Even the word “forced” is unkind, unthoughtful: “forcing” a plant to bloom out of its natural cycle, out of its natural habitat, to bring me fleeting pleasure.
Depending on the variety that you chose to force also will determine whether you let them dry and replant them in the spring or toss them on the compost. Once a bulb has been forced the chance of it reblooming when planted outside is slim.
So here I am, in spite of myself, with the notion to have a pot of blooming lily-of-the-valley. These little lovelies thrive here in the Far North. They can actually make a dense ground cover if left to their own devices. Mine are happily running under the thicket of Heidi roses on the north side of the house
This area is almost always damp, and only gets afternoon sun. Every spring I spread a few wheelbarrows of manure under the roses and that seems to help the lily-of-the-valley also. Make sure where you plant them is where you want them to stay. They truly do spread, creating a rather thick mat. The ones on the edges get the most picking, making fragrant bouquets throughout the house.
Once the blooms are spent, a very lovely, vivid red berry forms and hangs on for weeks. These can cause a mildly upset stomach if ingested; consider yourself warned.
Lily-of-the-valley (convallaria majalis) is a rhizome, or commonly refered to as a “pip.” And I now realize that I am way too late to prepare a pot of these for the house any time soon. I can’t find a source that will ship me some pips, they balk at mailing to Alaska in the winter. Gee, I wonder why? Nor do the greenhouses have any on hand; they, too, are using common sense and waiting until spring for a shipment to arrive. You will see these plants in handy little boxes with their picture on the front proclaiming their loveliness. Who can resist?
But there is another way to procure them: from a gardener who has too many. I was offered some very special lily-of-the-valley from a friend whose source was her late grandmother. I had to refuse as my bed is full to overflowing. They are easy to propagate: pull up some of the plants. They are all connected together and you just follow the root from pip to pip until you have a nice mass of them. Replant them in a bunch, don’t stretch them out and they will spread out on their own volition.
The most sensible source of information on the issue of forcing these plants suggests that we pot up some in the fall and force gently or allow them to grow at their own pace. I will (immediately) make a note of this on the October calendar.
I have given you two options for lily-of-the-valley: planting pips outside in the spring and forcing a pot for inside enjoyment. Because it is February I am presently prone to the forcing issue. Be sure to make lily-of-the-valley part of your garden this coming season.
After complaining bitterly about my amaryllis’ lack of bloom, what happens? You guessed it: two blooms. Lovely, pale pink. In general, the plants still lack vigor. I have no idea how they managed to send out the blooms, but I think it took all they had.
As luck would have it, Fine Gardening, my favorite gardening journal, had an excellent article on amaryllis. So if you are one of the many who bought a fine fat amaryllis bulb this holiday season and are now faced with floppy leaves and no more blooms, there is hope.
Here is a checklist of suggestions gleaned from the article to encourage your bulb to rebloom next holiday season. In late June: stop watering. The bulb needs to go completely dormant by the end of the summer. Early August: once all the foliage has dried, cut it off and store the potted bulb in a dry place. Early October: repot with fresh soil and water. Late October: when the flower stalk shows, give it as much light as you can find and increase the amount of water. Don’t drown any bulb. This encourages rot, and then you are really out of luck.
Contrary to what I have forever believed about amaryllis, they do not need a period of dark. Apparently a period of dry is the key here, something that I have missed always and forever with these plants. The fact that I have any at all is rather amazing. They seem to survive on my very haphazard method. Sometimes they bloom, most of the time they are just a pot of lanky leaves. If I can get them to rebloom for the holidays I will be very impressed with myself. I suggest that you give it a go, rather than tossing yours into the compost, or worse, the trash, where they certainly do not belong.
It’s February, gardeners. Keep in mind that the plants really need all of this snow and cold. This is a good solid winter we are having and everything will be the better for it, including you.
Rosemary Fitzpatrick has been gardening with gusto in Homer for 28 years.
I can’t help but ask myself why I do this every year. Forcing a bulb is somewhat like keeping a bird in a cage: It’s fascinating, for a while.






