The Conservational Gardener

By Nanny Fontanella

The great daffodil divide, or coping with separation anxiety

My husband Bob loves sound; if the CD player isn’t going, then the radio is tuned to a local station. We were in the car the other day when it was pouring (what else is new?), listening for the weather forecast, trying to determine if we can plant my poor little drowning seedlings (whatever the slugs haven’t eaten) before it is time to clean up the garden for fall.

After the news, national weather and sports, the local weather announcer said, “There’s a 30 percent chance of rain.” I put my mouth close to the speaker and distinctly said, “Look outside!” but he probably didn’t hear me.

After two or three years of dry weather, the rain was welcome, but we’ve had enough. It seems like everything is out of sync, first drought, then flood—very Biblical.

I am pleased and proud to present my first question from a reader. Earl writes; ”My mom gave me daffodil or jonquil bulbs years ago; they were from her garden. Some of them bloomed for a few years, but then they stopped and only shot up green leaves each year. They’ve been planted at least 10 years. They’re in full sun. We dug them up and the largest ones are about an inch in diameter. Now, I don’t know if they can be salvaged. Would appreciate your advice.”

Daffodils develop as bulbets around the mother bulb and remain attached (oh that’s sad). These youthful bulbs need to be separated and replanted every three or four years or the whole kit and kaboodle stops blooming. After 15 years, I’ve got enough bulbs to start a nursery and beg neighbors to take them away, but that’s another story.

The great Daffodil Divide occurs in fall, but by September the leaves have disappeared, which presents a logistic problem in that it’s anybody’s guess where the bulbs are. Gardening guru Leslie Land says wait until the leaves turn yellow before dividing. I always plan to separate the daffodils before the leaves disappear, but as we all know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and the definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again while expecting different results. What’s a mother to do?

	Contributed graphic Daffodils are indestrctible.

I have a confession. I divide daffodils whenever I get the chance; they’re indestructible. Once, a pail full of daffodils was dug for the purpose of dividing them but were forgotten and left outside relatively unprotected all winter. When I found them in April, the darlings had put out greet shoots, so I planted them and they flowered the same year.

I am not recommending this practice, but Nanny is always one to rationalize sloth.

The leaves of spring bulbs swell and flop as they deteriorate, burying up-and-coming summer plants. Who wants all that rotting green stuff cluttering up the border? The leaves remain so bulbs gain “the get up and go” to bloom next year. Some gardeners braid the leaves, but while it may satisfy empty nest yearnings, it is not an attractive look.

I have a new plan in the works for late blooming bulbs like anemone, Dutch iris, eremurus, allium, calochortus, gladiola, leucojum, liIes, ornithogalum and oxalis. Strong, pushy perennials and annuals are planted cheek by jowl with daffodils, which allows left-over greens to become a floor for successive plants to penetrate. Flopping leaves are an attractive mulch if laid flat and tucked under other border dwellers.

Earl, divide your mother’s bulbs often, wait to get rid of the leaves, give them a little bone meal as a treat and rest assured that next year’s daffodils will be glorious.

If you have any questions, suggestions or comments, “ask Nanny” at asknanny@riverreporter.com.