Near the end of November, it got too cold to keep our three season porch open to the rest of the house. The major task in closing it up for the winter was to bring in all the plants that thrived there during warmer months. One of the plants was an amaryllis, which had bloomed beautifully last winter. Although we have never been very successful at getting these bulbs to re-bloom, we keep trying. So we had put in the porch last spring to allow its leaves to regenerate the bulb's strength.
When we brought it back into the house, it was time for its second phrase. The theory is that such bulbs need a period of rest. We clipped its leaves and stopped watering it. Then it sat neglected on the kitchen counter, while we got busy with the holiday season. Finally we moved it into a closet - in the dark - where we promptly forgot about it. No water meant dormancy - at least that is the theory.
When the temperature (outside) dropped to almost zero Fahrenheit, Clem went to the closet for a warm wool blanket to toss in the backseat of the car. Just in case . . . In Minnesota we prepare for all contingencies in the winter.
When he opened the door, he recoiled in horror. What was this long, white thing stretching across the shelf. Then he shouted for me to come and see. It seems this fat bulb had its own trajectory in its life journey, a mind of its own. Whether it was watered or not.
The amaryllis had decided it was time to grow and had sent out its flower stock, a fat stem about two feet long. It had a flower bud on the end ready to open. Only there was another shelf about four inches above its winter abode. Going straight up, which is the usual custom of these gorgeous flowering plants, was out of the question. So it sent its stem out horizontally.
We now have this bizarre-appearing specimen out in the light and have given the determined plant water. But it shows no inclination to gravitate upward. It continues its defiant behavior to conform.
Hence, a household discussion has ensued as to the best course. Perhaps we need to build it a crutch to hold up its weight? And where might we let it continue what it has begun - as it occupies a strange space several feet long by now? (We wouldn't want it to watch television and daily updates of the equally strange GOP political campaign for President -it already having enough strange ideas of its own). And will its blossoms also be rotated ninety degrees from the norm - meaning one faces straight down, one faces straight up, and the other two parallel with the floor?
Or is all of this just one more symptom of an upside-down winter, in which we have no snow and temperatures are in the forties, while the rest of the country is struggling with major snowstorms, flooding, tornadoes, wildfires, and closed airport runways?
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