 I'm not a fan of mulch. In the ten years since we moved to this house, we've never had even a layer of organic compost. I constantly switch plants, sow seeds, experiment. Two inches of any kind of material over the soil complicates those activities. Moreover, I dislike "mulch gardens". Plants! I like plants! Mostly especially, I'm wary of dyed mulch. Yet, when the man knocked on our door promising to weed all our beds and lay the mulch for a reasonable price, I broke down--immediately. For almost two years, weeds had free reign in our garden. No matter how often I weed, they just keep coming. The fight has been fierce and it's only the beginning of June. To make matters worse, the temps are in the nineties now, the air thick with moisture. The dog days have arrived. There's no going back, no more cool fronts to look forward to any time soon. Last week, possibly for the first time ever, I got seriously overheated. I don't plan to do that again. I told the man, "Yes!" The two young men showed impressive work ethic. First, they hoed the beds from every angle, missing nothing. Then, using a wheelbarrow, they transported mulch from their trailer to our front and back gardens. It was a lot of work and very hot, but they worked with smiles and determination. Have I damaged my garden? I did ask about the quality of the mulch, scooped and smelled it. He assured me that it's safe. A little research told me that most dyed mulches don't really hurt flower beds or even vegetable beds, not that I would want it for the latter. Usually, the dyes are natural, if not organic. The main problem that could arise is if the wood chips come from treated wood, but that happens a lot less than it used to. I'm pretty sure we need not worry on that score. The beds are weeded, the weed seeds smothered, and although I'm not sure I would choose it again, the black mulch looks nice. Phew!
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 Hibiscus syriacus, Althea, Rose of Sharon—these names refer to the same plant and not one accurately points to its origins. Despite its Latin name Hibiscus syriacus, it’s not originally from Syria. Rose of Sharon? Nope. It’s from nowhere near the plain of Sharon in Israel. It’s native to East Asia, not the Middle East. As for Althea, way back when (who knows how far), it was confused with another member of the mallow family, Althaea officinalis. It’s generally believed that the common names have stuck because they are pretty names for a beautiful plant. By the way, it’s also called shrub althea and rose mallow, but those don’t sound nearly as romantic. Beloved as they are in the south, including southeast Texas, I never realized they might be considered invasive in some areas. I wouldn’t have planted one had I suspected that to be so. But they don’t seem to be a problem in Texas. I haven’t found a single article warning against them here. More to the point, we haven’t had a problem with ours and absolutely love it. Since they’re deciduous, I’ve been surprised to note them used as a hedge, less so to see them severely pruned. Althea are big, strong, vigorous plants, growing anywhere from six to sixteen feet tall and two to ten feet wide. Over the years, I’ve struggled with our current garden. It simply kills roses--eats them for supper, so to speak. Almost no fruit trees have survived. And due to a faulty irrigation system and flighty Head Gardener, other plants bite the dust, even turn into dust, on a fairly regular rotation. But our Althea? Despite hard freezes, irregular watering, and intense heat, it has not only survived but thrived. It is a gorgeous specimen in our garden. Hibiscus syriacus can be found in most nurseries, whether big box stores or privately owned, in lovely colors. If you’re interested in a large, hardy plant with elegant blooms, it's worth checking out.  An arctic blast swept across the southeast this week, including the greater Houston area. We covered what we could. I was mostly concerned about our cool-season vegetable garden. It had been painstakingly sowed, lovingly tended, and was growing beautifully. I still don't know what has and has not survived--it's all still covered. But that's not what this post is about. Instead, I'd like to boast on behalf of our Snow Queens, plants that not only made it through the frigid temperatures and snow but looked good doing it! Camellias! They're shaking off the snow just fine. Of course, we did plant Yuletide camellias (Camellia sasanqua 'Yuletide'). They're bred to flower in winter, but still, it's been far colder than our norm. I thought the blooms might just drop off, but nope! They don't seem the least bit disturbed by the snow. Azaleas also surprised me. I did not expect anything serious to happen to the plants, but the blooms? They'd been flowering out of season due to the mild December weather. Not all the flowers survived, but Rhododendron 'Fashion' and some of our encore azaleas sailed smoothly through the freeze. Of course, cool season annuals like snapdragons, pansies, and violas have been their usual stellar selves. It amazes me that they grow abundantly during summer in milder climates. They don't even seem to notice the freezing weather conditions. Well, at least what's showing seems to be fine. Some are completely buried under snow. Still, I have a good feeling about them. The snow this week has kept me from actively pursuing the rehaul of our welcoming garden. I've been writing instead. But next week? Who knows?
