Hollyhocks

The town where my parents grew up and where my grandparents still live is a small one; the population is under 10,000. It's full of old houses and old yards, which fortunately equates to an abundance of hollyhocks! Hollyhocks are an old-fashioned flower. I rarely see them in my area of the 'burbs, but they seem abundant in the old parts of town and in the small, rural towns we so often pass through on our road trips.

I tried my hand at hollyhocks of my own last year and planted a whole packet along a back fence, but nothing came up. I can't say I was too surprised, given that the ground there had more in common with a concrete sidewalk than a flowerbed. This spring I vowed to rip out the ugly, scraggly ground cover and work some fertilizer into that dirt so that I could plant the hollyhock seeds I received from Linda. I have to shamefully admit that I didn't get the work done in time and my laziness coupled with our unusually wet and cold May-June meant that I didn't get any more seeds planted.

Imagine my surprise when a few green shoots with heart-shaped leaves popped up! A few of the seeds I planted last year survived the cold winter and the poor soil and up they came. They weren't completely unscathed, as the stalks are much shorter than they should be and only managed a few pitiful white blooms before they keeled over and died. Next year I'm going to try again with Linda's precious seeds and some old ones I found in a bag at an estate sale. The old seeds may be dead, but what have I got to lose? I'm sure Linda's are still good. I have already worked several bags of Soil Pep into the ground and I'm determined to have my own hollyhocks for next summer! Maybe in a few years mine will look like the flowers I saw all over Alamosa, in gorgeous fuschias, pinks and whites. Maybe they'll add a little old-fashioned charm to my otherwise modern, suburban backyard.