Playin' Outside

January Summer Olympics in Texas

2012-01-31T21:57:00.000-08:00

No, it isn't a typo - it's just Iris germanica 'Summer Olympics' behaving as though it's already spring rather than January. With the recent rains and mild temperatures, I'm afraid my entire garden will be seduced into this irrational behavior only to be smacked down by a late freeze or two. Such is gardening in Central Texas.

The foliage of this gaura has usually frozen to the ground by now. Not this year. Instead it's putting on a show and feeding the occasional bee.

Only this single bloom has appeared recently on the coral honeysuckle, but the foliage has remained thick enough to provide a hiding place for anoles, opposum, and neighborhood cats. Normally the foliage thins out quite a bit over the winter, sometimes even dying back to the ground. The local wildlife seem to appreciate the warmth generated by the sun heated water in the rainwater tank underneath it, even if they may not like the company they encounter.

This milkweed (Asclepias) is covered with its usual "crop" of aphids. Although it's in a container and we have had a couple of nights dip below freezing, for some reason it refuses to die back as it usually does. The temperature must not have remained below freezing long enough to do its damage.

The cinnamon basil even has new buds on last year's stems and hundreds of little seedlings coming up under the leaf litter.

Oh well. "Da Boyz" and I are just enjoying the mild weather while it lasts because tomorrow could bring an ice storm or 80 degree temperatures. We just never know.

Was it a swarm, flutter, kaleidoscope, or rabble?

2011-10-14T16:53:00.000-07:00

It's one of those times you immediately want to tell everyone you know what just happened ...

This afternoon, I came home from work and headed into the back yard with the dogs. As they rushed out, a cloud of butterflies was flushed up into the air and surrounding yards. I know that I'm capable of hyperbole, but this was truly a CLOUD of hundreds, maybe more than a thousand, butterflies.

So why don't I have pictures of more than a few butterflies?

Because I have two dogs with waterfowl retrieval in their DNA, and they didn't come packaged with a stealth setting. They ran happily about, effectively scattering my little miracle to the winds while I dashed back into the house for the camera. And the remaining few who were too tired to scatter still had enough adrenaline to dash off when I got close with the camera. (Do butterflies have adrenaline?) These guys must've flown the farthest because they were too tired to move.

Anyway, I got to see it and that's a fairly amazing way to end my day.

My Dad's Sense of Humor

2011-07-27T13:32:00.000-07:00

Just returned from 4 days at the Seattle Fling, each jam-packed with garden blogger friendship and tours of amazing gardens. It'll take several days to sift through all those pixels! So instead of photos and Fling memories, all I'm sharing today is a little gardening humor from my dad. We all show love the best way we can.

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty sad because it looks like I won't be able to plant my

tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden

plot. I know if you were here you'd

be happy to dig the plot for me like in the old days.

Love,

Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Pop,

Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.

Love,

Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the

circumstances.

Love you,

Vinnie

Bloom Day

2011-05-14T21:39:00.000-07:00

Seems like spring offers a gardener a lot of excuses. Not only is there a long list of things to be done in our own gardens, for master gardeners, there's a flood of teachable moments in a community under the influence of spring fever. A surprisingly cool day, the first rain we've received in nearly 7 months, and Carol's Garden Bloggers Bloom Day gave me more excuses - simply to be still and focus on the details at home that make my heart smile.

These 'Bling Bling' zinnias and 'Music Box' kneehigh sunflowers are grown from Renee's Garden seeds. This is the first year I've intentionally planted a "cutting garden" at the back of my vegetable bed. Usually I grow sunflowers there for the Great Sunflower Project (a bee counting program), but these were selfishly planted just for me, me, me.

This is a terrible picture of a native butterfly bush. It was started from a cutting snipped in San Antonio.

'Peter's Purple' monarda in its full glory. This came from the Native Plant Center at SFA in Nacogdoches, TX, and weathered our sustained freezing temps over two winters and abysmal heat in the summer.

Salvia guaranitica 'Black and Blue' - a favorite of the wonderful black bumblebees I very much want to keep healthy and returning every year.

Dancing garlic scapes. Hardneck garlic doesn't love our southern heat but still puts on a show and manages to produce some fiery garlic.

'Senorita Rosalita' cleome was finally added this year after Pam at Digging field tested it for us and gave it a green thumbs up.

Stachys coccinea aka Texas betony growing with Thai peppers at the base of my new pear tree.

Heartleaf skullcap in its full glory just before it goes dormant from the heat (any day now.)

Anise hyssop (above) and borage (below) are both bee favorites just starting to strut their flower wares.

Cedar sage (Salvia roemeriana) reliably blooming in its shady bed.

One of the simple "ditch lilies", or common orange daylilies (above) and Asclepias or butterfly weed (below) proving there's nothing common about anything bright orange.

Persicaria 'Red Dragon' is quickly becoming my favorite shade plant for its colorful foliage and remarkable ability to fill in quickly after freezing to the ground each winter. The frothy white blooms are simply an unexpected pleasure.

A good image of this spidery bloom was impossible to capture, but equally impossible not to share with you. It appeared at the top of a 6 foot stem in the center of a Manfreda undulata 'Chocolate Chip' given to me as a pitiful looking pup just last fall. What a comeback! Thank you Eleanor for sharing this great plant with several of us.

Another shade plant that's done well for me is Cestrum. The red variety didn't do as well, but the yellow couldn't be happier. I'm told the leaves have a wet-dog smell when crushed, but my dogs disagree.

And finally, one of the giant leeks (sometimes called elephant garlic) given to me by Greg Grant. It came from Greg's grandmother's East Texas homestead that he's restoring. Here they grow in the midst of larkspur that came from MSS at Zanthan Gardens. Some of my very favorite things in life are the meaningful connections to friends represented by "passalong plants" from their gardens. Hope you enjoyed the quick visit this Bloom Day.

The Texas Dip - Garden Style

2011-02-04T08:03:00.000-08:00

In Texas, we have something called the Texas Dip. Google it for your entertainment, but basically it's a curtsy unique to Texas debutantes. It's also a fairly accurate way to describe the central Texas relationship with freezing temperatures. We flirt, approach, and occasionally "dip" into them, but rarely sink and stay down. So, it is with increasing dismay that I watch the thermometer reach 17°F and fail to regain its footing on a cold but just above freezing norm. I know a lot of our garden blogger friends are used to this - and that their experience over the past week of this winter's record breaking storm has been so much harsher than we've seen in Austin. But we don't plan(t) for this. I mean, does anyone in Austin think they're going to need a pond de-icer?

