Hooray for Prince of Orange the first sweet pea bloom of the season,
but wait ...it's not orange!
but wait ...it's not orange!
Photo: Chronica Domus
Heirloom varieties of sweet peas in zesty shades of orange beckoned
to be taken home and planted in my garden
Photo: Chronica Domus
I sowed half a dozen of each variety on April 29 and patiently awaited their germination. Sweet peas, as you may know, can take an age to get started so I make it a point to soak the seeds overnight in hopes of softening their rock-hard shells. Right before I sow them into the moist, compost rich soil, I chip away a little of their coating in an effort to aid them along. Even with this additional step, the seeds can take up to two excruciatingly long weeks to germinate. As William Langland reminds us in his poem, "Piers Plowman" patience is, indeed, a virtue. I do try though.
Three months have now passed and I'm not exactly sure what happened to Mr. Eckford. All I have to show for my efforts is a lone plant. Perhaps the gentleman is a little shy?
Lathyrus odoratus Henry Eckford was first bred by the man himself in 1906
Photo: Chronica Domus
The few blooms I have been able to gather thus far possess such peculiarly stunted stems that arranging them in a vase is next to impossible. Ah well, as I'm not one to give up easily I will try planting Henry Eckford again either later in the autumn or early next spring.
What in the world has happened to Henry Eckford's stems?
Photo: Chronica Domus
Photo: Chronica Domus
And, as for the Prince, imagine my surprise upon seeing his true colors come to light.
Looks more pink flamingo than Prince of Orange to me!
Photo: Chronica Domus
With barely a scintilla of orange to behold, my dream of gathering orange-hued sweet peas this summer has, alas, been dashed. Admittedly, despite the unanticipated color, I am really quite chuffed to have pink flamingos taking flight in my vase. The blooms are exceptionally pretty, no matter their rosy hue.
Might the Prince's orange reveal itself if I squint I wonder?
Photo: Chronica Domus
As a gardener, albeit an amateur one at best, I am constantly humbled by the act of nurturing the tiniest seed. Regardless of how meticulously one plots and plans ahead, and despite the coddling and cosseting, Mother Nature always has the last word. Either that or, as I suspect might be the case here, there was a mix-up at the packet-filling end of things.
Have you ever grown anything from seed with unexpected results?
Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog. I do so because I enjoy them. If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.
Hello CD, I noticed your seeds came from Missouri. Perhaps these heirloom varieties are more sensitive to climate and location. For something as apparently particular as orange sweet peas, you might want to find a more local source.
ReplyDelete--Jim
Hello Jim,
DeleteI've been buying that particular company's seeds for several years and everything grows according to plan, which is why I'm so very puzzled by the pink color of these supposedly orange sweet peas. Perhaps they've been receiving some extra fertilizer from Norton, our recently adopted kitty.
Hi CD, Funny bc last year I planned to line my whole balcony rail with sweet peas. I did this year but I wasn't very organised so I ended up ordering different colours to see which would be best. But I ordered from 2 different companies and they were ever so slightly different than expected though not to your degree. Funny I don't recall seeing orange sweat peas in either catalogue. They still do look beautiful though.
ReplyDeleteHello Naomi,
DeleteVisions of sweet peas trailing from a balcony rail sounds divine! I should look for the seeds of the more bushy sweet pea varieties to try that for myself. Thanks for the idea.
I love that color! I am impressed! I have bought pounds of seeds and nothing bloomed. 100 pounds of California poppy seeds, to be exact. Not one. My gardener (former) blamed the chickens.
ReplyDeleteHello Penelope Bianchi,
DeletePrince of Orange (or should I call him Prince of Pink Flamingos) is certainly a pretty color but far from the promised orange hue I expected. And, Henry Eckford turned out to look more like scarlet runner bean than orange sweet pea blooms. Such an oddity but it is all part of the fun of being a gardener I suppose.
PS Those are always orange!!!
ReplyDeleteOh, and yes, I would agree with your gardener. I bet your chickens partook in some fabulous snacking. Poppy seeds are very delicious, don't you know?
DeleteDo try again for swathes of bright orange poppies brightening up your garden is surely in your future.
I used to grow sweet peas from seeds every year. I planted them in February and during the spring months in Southern California they would grow beautifully. That was in the 80's-90's. I've tried unsuccessfully in recent years until this past year when I purchased Renee's Seeds in a couple of colors. They were very fast growing although they didn't produce blooms in the numbers of the early years. I've wondered what the secret is as well. I sometimes think I over attend to them! :-)
ReplyDeletexo,
Karen
Hello Karen,
DeleteNice of you to drop by (long time no hear!).
Renee's Garden sweet pea seeds are marvelous and I've had great luck with them in past years. My favorites are Regal Robe and April In Paris, which I wrote about here:
http://chronicadomus.blogspot.com/2015/08/whats-blooming-inside-sweetest-of-sweet.html
One secret, for lack of a better word, that I'd like to pass along to you is the more blooms you cut, the better. If the blooms remain on the vine for too long, they'll go to seed and stop producing. See, sweet peas are the perfect cut flower to fill your vase! Also, sweet peas stop flowering in the heat so start your seeds early.
Which varieties did you grow this year?
Well they're lovely, albeit not as compliant as one might prefer;).
ReplyDeleteHello Lisa,
DeleteI have the Baker Creek Master Seedsman on the case who shall report back soon (will give all an update if and when I hear anything).
Those sweet peas are so lovely. I have grown flowers by forcing bulbs (paper whites, amaryllis, etc.) but never by seed. I did try growing basil, parsley and catnip by seed. The basil was lackluster so I now buy the plants in late spring. My parsley was mowed down by a hungry groundhog. The catnip was very successful until our cats discovered where I hid it and ate the poor plants right down to the roots. Perhaps I should try flowers instead.
ReplyDeleteBest,
KL Gaylin
Hello KL Gaylin,
DeleteThank you, so pleased you enjoyed the sweet peas, regardless of their hue. I've been cutting them daily and they bring me such joy (and smell good too!). Do please buy a packet and try them for yourself, and report back with your successes.
I've yet to grow any herbs from seed (volunteer chives, yes) and I shall heed your warning re the catnip (Norton will devour it to be certain!).
My daughter recently handed me a sprig of mint, which she found in a store purchased salad and, would you believe, I managed to root it in water and that little sprig is now an entire plant, all in the course of two months!
I love the flamingo pink blooms, and I have to say that I've never seen (or realised they existed) sweet peas in Orange! Have you tried soaking the sweet pea seeds in milk? The lactic acid helps to break down the tough outer shell so that they germinate more successfully.
ReplyDeleteI love a sweet pea, but have had mixed success with growing them from seeds myself as well... far easier from the punnet, but then you get the more common pink, white and purple and less of the more interesting varietals that way. Happy gardening! x
Hello Heidi,
DeleteIn all my years of growing sweet peas, I've never heard of this tip (soaking seeds in milk). I shall try it the next time around and report back. Makes perfect sense to me.
Do try growing yours from seed again, and plant more than you think is necessary as not all the seeds germinate. As you say, you can select the more unusual colors that way (there are so many great ones and I'm working my way through the color spectrum each summer).