My husband had been perfectly happy raising iris for his own pleasure for 10 years when a friend suggested that he enter the annual iris show.
He didn’t take to the idea at all. He hadn’t even let me cut iris for the house unless a rain or wind storm had laid them flat, so you can imagine how he felt about cutting his loveliest stalks before he had time to enjoy them himself.
Also, he had not bought many of the new and better iris varieties, so he was convinced that there was no point in trying to compete.
That’s where I differed from him. How could he know, I argued, when he had never been to an iris show in his life? So, at last, I extracted a half-promise to enter.
First Time Joining The Annual Iris Show
The morning of the show, he came in from the garden shaking his head—”Not a thing worth taking!”
Knowing what a perfectionist he is, I insisted he take me out to look. He found one stalk he thought “might do on the second go-round.”
I asked him to cut 3 others. Grudgingly he did, reminding me that iris are much prettier in the garden where they grow.
I stuck the stalks in a jug, saw he just had time to make his entries and hurried him to meet the deadline.
When he came home, he had won 3 blue ribbons and one red. That did it!
From then on, M. B. was determined to grow his iris. His catalog order doubled in size. Finally, a tree came down, the stump came up, and the iris bed took on size and importance.
Annual Iris Show Day Again
It seemed no time at all before it was show day again.
Garden club members can easily recall the agony of getting a few blooms and one arrangement safely to the club show, so I am sure they will sympathize with what I went through as M.B.’s helper.
Milk bottles and carrying cases were secured from our dairy the day before. Then, at 6 A.m., my husband was out in the garden cutting the stalks he wished to show—dozens this year!
By eight o’clock, each was in a separate bottle and classified. “Duck soup,” I thought. “He can leave here at nine and still get downtown in plenty of time.” We ate a leisurely breakfast and started to load the car at 8:30.
We each took an end of the first case and going down the steps, we snapped the top bloom of a prize stalk.
Determined not to be overly upset, we bruised another bloom getting the case in the car. M.B. reached over and threw the sadly mangled stalk on the ground.
Soon the back seat and floor were filled. The last case had to go on the floorboard in front.
I was afraid that wouldn’t work, but my determined husband said he would manage and started backing out of the drive.
He learned that the tall stalks were going to weave and either bruise or snap in a hurry. One did.
“Wait!” I yelled and ran to get a coat to cover my house dress. I crawled on the front seat beside M.B., and no contortionist ever managed to sit as I did for half an hour as we crawled through traffic, half of me in the back steadying the sliding cases and half in front. I was trying to keep the blooms from hitting the dash!
We got to the showplace one minute before the deadline, but there was no porter with a cart at the entrance as the schedule had promised.
M.B. dashed to the exhibit room to get a cart while I unloaded the iris, one bottle at a time, in a “No Parking” zone, at the same time trying to keep the curious passers-by from handling the blooms as they asked endless questions and breathed on them as they sniffed and “oooh-ed.”
By the time I got back home with the car, I had sworn a solemn oath never to participate in such an experience again.
But M.B. came home with “the most” blue ribbons in the show, plus medals and prizes.
A Better Way Of Transporting Iris
On his next birthday, I handed him a note on which I had written: “Happy Birthday! This entitles you to use one U-Drive-It truck on April 28 for transporting iris.”
He thought it was a joke at first, but I was dead serious.
I’ll admit I was a bit surprised when M.B. drove one home the night before the show that was as big as a moving van and as bouncy as a broncho.
During the year, he learned some new tricks. For example, he stuffed wax paper in the necks of the bottle to hold the stalks firm.
Since then, he has experimented with about 2″ inches of sand in the bottle with the water and with cork in the neck of the bottle, which are two additional methods of keeping those stalks from moving.
He had discovered, too, that seasoned exhibitors don’t give up in despair when a remarkable variety they wish to show isn’t quite ready.
Instead, they cut it the evening before—but more about that later.
What a joy it was the next morning to see those cases slide easily into the truck with head room and floor space galore!
And when M.B. mounted the cab in his business suit and hat and drove cautiously out the drive and down the street, I stood there relaxed and smiling, waving goodbye.
He had done it again when I met him after lunch—sweepstakes and all.
Many other shows have gone by since then. My husband still dislikes denuding his iris beds for one occasion.