MSS at Zanthan Gardens tweeted earlier this week about her frozen pipes, and it's a good bet a lot more of us will find out we've joined her as the temperatures climb and our previously frozen pipes leak their unpleasant surprises into our walls and yards. I also heard that friends who keep "backyard chickens" are using their heat mats to keep the water bowls from freezing - move over tomato seedlings! My own garden looks pretty dismal - even supposedly "cold season plants" like parsley and antique roses look damaged. It makes me tired just thinking about it. I'd sit down and rest if I could only find the bench...

An Exceptional Guest

2010-07-06T20:53:00.001-07:00

This year’s 4th of July holiday included a welcome extra day off, giving me time for a few garden “chores”. I just replaced a blade on one of my Felco pruners and was testing them out on the coral honeysuckle that grows around my rain tank. An odd leaf attracted my attention … do you see it?

It’s a Eumorpha pandorus, also known as a Pandora Sphinx moth or camouflage moth. Here’s a peek at the underside, too.

In my garden, 2010’s been a great year for Lepidoptera, especially giant swallowtails. But this?!! WOW. I have no idea where it came from or how I happened to see it, but it was certainly an honored guest.

Anyone see these regularly in their garden or know their migration route?

And the winner is ...

2010-02-27T17:44:00.000-08:00

Does your garden have a signal of spring? The first flower to bloom or tree to bud out? In my little garden, it's often the "Homestead Purple" verbena or the occasional brave iris.

This year the winner is an Avalanche narcissus (also called Seven Sisters) that just joined my motley crew last fall even though it's been cultivated in this country since the 1700's.

There was a "Feedback" iris in the race, but it couldn't quite get opened in time to claim the lead.

And as much as I appreciate the color it brings to the garden, my flowering quince is a dependable late winter bloomer so I don't really think of it as heralding spring.

Like a lot of other Austin gardeners, I'm grateful for any plants that have managed to survive a broiling hot, dry summer followed by a winter full of snow and sustained freezes. All of the "antique" roses are happily putting out new growth, and most of the herbs appear to wonder what all the fuss is about. I'm hoping the five Amarcrinum bulbs that were also planted last fall make it. Three times they began to put out green shoots only to be slapped down by a hard freeze. This one just keeps trying, but the others look like they've given up. Oh well, what's a garden but a lesson in gratitude, resilience, and flexibility?

Pond Ice Pearls and Winter Blackberries

2010-01-08T19:51:00.000-08:00

We saw temps in the low 20's last night, leaving this string of ice "pearls" on one of my pond plants. They're telling us to expect something between 7 and 17 degrees tonight.

It also made my thornless blackberries' leaves turn this lovely red.

Maybe not your typical winter wonderland, but a nice change as long as it doesn't last too long and we don't have to drive on ice. That's not a skill many central Texans have mastered.

Montgomery Co Master Gardeners

2009-11-09T08:01:00.000-08:00

Just returned from a Propagation Specialist training in Montgomery County and wanted to add my voice to the crowd singing the praises of the Montgomery County Master Gardeners. They really set a high standard for the rest of us by installing and maintaining an amazing variety of demo gardens - floral, fruit, butterfly, xeriscape, bog and pond - and in their "spare time" they've raised the money for and installed a huge multipurpose building for their Extension office. They even have real china cups for the coffee! Talk about attention to detail...

If you have reason to be in the Houston/Woodlands area - it's worth the drive to Conroe to see what can be accomplished with a big dream, hard work and a team spirit. Of course, it doesn't hurt to have Tom LeRoy as coach/Extension agent.

Bloom Day 03.09

2009-03-14T15:51:00.000-07:00

Yellow bulbine, Asian ground orchids, and a Pat Austin rose are three of the shows currently appearing in my garden.

But, what I'm really excited to tell you about are these irises...

My husband and I rescued these last year after I noticed a familiar crown shape off to the side of the road. I joked then that being moved from blazing sun and neglect in a former pasture to a place of honor in well amended soil and constant attention in my garden would probably kill them. Instead, they've quadrupled in size and rewarded us with the most interesting blooms. Many of them have petals that are exactly one half purple and one half white. I've started calling it Night and Day, both for the change in their growing conditions and for their unique coloring.

Another interesting iris blooming right now is one that develops absolutely NO stem. It's hard to capture in a picture, but here's my best effort. The blooms are silvery white with a small amount of purple deep inside. I've looked everywhere to find if it's symptomatic of a disease, but everything just says that some dwarf varieties don't form a stem.

This peachy one is a pass-along plant, so I don't have the actual name. It has enough brown in it that I call it Peach Tea. The beautiful peach iris I got from Annie in Austin (of the Transplantable Rose blog) hasn't bloomed yet, but it's planted nearby looking promising.

These white irises were in a group of unmarked plants being sold for next to nothing because no one knew what variety or color they were. The antique roses and salvia guaranitica "Black and Blue" behind them haven't really come to life yet, and the spots of white on tall stems really brighten up that bed. Just in front of these white irises are the purple verbena canadensis "Homestead Purple" that are usually one of the first things to bloom in the garden. This year they were beaten to the punch by several irises and the Old Blush rose.

Here's Old Blush - my nominee for hardest working rose in the garden. It has so many blooms, its stems just faint under the weight.

I once overheard other members of the Austin Iris Society talking about silly people who try to grow irises and roses in the same bed. They must not have been talking about Earthkind or antique roses, because my irises seem very happy growing among them. They're all in raised beds, receive full to part sun, and require very little water or fussing. This one is called "Royal Knight", and it's done surprisingly well with morning sun only.

Scattered among the white irises are poppies and the larkspur seedlings that are coming up all over my garden thanks to the seeds MSS of Zanthan Garden gave me. The poppies weren't quite ready for bloom day, but I decided to give you a preview.

The Martha Gonzales rose in that bed is blooming fairly well, but the Marie Pavie, Old Gay Hill, Lindee, and Franziska Krueger have just produced single bloom previews of what is to come.

