Jean Marie


I love Dahlias!  

I love their colors, their endless variety, their happy blooms…there really isn’t a Dahlia out there that I haven’t liked.

Dahlias go by many names.  According to Mike, they’re often named for  or by the gardener that comes up with a  new variety.  I, of course, went looking for Dahlias with the same common (not the scientific names, I can’t even pronounce those half the time) names as family members.  There are a few Mary’s, but no Mary Ruth.  There’s a Dahlia, Daniel Edward, but no Edward George.  I did hit upon a Dahlia, Jean Marie, though…and had to have it.

Jean Marie was my mother.  Had we lived down south, she would have had a slew of these flowers.  Up here, though, in zone 6, a Dahlia is an annual.  Mom was into perennials.  She just loved watching the first crocus of spring break through the snow.  

“Mamma loved her roses!”

She’s moved on, passing her love of gardening and yarn to me, so it was truly special that I found this Dahlia.  I was only able to find  two sources, it’s getting pretty rare.  But, find one, I did.  I ordered two tubers.

Well.  One tuber rotted as soon as I put it in the ground.  The other did not fare well.  I spent all summer watching over it, waiting for it to follow my Mom into heaven.

Just like Mom, this plant is a fighter.  It’s short, didn’t hit the height that it was supposed to, but it finally stopped drooping over and set a late bloom.  If it’s the only bloom this plant puts up, I’m still happy!  

Next year, I’ll look for other varieties of Dahlias to plant.  Mayne I’ll plant Dahlia, Bodacious again!  Maybe a bright yellow cactus type, or a sweet little border type.  I’ll see if I can save this tuber, or find fresh ones, so Mom can come around and hang out with the others.  

For now…Mom…this one’s for you.  


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