by germinatrix | April 5th, 2009
Big Bad Blossoming Willard
I can’t stop looking at Willard.
I am so proud of my blooming Aloe Marlothii – he who is so strangely beautiful with all those pricklies poking out all over his leaves that I had to name him for the hottest creep in cinema – Willard (Bruce Davison’s Willard from 1971, not Crispin Glover’s more recent turn).
When I first laid eyes on Willard, he was in full bloom; his giant colorful spike was so alluring I couldn’t help but stare. He was holding court at California Cactus Center, surrounded by smaller, less glorious aloes and agaves – he was obviously the star. Everywhere I went, I could feel a pull, a thing I can only describe as chemistry between this Aloe marlothii and myself. But he was so far out of my league! I mean, yes, I’m a good gardener; I’ve even had some moments I might call great – but this aloe belonged in better gardens than mine. I lingered over my purchases that day, making eyes at the aloe, but I did the sensible thing and went home before I embarrassed myself.
But I just couldn’t get him out of my mind. I found myself disinterested in my own aloes … they were okay, but they weren’t him. I even started ignoring them and I know they felt it, but I couldn’t help it. I started making excuses to go to shopping for succulents, and as I got closer to the Cactus Center I would get so nervous – what if he wasn’t there? But he always was… and I would giggle and run over to him and flirt with the idea of him being mine. I was so shameless, so obvious.
People noticed. The people who work there knew there was something up – but this was a star-crossed event; there was no way – no way I could have him. I simply couldn’t afford a succulent that big.
But the strength of this attraction was undeniable to everyone around, and the sixth time I went there to ‘look for stuff for a new project’, Molly, the owner, took me aside. I thought she was going to tell me I was making a fool of myself and to pull myself together, but she did the most incredible thing.
She let me have him. As a gift. The tender hearted Molly knew true romance when she saw it, and she had to let love prevail. Never has anyone been so generous to me. (well, there is also the possibility that my sordid behavior was scaring off her other customers). She even had Willard delivered to me.
Oh, that first year! It was a honeymoon. I was so happy that he was with me, ME! And when his blossom faded, he was still beautiful – so rugged and tough … a true ‘bad boy’. Even the other aloes swooned; they liked having him around. He fit right in. All was right in the garden.
And then the next year, he didn’t bloom. No big deal, I thought – it happens sometimes. Best not to make a thing about it and risk a complex. He still made me happy.
And then the next aloe blooming season, nothing. All the other aloes had tall, proud bloomspikes – but my big, bad Willard? Not even the tiniest hint of anything coming up. What could I do? I waited for the next season.
When there was no bloom for the third year I started asking questions. Was it me? Was I not doing something right? I thought I was so good – I catered to this Aloe. Maybe I was being too nice. You know how aloes are. They like it rough and dry and rocky. So I started ignoring him. I started going out looking for other plants.
Still nothing. By the fourth year, I was resigned to Willard being bloom-free. I was used to him that way. No, it wasn’t what we had at the beginning, but it was comfortable. The garden was in balance – Willard was just one of many large, beautiful plants.
And then, this year, on the day I found out that the magazine I’d been writing for for years was folding, I noticed that Willard seemed a little perkier. I took a closer look, and I saw the beginnings of something I thought I’d never see – in the crotch of the uppermost leaves was that unmistakable swelling of a bloomspike. OH! On that day of all days, Willard knew how to cheer me up!
OH YES!!! YES!!!
These days, I am a very happy gardener…
Spent Blossoms
I love this story! I’m going to start loitering at the nursery making eyes at the golden yew I can’t justify buying right now. Maybe they’ll see that there’s magic there, and do something to put us together.
I’m glad to hear the romance has been renewed, Germi. Some guys like girls who play hard to get, right?
Hi Megan! I was SO SHOCKED when Molly of CCC gifted me Willard! When does something like THAT ever happen? Since then, I’ve made it a policy to show my desire for everything, on the off chance I might inspire a sudden burst of generosity. I don’t know if a thing like that happens twice, but if it does, I’m ready!
Pam dear, This post happened right after I was staring at the burgeoning bloomspike of your Mangave. I tell you your blog is always inspirational! … this whole Willard experience has reinforced the old rule about not being too coddling – of my plants or my men!
Love the story of how you came to live with Willard. And his timing for your first bloom together, perfect!
Last year on my annual birthday visit to Cistus Nursery, here in Portland, I was trying to decide between a couple of small yucca varieties. Sean, the owner, was assisting us. I made my decision, we were paying, and then he went and got the 3rd one (the one I was leaving behind) and added to to the cart, as a birthday gift from the nursery. What a kind gesture! He already had a customer for life but doing something like that just makes me know I am spending my money at the right place!
Isn’t it great, Loree, when a shop/nursery owner does something like that? That is why I will always go to an independent nursery first – there is a real personal connection that supports the business. Just like in your case, Molly had me as a loyal customer already, but in that gesture she secured me as a staunch supporter, advocate, and free sales associate (I am always talking people into buying when I’m at her nursery – I can’t help it!).
Ah, to be gifted a spiky plant! Aren’t we lucky?
YOU MAKE GARDENING SO SEXY! LOVE THIS STORY! ENJOY THE LOVE AFFAIR GIRL!
<3,
INTHEORY
Dear InTheory! Hi!
Gardening is all about attraction, isn’t it? Birds and bees and all that? Sex is just rampant in our gardens, that’s part of the fun!
The love affair continues…
So glad you dropped by!
Don’t we always love what we can’t have, don’t have, or doesn’t behave like we think it should! men and plants alike . . . My obsession is a Royal Poinciana tree that has been in the ground for 7 years and has yet to honor us with a single blossom. Maybe this year is the year! Hope springs eternal.
Hi Ivette.
I love your blog and writing aswell!
In fact I just added you to my sidebar. Willard is quite the Johnny Depp for you it seems (if you like Johnny Depp that is)!
What a great plant and a great story! Perhaps I need to turn up at my local nursary with a rose in between my teeth, gawking and lamenting my latest Monroe! (btw…very funny about scaring off other customers).
I am so happy we found each other finally, I will work my way backward through your blog, you will be hearing a lot more from me!
Regards,
ESP.
It’s SO TRUE Mary Beth – we drive ourselves mad with anticipation and then when we are thwarted – AAAAAAHHHHH!!!
I will send out good thoughts to your Delonix regia – the national tree of my birthplace, Puerto Rico! There, we call the Royal Ponica a ‘Flamboyan’ – I LOVE that name – it suits that gorgeous tree perfectly!
ESP – Right on! Blog friends!
And yes, if Willard were made flesh, it would be Johnny Depp’s flesh. How did you know?
Please – if you DO end up at your local nursery, rose between your teeth – take pictures!!!
I’ll be doing the same with your blog – starting at the first post and catching up.
Fun!
I have a giant colorful spike now that I know you’re back to blogging and I can keep up with your garden, and its characters, again. Not everyone can write with lust in their hearts for their plants.
Elizabeth from GardenRant just bemoaned the other day abut how food writing is sexy & lusty and garden writing is all, “Ten best perennials to match your outdoor kitchen!” Or something to that effect.
Good to have someone dirty writing about gardening. Take that any way you want.
JCharlier! Yay! How fun to have my old friends visit!
I think gardening IS lusty – and it would be great if we all just put away any puritanical inhibitions and indulge in the sexiness of what we do, WOW!
So I’ll take you comment in that spirit – THANKS!
Germi – this is why I love you. Awesome post.
The feeling is so mutual, sweet Andrea!
XO!