by Debbie Gorham, Willakenzie Lavender Farm
www.willakenzielavender.com
The lavenders look like bristle brushes laid out in rows in the frozen fog. My little friends. The deep and dreamless sleep they’re in. They look indifferent, pruned and dormant.
I stare out at them wondering when we’ll dig out the rest of the display bed to “re-do” come spring. I dote on the display bed with its 3 dozen cultivars, the show it puts on every spring. I’m surprised by how craggy-looking they’ve become over the decade even with my expert pruning.
In the cold weather, I’ve got the work gloves for the job. If it’s really cold outside but you’ve still got a mind to dig out root balls, go on outside and find the shovel. Wearing your new “chilly grip“ gloves with double-layer insulated knit liner and nitrile palm dip, your hands will feel well protected. You’ll really have no excuse. Go out there and dig plants I say to myself, as I stare dreamily out the window. These new “chilly grips” are a nice step up from the older style “chilly grip” gloves with the rubber palm coating. They’re warmer and the nitrile palm will last longer. I found mine at the Oregon Glove Company, 1-800-324-4439.
I stare into the frozen fog to the south and can just barely make out a large block of plants we’ve decided to retire. They’ve done a wonderful job for us, but now we can live with fewer. It’s time to try different varieties. We won’t live forever we remind ourselves. Try new things. So many cultivars; so little time! Yes, it’s time to dig up all 900 in that block and see how we like a few different kinds. Oh, the shovel work that lies ahead.
Another favorite field has been a workhorse, been the subject of many a glorious photograph, fed a few hundred thousand bees. It needs to come out, too. It’s our showpiece, we can’t let it go downhill and look bedraggled. We knew it was spent after the last festival. Lower production and again, that craggy look.
A suggestion came from a trusted plant supplier. “The Europeans do it,” she said. “You could try it instead of digging them up.” “What is it that might save this field?” I asked. “Prune them in half!” she said. See if they will grow back. See if a “severe prune” invigorates them. It will either kill them, or save them. “Might as well experiment, if you’re going to tear out the field,” she said. And so we did. We pruned them in half.
Will the ‘Royal Velvets’ survive the rash treatment we gave them, or are they toast? Am I looking out into the frozen fog at hundreds of truly dead plants, killed by my own hand, or will they wake up come spring with a smart new look? Stay tuned when Spring answers the question “how hard can you prune me.” And now I’m hoping for some snow like we had in 2008 when these pictures were taken, so digging out plants can wait a bit longer even though I love my new “chilly grips.”