09/10/2025
My dad, Eldon Shingleton, always said we were alike, which was a big compliment. He said we do everything the hard way. We count cows by their legs, then divide by four. I think he was right, and here's an example.
I have always thought dahlias were beautiful but was daunted by how complicated they were to grow. My mother talked about how her father, Harvey Eugene Richardson, used to grow dahlias, which won prizes at the county fair. Of course, the story involved digging them up in the fall and replanting in the spring. That sounded like a bit much for me until I saw a post from Sweet Violet Farm that Violet was selling dahlia tubers to support the backpack program to provide weekend food for students. Perfect time for me to try growing tubers!
My mother and I made the trek to the other side of the county, and we picked up two globs of tubers from Violet's farm. I followed Violet's instructions, along with recommendations I read on Pinterest. It involved brushing extra dirt off, storing them in a cool place over the winter (I found out that the cellar at the Inn is actually a cistern, so not as cool as a cellar would be,) splitting them carefully so each one had an eye,, planting them into pots in the Spring in my mother's basement to give them a head start (until the cat decided to eat the shoots, which required a quick move of the pots while my mother fended off the cats,) a move to my daughter's greenhouse for a few weeks, then finally testing the soil where they were to be planted, finding the soil to not be the correct acidity, buying stuff to correct the acidity, planting, watering, fertilizing, staking,and finally beautiful dahlia blooms!
A lot of work, but beautiful flowers. So, I knew I needed to repeat the whole process in the fall. Come fall, we all got sick, and I had surgery. Therefore, the tubers were left in the ground all winter. I knew that I would have no dahlias because I hadn't followed the 13-step process of the year before.
For those of you who have stuck with me this far, it must seem like a sad ending. But, alas, the dahlias grew again this year, and we had even more than last year. The moral of the story is "You don't have to count cows by their legs and divide by four. Just count one cow, and maybe you'll be right."