my flowery midlife crisis

Santa's Little Helper was the first cultivar I bought

I don't remember exactly when my interest in daylilies started. About four years ago, maybe? But I do remember exactly how.

I'd been in this house for over ten years, and had yet to figure out what to do about the yard and gardens. I'd gotten rid of the plants I didn't like -- the evergreen bushes and box trees, that awful, awful pachysandra -- did I mention that I hate pachysandra? But I was left with lots of empty planting space and no coherent idea of what I wanted. Every spring and summer I'd by shrubs of one sort or another. Some would live and some would die. And I had a ragged looking garden.

One day, during the summer, I was talking to my neighbor (who knows a lot more about plants and gardens than I do) as I was dealing with a patch of ground. I noted how so much of what I planted died, but the wild daylilies kept thriving no matter how many times I pulled them out of the ground. "That's it!" I declared, "I'm replacing everything with daylilies. If they live this well, then that's what I need!"

Of course, I wasn't serious. At least not in the sense of wanting to literally get rid of all my plants and replace them with daylilies. fact is, I didn't even know that daylilies come in varieties other than the ugly wild orange ones that are so prevalent in this area. But my neighbor took that as an opening. She pointed out that she's a member of the Long Island Daylily Society (LIDS), that LIDS was having an auction that coming Tuesday, and that I should go. I was hesitant. But it was something that I could do with my daughter. And it's a really nice group of people. And there would be free refreshments. What the heck.

Blazing Cannons never really "took" in my garden.

So, I went to an auction. It was interesting. The plants that are auctioned off aren't in bloom. They're fans, either potted or bare root clumps. But you're told what kind it is, and given some information about it -- how high it will grow, how big the blooms are, how many blooms it's likely to produce, etc... -- and they display a picture of what the blooms should look like. I hadn't expected to actually bid on anything. But Sharon was taken with the picture of Santa's Little Helper. "Abba, can we buy that?" How could I not? As an aside, I'll note that when Santa's Little Helper was in bloom, and I was admiring it every day, my younger son wanted to show it to my mom. He pulled her by the hand and pointed to it. "That's Santa's Little Helper." Then he pointed to a slightly taller scape on the same plant and said "That's Santa." I didn't have the heart to correct him.

That was the beginning. I joined LIDS and the American Hemerocalis Society (AHS). I won't bore you with the blow by blow of it all, but I go to most LIDS meetings. I clerked at LIDS' annual flower show last year, and will do so again this year. I'm hoping to take the certification class to be a judge for future shows. I have helped out in the daylily garden that LIDS maintains at a local arboretum.

I'm by no means an expert. But I'm learning. And this has gotten me to spend a lot of time in the garden these past few years. I am still working with other types of flowers -- I particularly like hostas and creeping flox. But daylilys have a special place in my heart. I have lots of different kinds, but I honestly can name only a few of them because I don't keep them labelled -- unlike the true enthusiast, I just like the pretty flowers.

A lone Spider Man bloom on Spiderman's grave

Daylilies have also come in quite handy. A year and a half ago, my younger son's kitten, Spiderman, dies unexpectedly. We buried him in the yard. A clump of "Spider Man" daylilies, given to us by fellow LIDS members and planted on the kitten's grave, helped to assuage the grief.

Last year, we were catsitting for a boy whose life had been torn upside down. One of the cats -- the 25-year-old named Dexter -- died in our care. We held a funeral (a whole story in and of itself), and the promise to find appropriately-named daylilies for the grave went a long way toward helping him deal with things.

I joke that the garden (and daylilies in particular) is my mid-life crisis. Is it really? I don't know. But if it is, than it sure beats the cliches -- expensive cars and young lovers -- that people talk about as typical midlife crisis activities.