Separate The Corms From The Mothers, Toss The Mothers

Or we could call this Iris For Dummies. That's certainly how I feel right now and I've raised them for decades. 

Perhaps I need to start over. "Raised" sounds a lot more active than I've been. Sure, I've had them in various gardens, but in they went, and ignored they got. Whatever survived, survived. Over the years some died out. Others cross bred and new color blends arose, particularly among the varieties which grew seed pods each year, mostly ignored except by the chipmunks and possibly a few birds. Maybe mice.

But there's a new garden waiting for plants, and the budget has been stretched more than enough, so with my son's permission, since he owns the house now, it was transplanting time. Mistakes had been made in the initial planting, most of which involved rocks, while the remainder of which mostly involved trees, a whole different story. 

One rock in particular stood out - in fact still stands out in the yard. It's a huge boulder, granite with wide streaks of feldspar, unearthed during the construction of the city's new Public Works Building some years back. It was one of several set way out next to the street awaiting a destination, while the concrete pad was poured. It needed heavy equipment to move it, but it sure would look nice along a corner of the yard as an accent piece, as well as a resting spot when one had worked hard enough for a while and wanted to sit and enjoy the yard. Actually the working part is not a requirement. It is big enough to hold three people, if they're not feuding. I asked the city clerk had anybody spoken for the rock yet? Was there a plan for getting rid of it or being used in landscaping for the building? The answer was the rock appearing in the yard the next day a couple feet from the driveway and just a bit farther from the street. It wasn't the corner I had in mind, but who was I to argue? No chance I'd move it myself! It had been accompanied by three other large rocks, which were movable by the right combination of wheels and muscles. I guess I solved all the rock problems for them at once!

Rock above, close up of feldspar details below.

I decorated the side of the rock nearest the house with pale blue bearded iris. They've thrived there, sort of. So has the grass, baby trees from all kinds of stray seeds, dandelions, violets, Virginia creeper vines, and whatever other opportunistic flora came along. The iris at least kept producing blooms, even if only one stem a year, like this one below, shot after a rain last spring. The area couldn't be mowed, or weed-wacked, or sprayed. They needed a new home and I had just the one to offer.  Offer accepted. After a couple big back-to-back rain storms, it was time to dig. September is right around the corner.

 A friend who loves gardening and gratefully accepted a few corms from me the previous week from a different blue iris, reminded me then that the basic rule for iris transplanting is to remove the corm from the mother and toss the mother. So: definitions needed, as it's not as heartless as it sounds. The corm is the lumpy part with leaves on it that will bloom next year. It is still attached when first dug up to a skinnier lumpy part, the mother, which bloomed previously and shrunk back, just life enough remaining to make one or more new corms for the next year. When blooming isn't happening, a new home is needed.

These had been neglected for a couple decades, were seriously overcrowded themselves, and totally infested with grass and other weeds. The original heavy tan clay they'd been planted into was now rich black loam full of roots. In addition to iris roots and grass roots, the birch trees along the drive had added their roots to the mix. Several baby cherry trees in the mix had grown a foot tall already. Digging was "fun". "Interesting". One big! damn! challenge!

Lucky for me my son had gotten Friday off as an extra long Labor Day weekend. After struggling to get the first clump up and out, I went and rang his bell to see if he was interested in helping. We had talked about doing the job over the 3-day weekend, but the soil was wet and soft right now, so here I was. Now he didn't have to interrupt the rest of his holiday if he was willing to help with the shovel.

He was. I returned home with two pans full of clods of dirt full of a bazillion different roots around corms on mothers. Plus a ton of expressed gratitude. And he can now mow and/or weed-eat around the big rock.

Next stop was my sink. After about an hour, dirt was one pile in a pan including miscellaneous roots and angleworms demonstrating their expertise as escape artists, a dishpan next to it was full of corms, hopefully plucked free of grass roots,  and the corms cut back to 3" green leaf tops were soaking while I grabbed a break for myself. I have found that once all the dirt is gone, which the soaking helps achieve, the iris roots are tan, about a 1/16 inch thick while the grass roots are very thready, black, and tangled. In a while the plantable bits were bagged and put in the fridge, and the dirt with miscellaneous roots was spread over the lawn. It doesn't need to come anywhere within a yard of the garden. That already grows weeds just fine.The mothers and some clumps of roots are in the garbage bag under the sink and can sit there for a week until the bag is full and the garbage can is again empty. They won't stink at least.

 Over the weekend the spot for the bearded iris will be filled with currently bagged black dirt and iris corms, with spaces left for other colors of iris yet to arrive in the mail. It will be a hell of a job, but the weather is supposed to be perfect for it, and I can take a break until the next huge job comes along. Say, planting the ordered lilies, or spring bulbs, or....

I'm hoping for at least another week to recover afterwards, that plus a lot of ibuprofin. My shoulders are still trying to get my attention for a break. November sounds good for that, don't you think?