glad they had survived the winter and was looking forward to more blossoms in the fall, but growing at that rate I worried they would be ungainly, long-legged creatures, maybe not even able to hold their lovely fall heads high. I read up on the subject and learned one can (and should) cut mums back to keep them from getting too tall, and to encourage more flower-bearing branches. With many plants, if you clip or pinch them at the right time and place, you’ll get more flowers or fruit or foliage. It’s as if the plant says to itself, “Hmm! My main growing branch is all of a sudden gone. I better start three or four in its place to make sure I produce enough mums this fall. It seems you can clip mums as late as early July, and still get a nice crop of flowers in fall. So I cut them back. They looked great; neat and trim, ready for their first job interview.
A few weeks after their shave and a haircut (two bits), I read how easy it is to start new mums from cuttings. My heart sank! I had long since tossed the ends, plus I had pruned them short and the date was far-advanced. I would get no more clippings that year. I could have started a slew of new plants from something I got out of the garden itself, not from a store or seed packet, and missed the opportunity. I was surprisingly disappointed, hardly able to wait until next year. Somehow, I managed.
Water to moisten the stem so the rooting powder will stick
Finally, a few weeks ago, I started this experiment. I saved three trays with pots from a bunch of pansies I bought on sale last fall. I purchased rooting powder (not necessary according to propagation experts, but it helps), and potting soil, making this project not quite free but close enough. Getting the whole thing under way was easy. I snipped four to five inch branches off the mums and took off the leaves from the part that would be buried. Then, I dipped the end, first in water, then in rooting powder, and stuck it in the soil. I’m supposed to keep the potting mix wet in the pot, especially until roots form. Not sure when that will be since I can’t see beneath the surface of the soil.
As with all gardening, the hardest part of the project will be the waiting, something I’m not great at but am forced to do nonetheless. I’ve already waited a year to try this and in a way, sticking little branches in pots of soil is slightly anticlimactic. In spite of that, hope keeps me excited and engaged. So far, the cuttings seem to be alive. The first several days they wilted some, especially in the afternoon when the sun is highest (though I keep them in a bright but shady place). The picture at the beginning of this article is after two weeks. I’ll keep you posted on their progress.
