Exhibitor's Life

Exhibitor's Life Hectic, But Fun
ByLoretta Aaron

You may never have visited a flower show, but after just one visit, I venture to guess you will become a devoted follower--maybe even an exhibitor, in which case, I promise you life will never be dull again.

All flower shows are open to the public, and no admission is charged. Upon entering the exhibition hall, a visitor will see table after table of perfectly groomed specimens.

Around the perimeter of the room will be many artistic creations--floral art at its best. Hostesses greet visitors, answer questions and pass out information sheets on how to grow the flowers on display.

But what takes place before the doors open to the public? Preparing specimens for a show begins months before the event. Much thought goes into purchase of choice plants. Hours are spent spraying, watering and fertilizing.

And anxious moments erupt when storm clouds gather.

It always seems to rain two days before a flower show. For this reason, specimens are often cut two days ahead to protect the petals from spotting.

Have you ever seen an exhibitor about this time? We hope not.

Wet hair, damp clothing, muddy shoes and a wild-eyed expression is some sight! The specimens, however, look great.

Some hazards still lie ahead. The family dog or cat generally will upset a bucket of specimens. A teenager hurrying to the refrigerator may collide with them. Most specimens will survive, but later, a few may become casualties on the way to the exhibition building.

Those of us who grow iris, one of the most difficult flowers to transport to shows, have experienced the heartbreak of snapping a standard or fall when packing the tall specimens in the car.

Even en route there are obstacles such as stop lights. The light always turns amber just before you reach the intersection. Then comes the decision--to stop or not to stop--a sudden braking could snap a petal. You weigh the decision, step on the gas and clear the intersection just as the light turns red.

After arriving at the exhibition hall, the flowers must be removed from the car. By this time, a gale will have blown up, so you turn your back to the wind and shield the specimens. When all are safely in the preparation room, you suddenly realize your hair is leaning to the north--but the blooms look great.

A crowd of exhibitors will be in the preparation room. There is little conversation, just feverish activity. Some exhibitor will be dashing around with a daffodil or iris held high--does anyone know the name?

Nothing brightens the early morning hours as much as finding somebody who can supply the name, thus qualifying the specimen for entry in the show.

New exhibitors will be introduced to the secrets of individual exhibitors, few of which will work, but all of which will continue to be tried.

There is the use of lights through the night. Unless the bud had planned to open that day, it is usually just a waste of electricity, but no exhibitor will take the chance--it just might work.

Another trick, one I have never mastered, is the art of unfolding tight iris buds without tearing the petals. I know two exhibitors, constant blue ribbon winners and well known hybridizers, who can take a ball point pen, use all 10 fingers at one time, and unfold a standard without a tear.

I tried this feat several times and my specimens looked as thought they had been used for target practice.

As the hectic morning progresses, suddenly the aroma of coffee fills the air. Thoughtful workers have prepared a huge urn, and fresh doughnuts and rolls appear.

All exhibitors must clear the building by 10 a.m., before the arrival of the judges. Most dread the return home where kitchens have been left in utter chaos. The first thing you notice upon entering is that several of the specimens left behind in tight bud are now fully open.

In a few hours, order has been restored. The cat has been allowed to come into the house. Your hair is dry and pinned up.

You've had a bath. And as you're drinking your third cup of coffee, you decide you just might go back after the judging to see if any of your specimens have won a blue ribbon.

Yes, we call this fun.

After years of competition, friendships have remained strong, and no blue ribbons can damage the bonds formed during the hours spent working elbow to elbow in the preparation rooms.

The results of flower shows are far-reaching. Visitors are made aware of new and better plant material. Some will join the ranks of hobby gardeners. Some will even become exhibitors and form friendships that will remain long after the shows are just memories.

Most exhibitors enjoy mingling with the crowd and listening to comments. An incident I recall with amusement occurred at an amaryllis show several years ago.

There is always a large section devoted to the narcissus. I had entered a specimen of the Bulbocodium Conspicuous, or Hoop Petticoat. It had won a blue ribbon and was a perfect specimen of the small species.

One woman remarked, "If I could not find anything bigger to bring to a show, I would leave it in the garden."

Another woman commented, "I wouldn't even leave it in my garden."

Of such things are flower shows made.

Do plan to visit one--or several. It will be a pleasant experience. Come at your own risk, though, because the gardening fever will be present. If you catch it, little can be done for you. It must run its course and generally persists until the age of 90.