Martha Gonzales (right) and Franziska Krueger (below)

Marie Pavie (right) is the most fragrant rose in my garden, making up for its demure blooms. When in full bloom, it scents the entire back yard.

Also on that side of the garden is the Tulipa Clusiana "Cynthia" that I discussed in my previous post. Here's another picture. They began to bloom March 8th, and are still at it.

Of the approximately 15 varieties of salvia in my garden, the salvia Greggii was probably my least favorite until I started trying to kill it by cutting it to the ground every year. It got bushier and prettier, and now blooms heavily in a lovely fuschia color. It also seems to have absolutely no pests.

Moving to another area, the Loropetalum chinense "fringe flower" is still blooming, but I didn't take another picture to leave room for the new additions. Demonstrating favoritism, however, Marilyn's Choice abutilon blooms all year, and I still couldn't resist giving you another look.

Keeping the Marilyn's Choice abutilon company are Gregg's Mistflower (Eupatorium greggii), pink Texas rock roses (Pavonia lasiopetala), yellow cestrum (Cestrum elegans), and two colors of shrimp plant (Justicia brandegeana). The abutilon and chartreuse/pink shrimp are the only two in bloom right now.

This rose is called "Colleen's Climber". It's a found rose named after my friend, Colleen Belk. Those of you in Austin may know her from her many years at Barton Springs Nursery, one of the best in our area in part due to her hard work.

Orange Bulbine isn't producing flowers right now as well as the yellow variety, but both are blooming. Yellow is pictured at the beginning of this post, and here's the orange.

A new type of lavender I'm trying this year is called "Blueberry Ruffles", a lavandula cultivar. It's supposed to have early and repeat flowering, with very fragrant large flower spikes. This teeny bloom may not look like much, but none of my other lavenders has produced any flowers at all this spring.

Moving toward the other side of the house, Old Blush, Lady Banks and Cecille Brunner roses are all in bloom.

Lady Banks (left)

Cecille Bruner (right) started from a 4" cutting two years ago.

The snow peas are still producing flowers and peas.

Usually the wisteria threatens to take over its side of the yard, but this time of year it seems fairly tame. Its clusters are just beginning to open and the branches are still bare.

In the front yard, the only things blooming right now are the white spirea, a Mutabilis rose, and a yellow columbine called "Hinckley's" (Aquilegia hinckleyana).

When looking for the botanical name for the spirea, I found lots of websites saying it should be blooming in June and that it has low tolerance to drought and restricted water conditions. Mine defies such thinking, blooming like crazy as soon as the weather warms consistently above freezing (usually late February to mid-March) and flourishing without supplemental watering.

I realized I also have purple spiderwort, asparagus, and a succulent named "Ghost" in bloom but didn't get their pictures. In the greenhouse, a miniature yellow rose and several of the scented geraniums are blooming. There may have to be an addendum in a couple of days for all the things that were overlooked. It's great to have so much going on out there!

Hinckley's columbine (left) and Mutabilis rose (below). The Mutabilis is covered with blooms of pale pink, coral, peach, and fuschia fluttering like its namesake butterflies.

I also have another yellow columbine, locally called "Hot Mama" that has larger blooms but contrary to her name isn't showing her goods yet.

Once again, I thank Carol of May Dreams Gardens for inspiring me to look more closely at the beauty in my own back yard. I hope you enjoyed the visit.

Tulipa Clusiana is Back!

2009-03-11T18:04:00.000-07:00

Just had to share these with you. There's a lot happening in my garden, but I'm saving most of it for Bloom Day. These old friends surprised me on Sunday, March 8th, but I'm just getting around to showing them off.

I didn't know you could get a tulip to naturalize in our heat and horrible excuse for soil until a friend at Barton Springs Nursery introduced me to Tulipa clusiana "Cynthia" several years ago. I was charmed by the idea of having these delicate beauties popping up each spring, and even happier they share the name of my oldest stepdaughter. Even if there were other tulips that could be happy here, I'd still grow these for the dark pink on the outsides of their sunny lemon yellow petals. I'm told they're originally from Uzbekistan - who'd have thought our climate would support their natives?! But, they happily signal spring each year just at that time Austin gardeners are trying to guess if it's going to be in the 80's or freezing tomorrow.

I'm also a sucker for their grey foliage which is completely hidden in this picture because they're peeking up through the foliage of a Peggy Martin rose. The bladelike foliage you see is narcissus tazetta.

Be sure to pop back by on the 15th for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day - I've got a lot of plants promising to put on a show.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance ...

2009-03-05T18:25:00.000-08:00

Knowing this day was coming hasn't softened the blow nor has it prepared me with the right words. It's been my preference to just get through emotional events, then to use words later to reflect back when I've established the necessary distance and objectivity. I'm breaking with tradition today because we've all lost a treasure and I need somewhere to go with the feelings.

Madalene Hill passed away yesterday at the early age of 95. "Early" because she seemed immortal to me and because I don't know what we'll do without her. "Early" because she always had more energy than anyone else in the room. "Early" because I'm not ready to let her go.

My husband says that when I mention Madalene in my writing, I always say her name as though everyone on the planet automatically knows who I'm talking about - like "God" or "Elvis". And I always answer that they do. Anyone who knows much about herbs does, and they're who I'm really talking to now.

Do you remember the exact day you first discovered a passion for something? Something you thought you could make your life's work? I do. It was in a cooking class being taught by Madalene and her daughter, Gwen, in Houston in the early 70's. Although already working in restaurants, I hadn't really decided what to be when I grew up. That night Madalene said something like "Herbs are the thin thread that links you to your ancestors no matter what part of the world they came from." For someone looking for connections, family, and my place in the world, those were powerful words. A lot of firsts in my life occurred in her presence, a lot of lightbulbs went off. And after all of these years, it's just too hard to imagine her gone.

There's one memory I'd like to share. I was the general manager of Hilltop Herb Farm in Cleveland, Texas, working on opening the new one in Houston. If you don't know about the original Farm in Cleveland, it was a true destination location. People would drive the two hours or more from Houston and other cities to this place out in the piney woods of East Texas, down a two lane country road with no streetlights, to the middle of absolute nowhere. A turn onto a dirt drive would land you by an enormous greenhouse where a prix fixe dinner centered around culinary herbs was served on Friday and Saturday evenings.