 Ever since reading Gordon Hayward's wonderful book The Welcoming Garden almost twenty years ago, I've called our front gardens just that. Problem is, I don't think our current arrangement looks particularly welcoming. It looks more like an ongoing experiment--which it is! But surely that's most gardens. Right? Bottom line, our Welcoming Garden needs work.  A few weeks ago, I began the quest in earnest, pouring over gardening books, searching Pinterest and the rest of the internet, finding nothing I felt would work in our outdoor space. Mr. Hayward's book, one of my favorites, offers timeless wisdom and practical advice that I still refer to. It's our garden I'm struggling with. Anyway, one day, indulging in a few minutes of Instagram, I happened upon a post from Linda Vater's lovely Potager Blog. Inspiration struck!  To be sure, I won't be able to replicate it exactly. For one thing, we're not on a corner. For another, I'm not sure how much I want to wrestle with our HOA. Lastly, we have large trees with hefty roots that thwart plantings. Nevertheless, I should be able to introduce a few of those elements into our little landscape.  Due to the oaks, both canopy and roots, grass struggles year-round. To be sure, I would choose native trees over grass any day. We have four live oaks in our front garden which, considering the size of the space, is four too many. Obviously, we didn't plant them. They were well-established when we bought the property. But I wouldn't remove them now, even if the HOA would allow it-- which it would not. I love trees and so does the local wildlife. Oops--as they say, I digress. The point is that while grass doesn't grow well, there are certain shrubs that might work. Do you see where, in the upper photo, there's an arc on either side of the walk at the front? I could create arcs, too, and fill them in, fill the whole space. I could experiment (that word again) with a couple of topiaries for interest. I'm not sure I would want to add deciduous shrubs, but I should consider all my options. Wouldn't a full--abundant--welcoming garden be lovely? My two favorite nurseries are almost an hour's drive from home and we're busy, so I'm not sure when I'll have the plants. But it will be soon. I'll let you know!   Happy New Year! Things are looking up for our garden. The cleanup was successful and the garden looked amazing for a few weeks. But my concern about weed seeds and even basil, sunflower, and purslane returning with a vengeance was well-founded. After all, they reigned supreme for several months. I don't like mulch, but I might have to consider using it at least in the flower beds. As for the raised vegetable beds, determination, care, and persistence are key (=weeding, weeding, and more weeding). I don't mind. At the end of the day, it's a small garden and spending time in it, especially in beautiful weather, is a joy. We've had plenty of cool, sunny, glorious days interspersed with lots of rain. Everything is staying pretty wet. The raised beds are holding up just fine, but the regular flower beds and the back garden in general are a soggy mess. For now, that simply means I have to remember not to traipse through the house in my gardening clogs/Crocs. But come spring, we'll have to monitor the situation. Perhaps we'll order a few pallets of grass. I'm pleased to report that with the exception of a single variety of lettuce, everything is coming up! A few varieties each of beets, chard, collards, cabbages, kale, and arugula, several varieties of lettuce, and, to my delight, leeks and radishes galore. I love radish greens almost as much as the radishes themselves. Leek and potato soup is one of my all-time favorites. I'm still working on a plan for the hedge. Joseph and I took out several aggressive, giant plants--roots and all, roses died, and a few ligustrums that seemed determined to rally after the deep freeze a few years ago finally succumbed. Aw, shucks, I'll have to buy a few plants. 😉 With the back garden somewhat under control, I've started appraising the front. I must say, I find it lacking. More soon!   It really wasn't so bad. In fact, I've been wanting to spend all day, every day out there ever since! Of course, I haven't. It's been raining, for one thing, and I've had plenty of other things to catch up on. Still, every semi-cleared space, every little task accomplished has been encouraging. From past experience, Joseph and I have learned that the first thing to do when restoring a garden is to reduce clutter. Pruning overgrown shrubs, pulling whatever weeds we can without too much effort, removing dead plant matter--these tasks clear the way for a more thorough thinning and cleanup. Once the worst of the overgrowth is out of the way and we can actually see the soil, it's time to get rid of anything we don't want to keep. For example, Joseph pulled the lantana and nameless salvia that crowded out the poor roses. That does not mean that they won't try to make a comeback. They probably will. But they had to go, and we'll be watching for them. We had bags and bags of cuttings, weeds, roots--everything--to haul to the curb. I wish we had space for an efficient compost pile, but we don't. We've reached a more workable level. Since the initial weeding last weekend, sunflower seedlings have popped up like crazy. The combination of fairly mild temps and alternating rain and sunshine have actually been the perfect weather to encourage them. We're going to really have to turn over the soil before amending it. That's a job for another day soon!  It was even worse than I imagined! Overgrowth? HA! The garden was ready to eat the house! Weeds? Taller than the overgrown shrubbery! The roses I worried about did succumb, covered and choked by giant plants. There were also some unexpected, unexplainable casualties.  We're talking The Secret Garden (Frances Hodson Burnett) overgrowth in a period of six weeks or so, not that it wasn't already headed in that direction. There were roses next to that lantana! Where to begin? Anywhere, really. I think certain basils can be just as bad as mint or purslane, which seems crazy since we enjoy eating all three!  Joseph and I have already launched our counterattack. Barely unpacked, both still jetlagged, and he has remnants of a cold. But this is unacceptable.
