Saturday, March 20, 2010

Feeling Blue

I've pretty much got a one-track mind these days, and it has little to do with my garden and almost everything to do with the little bundle of joy who should be arriving in the next week or so. But that doesn't mean that I have completely ignored my garden, it just means I see my garden through rose-, I mean baby-colored, glasses.

As I look at my garden these days, I see that it is trying to tell me something that I've hitherto not known: whether I'm having a boy or a girl.

Blooming and perfuming the air like crazy are the Texas mountain laurels seen below and at the top of the post.While not technically blue, these blooms are pretty close to what constitutes blue in the gardening world.

Ditto for the blue, I mean grape, hyacinths.Next we've got the larkspur, which is on the verge of blooming and will definitely be blue: So far, that's three blue, zero pink.

Now we move to the less clear signs of gender. This iris bud should turn out more lavender than blue. Does that mean it's abstaining in the boy-or-girl debate?
The vast majority of my spiderwort seem to be leaning male, but these hot pink ones are desperately trying to get noticed:
This cutie is the bluest of all my blue plants and would be a clear indicator
IF it weren't named Veronica. A boy named Sue might be okay these days but a boy named Veronica? I don't think it'll happen.

And there's the baby blue eyes from Rachel at In Bloom, which really should be screaming boy:except for that pesky word "eyes." If the name were simply baby blue, then I could go ahead and buy some non-gender-neutral clothing. But "eyes" ruins my hypothesis. It's not even helpful in predicting the color of my baby's eyes. Aren't all babies born with blue eyes?

Of course, there is a distinct possibility that blue/purple flowers are my favorite and that I've perhaps planted the ground so to speak. But is it really a coincidence that the two pink roses I planted--Duchesse de Brabant and Belinda's Nightmare Dream--died? (I wasn't pregnant when I bought or killed them, but hey, maybe they knew something then that I didn't.)

In conclusion, after this scientific analysis of my blooms, I have decided that my garden seems to be suggesting that there's a 50 percent chance that I will have a boy.

Now if it could only be slightly more helpful in helping me come up with a potential name for a boy baby. Before next weekend, please.


  1. How clever of you. I suppose you have to look for signs anywhere you can, and those sure look like great ones in your garden.

  2. This is a very interesting method for determining if you are having a boy or a girl... one I've not heard of.

    Of course, I just naturally assumed that you would name the baby Vertie after you. It works for either a boy or a girl, doesn't it? Or perhaps you could name the baby Purslane, and call him Lane if a boy or Pursy if a girl?

    Watching your tweets every day for news...

  3. I wonder how the scientists would see this? Lovely blues, that's for sure. Can't wait to get the exciting news! This spring will be one to remember.

  4. Vertie, Since most "blue" flowers are truly more purple or lavender, as you pointed out, the color is really a mixture of blue and red (or pink, if I'm pushing it). So perhaps all the flowers are still ambiguous? Can't wait to find out!

  5. A springtime baby, how perfect!

  6. You know how I love those blue-purple blooms. Yours are lovely! You have lots more than I do at the moment.

    Looking forward to your baby news. I've always liked the name "Zane"...

  7. The usual tattletale flowers are yellow ones like dandelions saying you like butter or daisies bearing witness to true love, but maybe your blue will be true, Vertie ;-]

    With so many green names to choose from you'll need quintuplets! Gregory or Josiah for either Gregor Mendel or Josiah Gregg the Texas botanist; Johnny as in Appleseed; John as in either of the Tradescants (and after all, your spiderwort is Tradescantia); Carl/Charles/Carolus Linden/Linnaeus; or maybe Jean-Jacques as in Rousseau would add that touch of France LOL. Tom Spencer would be ultra Austin.

    Or in a twist on the way men's names are feminized to honor a man when a girl is born, you could let the male name Claude honor Claudia Alta Taylor AKA Lady Bird Johnson.

    Now I'll bet you're sorry you asked!

    Annie at the Transplantable Rose

    (Even the verification is trying to get into the act. Does "Nomeden" = Name Eden?

  8. I'll be keeping my eye on your blog to see whether the garden is a true predictor of a baby's sex. After all, long ago, they used to come from the cabbage patch.

  9. I found it interesting that your blog's name is Vert but the first post I've read here is called "feeling blue."

    Wishing you an easy labor and a healthy baby, whatever its sex. :)