This particular Friday evening in 1983 seemed like the others. A "little weather" seemed to be blowing in, but the staff was in the kitchen finishing the meal preparation as Madalene greeted arriving guests. One arrived at the main entrance to the greenhouse in a wheelchair, about the time a tornado also made a surprise appearance. With Madalene holding onto the guest with one hand and holding firm to the wooden doorframe with the other, they rode out the tornado right there in the door. The wreckage of the greenhouse was strewn about them, but there they were. You can see why I might think of her as indestructible. To give you an idea of the devastation that night, it took several hours to clear an exit back to the road, and several more before we could even think of leaving. Friends of the Farm returned the next day to do what we could, but it was a crippling blow.

Years ago I lost another friend too early - Warren Skaaren. When he died, I eventually realized that all we can do to get through the loss and to honor them is try to cultivate in our selves more of the traits we loved in them. With Warren, it was humility and a generosity of spirit. With Madalene, I don't know where to start.

This post started with Ophelia's line from Shakespeare's Hamlet: "There rosemary, that's for remembrance..." It continues "pray, love, remember..."

I know we will.

(Latest update is that there will be a memorial service for Madalene on March 22nd, at 2 p.m. in the beautiful Concert Hall on the grounds of the Festival Institute in Round Top.)

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day

2009-02-14T21:52:00.000-08:00

In the three years Carol at May Dreams Garden has been hosting Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, this is the first time I've managed to take pictures and get them posted in time. When I first heard of it, I had the impression it only happened once a year; but eventually I caught on that the fun happens every single month. So welcome ... here's what's putting on a show in my Zone 8 garden in Austin. Thanks for stopping by. That's a red shrimp plant to the left. I think the frost damage makes it look like chintz.

Frost damaged, but still covered with blooms and reddish new growth - "Old Blush" rose.

Bulbine frutescens, yellow (above) and orange varieties (below)

Meyer lemon getting a start on this year's Meyer Lemon Ginger Marmalade.

Fringe Flower (Loropetalum chinense)

German Iris "Feedback" with MSS' larkspur seedlings in background.

Chandler variety strawberries - here in Austin, we plant our berry plants in the fall for a full crop the following spring and summer. These guys have been blooming a little off and on all winter, reflecting how crazy our cold/hot cycle is with 80 degrees and freezing weather in the same week.

In the greenhouse, the pelargoniums (scented geraniums) are putting on their dainty blooms. This is an apple scented one.

This abutilon has the common name of "Marilyn's Choice" and mine looks like this all year. If anyone has the botanical name of this variety, please let me know.

That's all that's blooming today, but the garden was full of promise as I was snooping around for blooms. Thanks, Carol, for getting me back outside.

Wow ... it's really happening!

2009-02-04T13:41:00.000-08:00

Just made my hotel reservation for this year's Spring Fling to be held in Chicago and had a few thoughts that actually apply to the bigger picture:

1. It's possible to trust other people to get things done - at the first Spring Fling in Austin, the Chicago gardeners were telling us that we'd be gathering "next year in Chicago". Honestly, it was hard to imagine they'd go home and not get so busy gardening and being regular folks that it wouldn't slide to the bottom of the "to do" list.

2. Sometimes others do a better job than I ever might have done - This is probably something I should engrave on a metal disc and wear around my neck. I mean, just look at the Chicago Spring Fling website! They have a logo, and hotel info, and links, and lions and tigers (well, okay, no lions and tigers but there IS a borzoi!)

3. There are people you just met (last year or last week) but feel you've known your whole life and your life is actually better for knowing them - whether it's our common interests or what we learn about each other by reading blogs, I don't know. But, in these times when so much talk is about what's wrong with everything from the economy to politics to the taste of tomatoes, it's refreshing to remember the world is full of things and relationships that are absolute perfection . Without exception, the Spring Flingers are amazing people with talent, people I'm proud to call friends, people I want to hate because their gardens are so much better than mine. See for yourself - visit every link over there on the right under "Their sites are prettier than mine" and go to Chicago Gardeners at blogspot dot com. There's worse ways to spend your time.

Worms and Great Writing

2008-08-12T18:16:00.000-07:00

You're right, no matter how many times you read that title, it still won't make sense. Those two concepts, "worms" and "great writing", just spar with each other. And that, dear reader, is exactly the problem I've been having. Reading other Spring Flingers' blogs has given me serious performance anxiety; but after months of stalling, it's time to talk about vermiculture - the proper term for worm composting. Guess I'll stick to what I know and leave the great writing for the pros.

The best primer on this subject is probably "Worms Eat My Garbage" by the late Mary Appelhof. She started writing in the 70's about her experiences with vermiculture, and the company she founded is a dependable source of worms, worm bin supplies, and information. No doubt, even a slight interest in vermiculture has led you to the internet and that site. Her book is widely available at bookstores and organic gardening centers, as well as online. It's a great place to start if you're considering keeping a vermiculture bin.

Started with a few worms given to me by a friend, my bin exists primarily to teach me about the subject. Let your reason for having a bin help determine the size container you choose. Obviously, if you're serious about using vermiculture to handle all of your kitchen scraps, it will need to start on a larger scale. Take the plunge and order a pound of worms to start. It took nearly a year for my small handful of worms to multiply to the point that they even needed the 5 gallons of space I initially gave them. The scraps I offered seemed to sit for weeks and I'd about decided the worms had all died. But once they took off, they really took off. Now, I'm about to move them into a 40 gallon bin. So, here's what the past year in worms has looked like.

As soon as I got them home, I went to work preparing the bin. They need air, darkness, food, and moisture (but not too much water.) If you order your worms, you'll have time to get the bin ready before they arrive. But mine were a bit of an impulse, so I had to work fast.

First, I drilled small air holes in the lid and all around the top third of the container. I hoped the holes would be big enough to provide air circulation but small enough to prevent escape. Some people cover the holes with fine screen, but that hasn't proved necessary. Either the holes were the right size, or my worms are nice and fat.

The first time you prepare bedding for your worms, you can shred newspaper to create a 8 to 10 inch layer. Lightly cover the paper with a thin layer of sand or garden soil, mix in with the paper, then use a spray bottle to dampen the bedding. You want it barely damp, but not wet. Put your worms in the bin and give them some time to burrow down - about 30 minutes. Sprinkle the bedding with chopped up food scraps and place a piece of cardboard loosely on the surface. The cardboard seems to encourage the worms back up to the surface to eat the scraps (and the cardboard.) Replace the lid on the container and give your worms at least a week to settle in before you start peeking in on them constantly to see if they've multiplied yet.