I did wonder for a moment if I even deserve to have a garden. It's not about deserving, though. It's about home and life and passion. I don't doubt that it's going to be a monumental challenge to control the weeds and weedy plants (looking at you, basil) moving forward. They enjoyed full reign and won't give up easily. But move forward, we will. I've already ordered cool season vegetable seeds. More soon! It's great to be back!  Kaleköy, Türkiye Travel... There's so much good to say about it. It opens up vistas, horizons within and outside of us. It can be fun, relaxing, re-energizing, and so much more. It can also reenforce that love of home sweet home that sometimes gets lost in the daily grind.
One more week and we'll be there--home. I miss my garden. I can hardly imagine how it's looking about now, and yet I know. It's wild, impossibly overgrown, weedy in the extreme, and doubtless not without casualties. What will I do first? The options are many. The whole thing has been needing a haircut, so to speak. Before we left, Joseph and I already agreed that some giant plants have to go. The lantana along one hedge has possibly killed the roses. It's out, along with the giant shrimp plant and mystery salvia. Weeding! It's a good thing milder temps are on the way. At least, I hope they are. I will need to don a long-sleeved shirt under my overalls to protect my arms. Poisonous plants are likely mixed in with all the weeds and overgrowth. Then, major cleanup time. Once the cleanup is done, it will be time to add organic compost and fertilizer. This year, I'm going to plant. I've been dreaming of our vegetable and herb beds. And flowers! I'm thinking big. Lots of pansies, violas, snapdragons, floxglove, and alyssum. I need to order bulbs, too. I want more, more, more! I realize that if you compare this post to ones I wrote during the summer, you might think I've lost my mind. But that's only if you're not an avid gardener. If you are, you might be thinking, "what else?" Either way, be happy for me. I'm baaack!  Breathe in... You can imagine me coughing and spluttering about now. Our garden is being taken over by weeds and giant plants. If you've been with me for a year or more, you might recall that I basically boycott the garden in July and August. It's ridiculously, insultingly hot, humid, and buggy. Late June is close enough. But even during the most uncomfortable time of the year, I can't ignore this garden completely. It's small and both the front and back are on display year round. The hedge begins to look as though it has lost its freaking mind. The east side appears to consist almost entirely of lantana. It's not supposed to. Then there's a shrimp plant and some sort of ferocious, salvia-looking plant that I can't identify battling it out in a corner. Weeds, well... One interesting note is that while seasonal annoyances are making their usual bids to take over the garden, they have a lot of competition from the giant plants as well as volunteers like basil. In our back garden, cinnamon basil is EVERYWHERE! During a storm, our one Mexican sunflower plant sort of...fell. Yes, that would be the right word. It's now hovering over the mass of basil that has taken over one of the raised vegetable beds. There were a couple of tomato plants on that side of the bed as well as some peppers. I think. But from the house and even from the patio, I can't see them. Pushing my scooter over the uneven terrain for closer inspection is not worth the risk. After two years of foot surgeries, I have two weeks left. I can wait. You know, gardening is my passion, not my husband's. Joseph enjoys the harvest and doesn't balk at big jobs like creating beds, trimming trees, and making repairs. But he doesn't love it. This past weekend, he had a long list of things to do and only so many hours to spare. Yet he gave his precious free time to the garden. He weeded the raised vegetable beds, trimmed roses, and took photos. Let me rephrase. Joseph gave up his precious free time to work under the broiling sun for me. Sigh. My hero. I might have to copy this post to my romance blog. |
Our GardenFor years, my husband and I worked at creating a series of gardens on our four-acre lot in a rural, Texas subdivision west of Houston. I have to say, it was a fantastic experience. Now, I have a pocket garden on a golf course. Archives
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