Still, he has become reconciled to the thought that many flower lovers would not get to see the newer and better varieties if it were not for the shows—and anything for a possible convert!
Expert Exhibitor’s Helpful Reminders
Despite my somewhat ludicrous tales of getting iris to the shows, M.B. has continued to experiment with various methods and has evolved some helpful reminders for exhibitors, which he is glad to have me offer for whatever they may be worth.
Look For Iris’s Good Qualities
First, judges like varieties that possess good qualities:
- Well-shaped blooms
- Good texture
- Substance, good branching
These features are mainly inborn in iris varieties. But judges are also influenced by the specimens’ condition, and here’s where the growers’ efforts are judged.
Blooms should have a fresh appearance. Foliage should be healthy, not diseased.
A flower with unbalanced feeding may have an enormous bloom, but it may be faded and watery when compared with others of its kind.
It is well to remember that judges do their judging at the show. Therefore, they see the specimens there and there only.
It matters not what the iris looked like when you cut it. Your iris should be fresh and undamaged at judging time.
As you survey your crop the evening before show day, you usually find that you would have had no troubles if the show had only been a few days earlier or later.
Now, you have no blooms, or so it seems. But that’s where you are wrong. You do have some excellent ones, too, if you are willing to put forth a little effort.
Proper Way Of Selecting Specimens
In selecting specimens, try to find stalks with 3 open flowers in good condition at show time.
If not, try to find one with two well-placed blooms and a promising bud. Some varieties can look good with only one delicate open bloom and well-placed buds.
I have seen a stalk with one open bloom win best in the show. But, of course, a great deal depends on the individual judges.
Some like many open blooms, but three open blooms are usually par for the course, with a small penalty for a two-bloom stalk.
Way To Make Your Iris Bloom More
There are some tricks to getting 3, 4, or even more open at a time.
One such device is the holding back of the earlier blooms by placing an envelope over the buds just as they are maturing a few days before the show, meanwhile letting later buds catch up with them.
The envelopes can be removed on the morning of the show, and there you are—iris bustin’ out all over.
Admittedly, it’s a good trick if you can do it, but it sure sounds like a lot of trouble, and M.B. likes to hope that judges will not give very much credit for open blooms above three.
Number Of Excellent Blooms
Most judges will judge the flower’s quality rather than the sheer number of blooms.
If you have a nice stalk in your garden but with only one or two open flowers, you may have a winner if you have a matured bud or two.
You may hasten the opening of the buds by cutting the stalks the evening before and placing them in warm water.
This should be done carefully, preferably in individual containers such as milk bottles, spaced not to let the individual specimens touch each other.
Keep the water warm by periodic changing, and you will be amazed at how buds can be opened into fresh, crisp blooms.
Keeping stalks under solid artificial light is another method of forcing buds to open, and, of course, the two methods may be combined.
Transport Irises In Bottles
The hardest part, as you know by now, is still ahead. Whatever you do, don’t gather up all of your show stalks in one bunch and start out!
It is a crushing blow to see your best variety face the judge with two standards, or with a fall hanging by a thread, or with a bad watermark from bruising.
As has been pointed out, one of the better ways to transport the iris is in bottles which in turn are carried in divided cases or crates.
Don’t put the bottles too close together. Usually, a 24-bottle case should only carry 6 bottles with stalks.
Best Way To Transport Tall Iris Stalk
One of the most challenging problems is to get a tall stalk to the show.
Measure the stalk before you try to put it into the vehicle you use to transport them, or better yet before you cut it.
Your top bloom can snap off mighty easily if you try to put a 44”-inch stalk into a 43”-inch height.
Loading is still only half the job. Drive carefully.
Sudden stops, hard bumps, or jolts can also snap an iris bloom off the stalk.
Keep the windows closed so the wind won’t strike the blooms. You may be uncomfortable for a while, but that is better than ruining one of your best stalks.
After you arrive at your destination, if you are still alive and conscious, don’t be in too great a hurry as you unload your stalks.
After all, you have been through, and it would be just too much to lose one now.
At this stage, you decide with certainty that it just isn’t worth all the trouble.
Never again will you go through all this mess with its headaches and work and loss of sleep (not to mention the strain on your spouse!)—but you will.
And by the time you go back to collect your empty bottles, you will be starry-eyed as you dream of all the new varieties you will order.
Just wait till next year— you’ll really show them.
46536 by F.G. Satterfield