The picture at right shows an active bin where the worms are processing newspaper, food scraps, and eggshells. They've also eaten the cardboard cover.

Worms eventually eat about half their weight in scraps each day, but you do have to work up to that amount. (Being a former chef, I had to fight my impulse to feed them constantly.) When there is very little of the original bedding visible, and the bin contents are brown and "earthy" looking, you know your bin is working. Feed small amounts until you see evidence of your worms breaking down the scraps. Many people rotate placement of scraps in their bins so the scraps remain undisturbed until broken down by the worms. I mentally divide my small bin into eighths and rotate through the sections. Scraps should be chopped or shredded, and eggshells crushed. Tea leaves and coffee grounds, shredded paper towels and coffee filters, grains, and vegetable scraps are just some of the things your worms will consume. If it seems too wet, you can add more dry material such as shredded newspaper, crushed leaves, or dry soil. Avoid meat, dairy, and large amounts of fat. If you're already composting outside, most of the same guidelines apply. However, unlike outside composting, some of the problems you may encounter are overfeeding, too much moisture, and temperature. Vermiculture bins should be stored in temperatures above 40 degrees and less than 85 degrees F. In Texas, this generally means in a sheltered area out of direct sun.

Look closely - in the picture above you'll see where the air holes were drilled in the top portion of the bin.

It's a little odd to talk about what the worms "like", but mine seem to thrive when I add an occasional layer of moistened coir. It comes in dried bricks which must be soaked and broken apart and is available where hydroponic gardening supplies are sold.

If the surface layer of the bin is covered with food scraps, I'll often completely cover the entire surface with shredded newspaper or moistened and shredded coir. Also, as I mentioned before, they really seem to be more actively eating and reproducing when the surface is lightly covered with a piece of cardboard as well as putting the lid on the bin.

This is the finished product - compost ready to put in the garden and even more worms ready to go back to work in the bin. Various methods are used to separate out the worms. Although they will often clump together near the bottom of the bin, I generally put on a pair of gloves and gently spread the bin contents out on several layers of newspaper. When I've separated as many worms as possible, I put them back into the bin and the process starts all over again.

It's hard to imagine, but there's really very little ick factor to vermiculture. It's a good option for apartment dwellers, offices with kitchens, and other places that generate food scraps but don't have the option of an outdoor compost pile. Properly maintained, they don't stink or attract flies and other unwanted pests. Gather your courage and give it a try.

(Lori asked the questions you probably have at this point - check out the comments.)

"Plastics"

2008-05-19T16:49:00.000-07:00

1967 brought us "The Graduate" and the movie quote voted #42 (out of 100) by the American Film Institute. "Plastics" is also a line that's been running through my head a lot lately when I've been playin' outside. In spite of my love of rocks, wood, and other things organic, I've noticed a number of plastic items have become workhorses in our little garden.

This is my plastic "Trifecta": the greenhouse, rain tank, and some GrowBoxes.

Probably best known to anyone reading this blog is the big green rain collection tank. Made of polypropylene and piped with PVC, it's undeniably a big plastic statement. Of course the lovely rock, mortar and wood cisterns we've seen at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center or in the James David garden would be preferred for their aesthetic appeal. But our big plastic tank is doing its job well and would be much easier to pack up and move if needed. What's more important - avoiding something made from petrochemicals or collecting rainwater? It seems so many of our choices are complicated.

Less obvious, but essential in my world, is the heavy plastic liner of the pond. Rugged but flexible enough to follow the shape we dug in the hard clay, it allowed us to completely change the way our garden looks and feels, and the way we feel about being outside.

Probably my least attractive plastic garden components are the "Grow Boxes". Initially, I was attracted to the possibilities these self-watering containers offered in making gardening accessible to school children. The boxes are inexpensive to construct, can be broken down at the end of the growing season or school year, and allow kids a way to learn about the source of their food, butterfly gardens, or just the magic of a seed transforming itself to a plant.

Here they are last winter lined up in front of the greenhouse that's made of PVC and heavy mil plastic sheeting with its fiberglass shade cloth.

As I used them, I also found out how convenient it is to be able to leave on vacation and know the tomatoes won't die for lack of water. It's also an easy way to keep food crops out of the "reach" of two large male dogs when they lift their legs.

The funny thing is how much I've learned to appreciate them through the process of teaching people how to make them. Folks are always telling me how much they like them and why. Number one reason for most is that someone with no yard or depth of soil can grow homegrown tomatoes and other vegetables. Older folks enjoy gardening at an elevated height, and that there's no need for hoeing or heavy work involved in gardening with them - just planting and dragging the occasional (plastic) hose over for adding water to the reservoir. With so many advantages, should they be avoided because they're fairly "tacky" and again, made from a petrochemical product? If a child develops a love of nature or a better diet and appreciation for vegetables because a teacher grew something in a GrowBox for the class one year, does that benefit outweigh the negatives?

Also built from a plastic storage bin is my vermiculture (that's worm composting) bin.

Although it took a while to really get going, now I'm wishing it were bigger. Guess I'll just have to build another one. Does it being made of plastic negate the act of composting?

As I've mentioned, many of my plants were grown from cuttings gathered from friends. My success with propagation increased dramatically when I began using cut off soda bottles to increase the humidity for the cuttings. (Since cuttings have no roots, at that point all moisture must be taken in through the leaves.) I couldn't begin to afford enough of the lovely glass cloches traditionally used for this purpose - especially when it's time to prune the roses and I find it impossible to waste all of those potential rose plants. Then it's not unusual for us to have as many as 25 "test tubes", as my husband likes to call them. The primary downside to these is that I've been seen scouting my neighborhood recycling bins since we don't even empty 4 soda bottles a year.

On one of those dog walking/scouting trips, I found two large plastic pots that were being thrown away. They now house the Meyer lemon and a Mexican lime.

The newest plastic additions are the raised bed corner supports I just used to build 3 vegetable beds in a sunny side strip of our yard. Even though I could have constructed simple raised beds without them, they made the project even simpler and offered angles that would have complicated the process by hours. It was during the building of the beds that now famous single word of dialogue from The Graduate began repeating in my mind.

