Tag Archives: ranunculus

Gardening adventures, part one.

13 Apr

Captain’s log: It seems I have not written since December. You’re used to these delays at this point, aren’t you? Did you notice I entitled this ‘part one’? That’s hope right there. Hope there will be more.

I’m becoming a bit gardening obsessed. It’s happened gradually, each year more than the prior. I have a sunroom full of trays with tiny tomatoes, peppers, and flowers for the cut garden. Dahlia tubers are in a tub, crossing my fingers they wake up and are ready for another season. But here’s the big new adventure: ranunculus.

I happened upon the Costco display of bulbs, tubers, and corms and decided ranunculus would be a fun new thing to take my time and my money. They are darling flowers, adorable and squishy. (They literally say you should harvest the blooms when they squish like a marshmallow.) I bought a package. I’m gambling $13 on the 100 corms inside.

On the back of the package, it has the map with the suggested planting times. For Wisconsin, it lists April to June. After some further research, I worry the package is misleading me. In fact, I probably should have started them two weeks ago (if not longer) as ranunculus love spring weather. They begin to shut down when the temperature reaches the mid-70s. I may be too late.

OR the long cool springs we have at our house due to proximity to Lake Michigan may play to my advantage. All the same, we’re giving them a go. So last night, the process began.

I soaked the corms for 3.5 hours in room temperature water in my lovely green pyrex bowl. They really are other-worldly or deep-sea like. Weird looking for sure. Soaked, they then got stuck in a thin layer of soil and now will live in the garage (no natural light, mid-50s temperature ideal) for two weeks when they should (fingers and toes crossed) begin to grow roots and the beginning of a stem.

That’s all for now. We wait. Gardening adventure part one will be a learning process and perhaps one big giant fail. But instead of the worst that can happen, what’s the best? Squishy flowers. Let’s hope for that.