Mysterious Wisteria...

If I know very little about plants now, I knew nothing a couple of years ago when I bought my beloved wisteria-- a twiggy little stick of a plant about 3 feet tall and pathetic as anything I've ever seen.

And I certainly didn't know it could grow up to 50 feet long. Last year alone it grew to a modest sized shrubby thing. This year... Well the year is just beginning.

When I bought my Prize, I DID know it could tear the siding off a house, or the gutters off a roof, or a host of other things. (Which I omitted telling Hubby when I first bought it. Why worry him? At least, until it was in the ground and he'd have to dig it up if he wanted it gone...)

I'm sure I'm not the only person who has driven by one of those houses with a well established wisteria, those large clusters of flowers hanging like grapes, wafting their scent across the yard, leaving me green with gardener envy.
I've seen them creep up the sides of stone walls, cascade over porch awnings and arch over pathways and imagined that mine would be just as beautiful.

And most likely better.

Unfortunately, the flowers are stubborn as, well, a mule I suppose. (Though I've never met a mule personally before so I can't be sure.)

Everyone has a theory. Or almost. And those few that don't, like me, throw up their hands with an "Ehhh!" and a sigh and a keen sense of disappointment.

I bought my wisteria two years ago and expected flowers to erupt from the vines, the moment I set that root ball in the ground. I know- garden naivety.

But from what I've read, wisteria flowers can take up to ten years to appear...

Or you can shock the roots by spading them back a few feet from the main trunk...

Or you can add phosphorus to the roots to force blooms...

Or you can add another wisteria to the mix and hope they cross pollinate...

Or you can prune the thing back viciously until it thinks it's about to die...

Or you can do all these things...

And nothing will happen.

And so you stare wistfully at your wisteria and hope you'll be around for those blooms when they finally show.

But I'm preparing myself for that day. And until then, I'll play with it, twisting the vines back, sprinkling who knows what around the trunk, attacking it with every garden tool I own, and if all else fails, I'll plant another one.

At midnight-- when Hubby is sleeping deeply and can't stop me until it's too late.

But for now, this 15 foot long or so little guy is free to run rampant. At least until Hubby gives me the evil eye and I'm forced to pull out the pruning shears. But even plain, boring green, I love this mysterious little wisteria.