Growing giant sunflowers - and other childhood traumas

 

OK, so I may be taking this a little seriously, but there's pride at stake here.  You see, the competition is fierce - it makes the Thriller in Manila look more like an over eager cuddling session.  Yes, the sunflower contest at my daughter's school has begun!

We have to fill in the slip by the end of term to receive five 'Russian Giant' sunflower seeds and already I'm panicking.  For a start, do I sow them directly into the soil or start them in pots?  I've read that pots can restrict the taproot development but then I don't want to be caught out by late frosts either.

Then there's the question of where to plant.  Should I go for a single spot or spread the risk?  And when they start growing, what's the best way to support the stems?

I need help.  I need advice.  And I probably need counselling.

You might think I'm getting a little obsessed, but you see, I have my own dark memories of school competitions.  In my day it was 'grow the largest marrow'.  We were all given a couple of seeds.  My elder brothers nonchalantly dropped them into the soil and returned to their raft-building, chicken-lassoing, sister-shooting or whatever anti-social activity was currently in vogue. 

As an aside, they really did partake in all these 'sports'.  Including shooting a wooden arrow into the side of my head (my father believed in crafting them accurate replicas rather than namby-pamby blunt-ended weapons).  And the fact we got any eggs at all from the traumatised chickens is a minor miracle.

Anyway, whilst my brothers ignored the veg patch, I dutifully watered, tended and hoed my little planting area, waiting day after day for the plants to emerge.  It was about three weeks later when my father finally let me know I must have weeded out my own seedlings.  And while my brothers had lovely healthy marrows to take to school, I was left empty handed.

Between this and an unfortunate incident when I fed the family Bergenia crumble (remarkable how similar to young rhubarb this looked), it took me until my mid-twenties to regain my gardening mojo.

So these sunflowers are more than just a seed to me - they are regression therapy.

Comments

[JamesA-S]

I worry that all those blunt trauma arrow wounds have slightly tipped your competitive instincts from pre-school to Chris Hoy!
Long pots may be the answer to the seed conundrum but I have no idea what to do about the mildly deranged parent problem.
My children had to grow petunias and other parents used to give me strange 'call yourself a gardener' looks when our offerings were, frankly, rather aphid damaged and pathetic.
What's the prize?

[Dawn Isaac]

How embarrasing. I've just realised I have no idea what the prize even is. It could be another five sunflower seeds for all I know and yet I know I will still pursue it as if it were a million pound jackpot.

Sadly, I have passed on my unrelenting competitiveness to my daughter. Oh, the curse of genetic inevitability...

[Deb]

I'm wondering what I may be unleashing with plans to hold a sunflower growing competition at the club....

Are you this competitive over everything or just sunflowers?!

[Dawn Isaac]

ummm... everything. That's not good is it?!

But don't let it put you off the competition. Statistically, you should only get one or two parents with my border-line lunatic competitiveness.

[Karen - An Artist's Garden]

I can only sit with a big smile on my face reading this post - I don't know what to say, I certainly cannot think of anything helpful - apart from long root trainers to start the seeds off - the centers of kitchen roll holders - although I would probably hedge my bets and put one on a 2ltr pot.
:) good luck!
K

[Dawn Isaac]

Right, I have now unwound the last of my kitchen roll to do this. I am also trialing toilet roll inners and the longest pots I can find.

I shall report on progress!