 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?
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 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.  Isn't that spectacular? Tiger lilies -- Lilium lancefolium or Lilium tigrenum -- absolutely earn their place in the garden. These babies don't have a scent, but even to me -- I've planted fragrant herbs all over the place -- their striking beauty is worth any space we can afford them. One of my bad gardening habits is that I'm really terrible about popping bulbs into the garden without noting the location. It becomes a problem when I plant something right in the middle of some bulbs. Towards the end of last year, I found I had to dig up more than twenty bulbs while trying to balance out the garden with some year-round greenery. Surprise! These weren't all in one place. While I had no doubt that I was the one who had purchased and planted the bulbs, I no longer recalled what kind of bulbs they were. If I knew, I wouldn't have planted the tiger lilies in front of a curbside bed. They're beautiful, but they're too tall and spindly to be at the front of a bed. I will move them again once their season is over. Let that be a lesson to you -- I mean me! Native to Asia, these plants aren't invasive and add an interesting splash of color in the garden. What to expect from them: In mild climates, they bloom mid to late summer. They only bloom once a year, but each plant can have as many as ten flowers. They are not tender or picky plants, but they have their preferences. For best performance, they need moist, well-draining soil, sunshine, and some protection from afternoon sun. They're not known to be particularly aggressive, but they will multiply. They usually grow between two to five feet tall. So, our curbside beds face south and are generally dry. I could not have chosen a worse place to plunk down those jewels! But now that I know firsthand how gorgeous they are, I will probably add more to the garden. I'll find some area to plant them all together. Won't I? Of course I will! Happy Gardening!  Hello from hot, soggy southeast Texas! Wow, have we had lots of rain! Not that I would go outside, anyway. I have graduated from a giant, protective splint to a cast, but I'm not overly confident about my left leg/foot leading. Moreover, between heat, storms, and bugs, I'm not overly tempted to venture out on my own, either. It's a boon when wildlife comes to me! I love birds, and I find backyard wildlife charming. I was thrilled to see this heron right out our window, strutting along the fence. He's a Yellow-Crowned Night Heron. I had to look him up, convinced he was a rare sight. While he's uncommonly handsome -- I say "he" because he looks to me to be wearing a suit -- he's not an uncommon bird in our southeastern states. Driving me to get my cast, Joseph pointed out several in fields along the way. In fact, we saw so many that we were laughing about it long before the drive was over. So again, not rare, but certainly handsome. And good news! Joseph gave in and allowed the doves to roost! It's not as though we will be lounging around on the patio. When it's not storming (as it has been for much of the past several weeks), it's unpleasantly hot and buggy. Also, I might have mentioned how much I enjoyed watching them from the window since my movements are limited, but only in passing. I've also been requesting garden photos between thunderstorms and floods. I never said I am easy to live with! I miss my garden, but it's there, keeping me company.  Tagetes lucida aka Texas Tarragon Usually, when I think of an herb garden, I have visions of lovely knot gardens, an expansive kitchen garden, and sometimes I even see with my mind's eye a medieval monk carefully tending a small plot of land. Different scenarios, yes, but always a specific patch, box, or space. Except where my own garden is concerned. When I say "my herb garden" or "our herb garden", I'm referring to all the herbs growing out there as a collective. They're growing in almost all the raised beds, in pots, and directly in the ground, along the back hedge, and in the welcoming garden. They're all over the place and I couldn't be happier. What can I say? I love herbs. I love their fragrance, their usefulness, their history, and their wild beauty. "Wild", you may ask? I think it's the right word. Widely-cultivated as they are, many of our favorite culinary herbs grow abundantly in the wild. Mediterranean herbs like lavender, basil, oregano, and rosemary thrive in the dry summers of the Mediterranean coast. They don't like humid conditions. While parts of Texas are dry, southeast Texas is humid year-round. Very humid. All the same, the herbs soldier on. For the most part, well-draining soil and a sunny, open location make these tough plants happy enough. As of now, our herb garden boasts zataar, marjoram, a few different thymes, a few different basils, culinary sage, and plenty of other sages. There's lemon grass, anise hyssop, lavender, and rosemary, Apple mint is barely contained in a large, raised box. Speaking of barely contained, one variety of basil is coming up everywhere this year. I think it might be Cinnamon Basil? I'll certainly transplant a few, but we will likely have to pull a great many. For now, I don't mind it any more than I mind purslane. Purslane, by the way, might be considered a weed by lots of gardeners and even more non-gardeners. But it's an herb and a superfood, rich in omega-3, and delicious in salads. It will attempt to blanket our raised beds throughout the warm season. We'll fight our traditional losing battle against its domination. But as long as it doesn't choke out anything -- and it usually doesn't -- we'll also leave much of it alone. It's just easier that way. It's actually a very efficient green mulch. It's not even May yet, of course. July will look very different! Ha. I really can't stress that enough. For now, I'm going to hang onto the dazzling image of our garden overflowing with flowers and edibles! Happy Gardening! |
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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