So, give me some feedback: other than the little nursery pots and trays we bring plants home in, what are the ways you're using plastic in your garden? Please tell me I'm not alone in this dirty little secret.

900 and Counting

2008-04-28T18:26:00.000-07:00

Amid threats of tornadoes, lightening strikes, and hail, we got about an inch of rain over the past few days. From that ... drum roll please ... we managed to collect about 900 gallons of cloud juice. * The gutters and pipes to the rainwater tank didn't sag or leak (not that we expected them to), the water went where we wanted it, and as an added bonus, we didn't get hit by the hail.

Also, as I was saying to MSS at Zanthan Gardens, now we understand what a friend meant when he said, "Oh, you got the small one!" when he saw our 1660 gallon tank. This is addictive! The clouds give us a little free and we're hooked. Given that Austin averages 32 to 36 inches of rain per year, however, our little lot doesn't have enough room for tanks to catch all of it. Herein lies the dilemma of the suburban rainwater harvester. In most areas, rainfall occurs seasonally. Many of us don't have room for enough storage to catch the entire rainy season harvest and be able to last through times of drought. When we decided to install our tank, I had no idea that not only would I learn how to install the system, I'd also get a lesson in being content with the difference this amount of capture will make. My current plan is to make a pitcher of Texas Martinis, go sit by the pond, listen to the waterfall splashing, and practice being content.

*To figure how much you'd collect, you need to know that one inch of rain on a 1000 sq. foot catchment area yields roughly 600 gallons. We aren't using our full (oddly shaped, irregular) roof surface and had to guess at our total catchment area. One of the best free sources of information on rainwater harvesting in Texas, including average annual rainfall, is The Texas Manual on Rainwater Harvesting (do an online search and the entire manual can be downloaded at no cost.)

The Choice

2008-04-20T10:06:00.000-07:00

My husband has no idea, but he's about to be very happy that Tim was "right". We stand to save a lot of money; because as far as I'm concerned, my local nursery went out of business this week.

I've made a tough decision to stop being a customer there - the place where I'd drop by to visit on the way home and find myself spending $50 when I really didn't need anything, the place I'd find myself sometimes 3 times a day when I was in the middle of a gardening project, and the place I'd go at least once a week even if nothing special was going on in the garden. I could always convince myself that something, some plant or pot or sculpture, was irresistable. But resisting is the current plan. Why the drama? Because the owner was rude to me. Details don't really matter. Technically, he was right. I parked where they said not to. He yelled at me. My feelings are hurt. If he cared about customers, he wouldn't have said what he did in the way he said it. He most certainly doesn't care if he keeps me as a customer. So I'm responding the only way I feel is appropriate.

I used to be in retail. I was a manager for Williams-Sonoma. And, I've been in the restaurant business most of my adult life. So, I really understand the complexities of customer relationships. When you're part of the staff, you sometimes feel like the customers can be demanding and unreasonable. As a customer, I try to remember what that feels like and be respectful and appreciative of people in service industry jobs. I don't expect special treatment, I wait my turn, I try not to bore them with too many stories. And, I always try to shop local.

So there were a lot of choices in this little gardening melodrama - the choice to say things, how they were said, what was really important, and how to react. There's also the choice of whether to shop local or drive to where they're nice to you; whether to save on petrol and support the local economy, or go across town or 15 miles to the north. Whatever else may come of it, it made enough of an impression on me that I hope I'll stop and think twice before I feel the need to "be right" about something.

No pictures in my post today, just ranting. Although I do have to tell you that I have two baby cardinals in a nest just outside my bedroom window. I was afraid the mother had abandoned it during the installation of our guttering. Instead, she and her mate kept their vigil and hatched the two eggs. In the midst of my trivial human drama, something that really matters is happening - and all's right in my little garden.

The First Crop

2008-04-10T18:46:00.000-07:00

Spring Fling 2008 was better than anyone could have imagined - the knowledge and generosity of my fellow garden bloggers overwhelmed me to the point of silence. Anyone who knows me is impressed by that! It has been captured so well on other sites, I've decided to leave it at that. Sometimes something is so good, my feeble attempts to describe it only diminish it. Check out Pam's "Digging'" for info, pictures, and links. It was perfect. Enough said.

It surprises me how many people are tracking the progress of my rain harvesting tank installation. Just for them - here's the big unveiling! The morning after Spring Fling, we went to the local big box and got the PVC piping and fittings to connect the tank.

If you're not used to doing a lot of projects with PVC, I encourage you to gently connect all the pieces while you're there at the store to test for fit. They always have short sections of piping for sale. Assemble joints and use one of those short sections to test everywhere you think straight lengths of pipe will be. Four inch and three inch inside diameters begin to look a lot alike when faced with a wall of white plastic. We went armed with the downspout adapter installed by our guttering company. In the picture below, it's the rectangular piece with a round outlet at the bottom of the spout. It's screwed on, not riveted, so it can be removed to go on your walkabout with you.

In this shot, you can see the top of the tank. There is a lid that screws on over the drop-in basket, but we chose to leave it open for now. The removable strainer basket catches leaves and anything that makes it past the "first flush". Many people just cut a hole the size of the pipe and let the water flow directly into the tank. As the water in this type of installation is only for landscape purposes, that works fine. We just didn't want to cut a hole until we were certain we had everything the way we want it. I'm making a little wooden "roof" (that looks a lot like a birdhouse) to sit over the opening to deflect leaves and protect the basket from falling twigs.

So, what's a "first flush"? It's the stretch of pipe that has to fill up before water backs up and begins to flow into your tank. The picture above shows ours, which will hold about 8 gallons before water flows off to the tank (through that pipe to the left at the very top of the picture). Gravel, bird droppings, and other junk is washed down by the initial rainfall, and settles in the pipe. It's also possible to install a valve with a float in this section - it seals off the opening when the first flush pipe is full. But in landscape applications, it's not really necessary. Just remember if you live in a city that gives rebates on rainwater harvesting systems (like Austin), you are required to include a first flush. At the very end of the pipe, there's a screw on cap you remove to release the first flush water into the garden. Lots of people loosely attach that cap so it drips a little all the time and doesn't really have to be opened completely. Just be sure it's snug enough to contain the water during a rain.

