A Transitional Time

I frequently receive requests from family, friends and customers, and from the latter for plants not listed on our sales availability. When possible I attempt to oblige. The following email came to my desk recently:

Hi Talon,

I know it is a transitional time in your life and I wish I could have chatted with you when I was there. I was very disappointed that I couldn't get a flat of Acer pal. 'Mayday' this year. I walked around the nursery when I was picking up my liner order and enjoyed seeing all of the 1 gallons you had in a few of the greenhouses behind the employee area. You had some wonderful 'Yuki yama' and I saw a few 'Pinkie' maples that didn't look too great. I can see why you are not propagating this one.

Acer palmatum 'Mayday'

I would like to ask a favor though – can you spare a flat of 'Mayday' liners? I would be happy to pay you above your normal price. My little niche in this business has always been primarily due to you and the opportunity you have given me to purchase the rare and unusual cultivars that others do not have.

I think I will be out of business in 3 years with the sale of your nursery – so I am asking for the 25 'Mayday' liners to carry me through the next two years.

Thanks for all your support and help over the years.

My response follows:

Acer palmatum 'Mayday'

Sorry we can't supply A.p. 'Mayday'. We didn't graft any a year ago because there was no quality scionwood. Our stock is very low so I doubt we'll graft any this year either. I walked through every maple greenhouse to see if we could sub with a welsh pot or 1 gallon, but we have zero at that size.

Also, the original 'Mayday' has a bad trunk and will probably be dumped this year, whenever we get time. Lack of availability has nothing to do with a “transitional time in my life.” Attempting to serve and please customers has been the proud legacy throughout my career, however I can't perform magic. Maybe it's a blessing that you can't supply 'Mayday' to your customers. A hundred years from now it won't matter to any of us anyway, although I don't plan to be around then to test that theory.

Regards, Talon Buchholz

At about the same time a columnist for the Oregon Nursery Association's magazine, plant-friend Mike Darcy, interviewed me for a “What I'm Hearing” story. I groaned at the prospect of being fodder for the publication, due to valid disappointments in the past, but I agreed to do it for Mike's sake. Even though my name was speld three different ways on the first page – not Mike's fault – the article was otherwise OK, and it helps to publicize the fact that my business is indeed up for grabs. Mike's story follows:

The last sentence implies that I can be transplanted into a new area and I'll continue to thrive. More accurately perhaps is that Old Buchholz will not be “transplanted,” but rather this old codger has been around so long that he's going to seed, and hopefully a New Buchholz will arise that will prove a vast improvement over the previous.