A Daffodil or Twenty
Much like my adventures with Tulips, I started out small, with a handful of daffodil bulbs in pots around our front door.
Feeling encouraged by my early efforts, I decided to be a little more ambitious and delved into over twenty different varieties, with wonderful names such as Pumpkin Spice, Happy Spice, Little Kiwi, Lady Madonna (wonder which one!), Nightcap, Frozen Pink and Apricot Whirl. They sound delicious!
Of course, choosing bulbs in the summer and actually getting them into the ground are two very different things.
Autumn through to December is an extraordinarily busy time when you run a Christmas business, and between that and looking after my two little boys, my carefully chosen bulbs remained in storage far longer than intended. December arrived, and I still hadn't planted them. Extremely late, although thankfully not quite too late.
To add to the angst, some had begun to develop mould. I found myself soaking them and carefully carving away the affected parts, much like preparing onions in the kitchen. All a bit stressful, and certainly not the idyllic afternoon of autumn planting I'd imagined when ordering them many months earlier.
Whether they would all look glorious together or turn into one enormous mess was anybody's guess. And then there was the small matter of whether anything would grow at all.
After a particularly rainy spell over the winter, my planter filled with water and stubbornly refused to drain. I was convinced the bulbs would surely rot, and that would be the end of my grand daffodil experiment. But, to my surprise, they survived, and the results were magnificent!
The only slight disappointment was that they didn't all flower at the same time. The tiniest, most delicate little bells made their appearance first, standing sweetly on their own while the others took their time. Although, looking back, perhaps that was for the best. Had they all appeared together, those little beauties might have been completely lost amongst their showier companions.
I've always had a soft spot for daffodils. They tend to make their appearance around Mother's Day, and my little boys do love presenting me with a bunch. They're not particularly grand flowers, but I think that's part of their charm.
One of my fond memories of growing up in the 1980s is making daffodil heads from egg-box cups, cutting, gluing and painting them into flowers. It's quite special seeing things come full circle, as my own little boys have started bringing home similar creations from nursery and their early days at school. Little works of art, naturally. Masterpieces, even!
And, quite randomly, one of my all-time favourite films is Doctor Zhivago. There's a beautiful moment when the landscape around Varykino suddenly comes alive with yellow flowers as spring arrives. A particularly memorable moment in cinema, and a scene I've always loved. Even when I'm completely absorbed in a film, I seem to have one eye on my next design. I suppose I never quite switch off!
All this experimenting with different varieties and colours naturally found its way into my work.
I experimented with a multitude of colourways in Irish Linen, from subtle ivory and creamy butter yellows through to sharper acidic shades, rich ochres and almost orange tones. In the end, I settled on a strong but still muted yellow and a fresh white for production.
Most of my decorations have a deliberately simple, almost naïve quality, rather than attempting to recreate their subjects in perfect perspective. But with the Daffodil, I felt the central trumpet needed to sit at an angle. Otherwise, it risked looking like any other flower, particularly my existing Flax Flower. That little shift in perspective made all the difference.
The trumpet is heavily embellished, bringing a little glitz to the centre, while the petals are left relatively untouched. I love the contrast between the decorative centre and the naturally matt finish of the Irish Linen, allowing the lovely colour and texture of the fabric to be admired.
And unlike my garden varieties, which all seemed determined to appear at different times, these little linen Daffodils can be enjoyed together throughout the year!
Our little Irish Linen Daffodils have joined the Tulips, Dewy Rose and Flax Flower in our growing collection of linen flowers. No watering required!
Katie xox