Now, how to get the water OUT of the tank. The piece shown below is screwed into the opening at the bottom of the tank to adapt the opening size to the opening of the valve:

A heavy duty valve like the one shown is necessary to hold up to the pressure of all that water. It goes on next:

The next fitting, an adapter, will size the opening down to your pump hose or a regular garden hose. We'll soon be installing a Grundfos pump that has a 1" pipe connection; but for now, we're putting in a 5/8" adapter to connect a hose faucet.

Then this ...

All assembled, it looks like this:
I actually have the hose faucet outlet pointed sideways now so I don't bang my knuckles on it when turning the handle on the big valve. This picture was taken when it still pointed down ( before I banged my knuckles.)

I didn't tell you before, but the deciding factor in chosing a guttering company was this little design element shown above. We have one of those crazy rooflines - little sections interrupted by windows and several different levels. Our salesman had enough experience in rainwater harvesting, he was able to suggest things like this to capture that little extra bit of rain. The installers crafted this out of a section of downspout. It catches a valley in the roofline that otherwise just would have been wasted. Listen for things like this that prove they understand what you want and are not just delivering their canned sales pitch. Luckily, all three of my salesmen were well informed. It was a hard choice.

Yesterday we got our test rain - a downpour of about 1/2 inch in a short period. All the parts stayed stuck together, even though we didn't use any adhesives. I was like a kid seeing snow for the first time - out there listening to the drops ping down into the big tank. My husband wanted to turn on the tap, but I didn't want to waste a drop. Now, if I can just get a good night's rest. I kept dreaming of all the little lizards who might be trapped by a sudden storm. Nature lovers! We're a mess, aren't we?

Today's Blooms

2008-03-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

This time of year it's great to be a gardener in central Texas. The leopard frog in my pond has resumed his nightly serenade after a winter's rest, we're getting some much needed rain, and everything looks so fresh and healthy in the cooler weather. Yesterday I was talking to a plant supplier in Virginia who is still having to worry about the effects of snow and cold weather. I was telling him how we are trying to get plants started now so they can get a good start before the killing heat sets in.

I missed Bloom Day, so here's what was blooming in my garden on the ides of March ...

A few years ago, I found this small tulip at a local nursery. It's t. clusiana "Cynthia" and will naturalize here in Austin. Above are three pictures of the same plant; I'm trying to capture the wonderful yellow and deep pink of the blooms. The top photo is the closest, but it didn't show the pink as well as it was taken later in the day when the blooms had opened.

Colleen's Climber rose

Chandler strawberries

"Old Blush" rose - one of several started from cuttings last year and already looking like this!

Flowering quince - puts on a show just once a year then goes back into hiding

"Apple" pelargonium - scented geranium that smells just like Juicy Fruit gum

"Attar of Rose" pelargonium - one of the strongest rose scented geraniums

Lady Banks rose - this one was cut almost to the ground when repairing the fence, but she's coming back in style. (Plants teach me a lot about resilience and patience.)

Meyer Lemon - it makes just enough lemons each year for one batch of Lemon Ginger Marmalade using a recipe my mother-in-law gave me. This year, I modified the recipe and also made a second batch from those little clementine oranges and some chipotle chiles. Our"Mexican Mandarin Marmalade" was a huge hit!

Butterfly weed or Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) - the flowers attract butterflies and the leaves are a favorite food of the caterpillars of Monarch butterflies that migrate through central Texas

Mexican Lime - it's looking like we might have to make margaritas to use them all up

Mrs Oakley Fischer rose with friend

Dicentra ("Bleeding Heart")

Borage

"Peter's abutilon (Vesuvius?)

"Marilyn's Choice" abutilon

Bengal Tiger rose - profits from the sale of this rose go to a tiger preservation fund

Martha Gonzales rose

Mlle. Franziska Kruger rose

Dianthus

We attended the 20th birthday celebration and benefit at Eastside Cafe this past weekend. After seeing how vibrant and healthy their garden is, I was almost embarassed to show you mine. If you're in the Austin area, please do yourself the favor of seeing what they've managed to do with a small city plot. It's inspiring.

Hope you enjoyed our flowers. Not pictured are the Mutabilis rose and spirea that are putting on a show in the front yard. Also, we're hoping to have a major update on the rainwater harvesting soon. Check back in about a week. If we don't have any more rain delays, we can start collecting it. Gotta love the irony!

Plants with a Past

2008-03-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

Driving to work the other day, I noticed something seemed out of place in a utility easement off to my right. Days passed before I had a reason to drive that way again; but knowing where to look, this time I could clearly see the green crowns of German iris plants scattered in profusion throughout the trenched and packed down right of way.

The New Digs

Yesterday, my husband and I went back and brought a few of them home to a pampered existence of amended soil, mulched surfaces, and regular watering. After surviving for over 50 years in neglect, they'll probably die from the shock. But it made me unbelievably happy to have this connection to the past scattered about my garden. These irises predictably bloom white or blue, but I don't really care which. They're in my garden to provide a feeling more than a flower.

That spot of town has been a cow pasture for as long as most people can recall, but the railroad used to run along there. The only memory of that now is the name of the street - "Railroad" - and a largely neglected historical sign along a park path. However, in the mid-1890's, our little town had a population of 250. The arrival of that railroad doubled the population. Though the railroad, too, is long gone, back then many of the town's homes were situated close to the commerce along the tracks. No telling what humble home was brightened by my plants' ancestors. And no telling how long they've survived there without any help from anyone.

"Peter's" abutilon (from Barton Sprgs. Nursery)

Source often determines what I will commonly call the plants I've started from cuttings - even when I know their botanical names. In my garden you'll find "Jeri's Llano Pink" (an unidentified antique rose from my friend Jeri's home on the Llano River), "Colleen's Climber" (found and shared by my friend Colleen Belk and later officially named for her), "Doug's Peach Iris" from my friend Doug's unbelievable cottage garden in Austin, "Lucinda's Hoja Santa" (started from an offshoot of my long time friend Lucinda's mother plant), and others.

Most of my shrimp plants were started from cuttings from the extension office demo garden. When I'm admiring the startling blue blooms on the Mexican salvia, I'm thinking of the first time I ever enjoyed the contrast of that color against its lime green foliage at Ila's house, then went home with precious cuttings wrapped in damp paper towel. Even lambs ears hold a memory for me of the day I first felt their soft leaves in the early 1970's and went home with a piece of the plant from Madalene Hill's herb garden in East Texas. It or its descendants have been in every single garden I've had since.

"Ila's" Mexican salvia

Many of our local nurseries propagate plants that become known by the gardener who first shared them or where they were originally found: "Marilyn's Choice" abutilon, "Peter's" abutilon, "schoolhouse" lily, the hugely successful "Martha Gonzales" rose, and the more recent "Peggy Martin" rose.

Schoolhouse (or Oxblood) Lily

When I walk through my yard, seeing these plants makes me feel connected to others, whether to dear friends who sent me home with cuttings, other gardeners with a plant I've admired and begged a piece of, or to unknown settlers who put a few irises on either side of a door to brighten the path. Let me know if there are "pass along plants" in your garden.

"Lucinda's" hoja santa

Ongoing Saga of the Rain Tank

2008-03-02T13:19:00.000-08:00

Every gardener I know sings the same tune this time of year - there's just not enough time and daylight to do everything we want or need to do. Amending soil, pruning, putting out transplants, cleaning up winter's leftovers - just the maintenance could overwhelm a fainthearted person. But we gardeners are a sturdy lot. Bring it on! We do all that and more! No wonder I sleep better this time of year .... And, I can't wail and moan about not having enough time to keep up. I look at other garden blogs (around midnight on nights there's not enough moonlight to garden by) and see the standard everyone else sets - they somehow manage to build and maintain amazing gardens, keep up with regular posts on absolutely breathtaking blogs, and probably look fabulous and sweat-free while getting it all done.

At my house, there's lots of sweat and incomplete tasks. Near the top of the to-do list is getting the rain tank hooked up before the rainy season has passed me by. Having the tank delivered before I was ready to hook it up was part of my plan. It forces this job to the top of the list when you see this 7 foot tall tank lurking around the corner of the house. My last post was about the day the tank was delivered, and today I'll cover the tasks we've gotten done so far.

Although I was sad to pronounce it dead and see it go, the oleander had developed a fatal virus that "burned" its leaves and left it lifeless. We'd been giving it lots of extra love and attention since moving into the house, but finally realized it was time. Not only that, it was right where we wanted to install the rain tank. It may have been lifeless above ground, but it had an amazing root system that required days to defeat.

With the oleander stump removed, we needed to provide a level pad on which to place the tank. This part of the yard slopes, so we decided to build a frame to keep the soil from washing away. How many of you ever bought a bag of "topsoil" only to wonder how anyone could bag and sell that awful stuff? Well, we found a perfect use for it. We used it to build up inside the frame. At about $1.20 for a half cubic foot - it's much cheaper than the $3.00 bags of pea gravel we are also using. We used the topsoil to build up to about an inch and a half from the top of our wooden frame, then topped off with the pea gravel and levelled it. We used bagged product rather than having a load delivered as it was easier for us old folks to manage the bags. Above, Brady checks the first layer out and pronounces it ready for the pea gravel. After pouring on the pea gravel, I smoothed it out and checked it with a level.

Next step is getting guttering installed. I've gotten bids on 4" and 6" guttering with screens and with the solid leaf guards. Know ahead of time there will be some ongoing cleaning required with screens, but the cost is about half of the systems with solid guards. And, although smaller widths are available, 6" guttering is usually recommended to handle heavy downpours without loss. The "helmets" or "leaf shields" aren't entirely necessary when the water is just being used in landscape applications. They do cut down dramatically on the amount of gravel that is washed into the gutter, but the "first flush" pipe gives you an opportunity to get rid of most of what works its way towards the tank. It's a pipe installed in the downward flow of water from the gutter that must fill up before water can move on toward the collection tank. It has a removeable cap that allows you to drain the debris out from time to time, including gravel from a composite roof or bird poop or leaves and organic gunk that work their way into the system.

When I was taking the rainwater harvesting training, we were actually making some of the parts as they couldn't easily be purchased in the US - things like the transition piece from the rectangular guttering to round PVC piping for downspouts running into collection tanks. Australia is way ahead of the United States in this area. However, most guttering companies in Austin now carry prefabricated transitions in both metal and PVC made specifically for rainwater harvesting applications. All three companies I've contacted have done lots of rainwater projects and knew what I needed without me telling them. They also worked into their bids a plan for the possibility of adding additional barrels or tanks in the future. They've done this enough to learn it's addictive. How could saving money on water bills or having enough and better quality water for your plants be a bad thing?

By the way, if this size tank scares you, Corinne at Triple S says they also have smaller options: a green tank that holds approx. 1164 gallons that's 53" tall and 86" wide, a green tank that holds 556 gallons that's 64" tall by 48" wide, and a green tank that holds 319 gallons that's 52" tall and 46" wide. I mention the color "green" because the tanks are also made by another manufacturer in black. The capacities and specs are slightly different. She says to feel free to call her at 512.243.0679 if you need any other information. And, don't hesitate to start with just a barrel. Many cities, including Austin, have reduced cost rain barrels available. Really, like I said, how can it be a bad thing - even on a smaller scale!

Enough for today. I'm hoping to have this installed soon and start catching those pennies from heaven. That phrase has certainly taken on new meaning with frequent droughts and climate change, hasn't it? Austin has lots of gardening fairs, garden tours, and gardening seminars filling the calendar in March and April. Then it's time for Spring Fling! Have to remember to make time for playin' outside! Let me hear from you - what's pushing its way to the top of your to-do list?

The Debate

2008-02-07T19:59:00.000-08:00

Super Tuesday's over, Romney's dropped out of the race, Hillary and Obama are set to debate here in Texas, and folks are thinking our state may play a significant role in the election of the next President. In spite of all that, a debate of another kind may have more impact on the quality of life we gardeners can expect in the future. It's about the availability of water and the conflict many homeowners feel every time we talk about whether or not to reduce or eliminate turf areas, what kinds of plants to use in our landscapes, and how far we should go with the idea of rainwater harvesting - whether it's going to be buckets, barrels, or bigger.

Like many homeowners, the resale value of our home is always weighed against changes my husband and I might want to make to reduce our water consumption. Our suburban neighborhood attracts families, and families like grass for the kids to play on. The suburban code seems to mandate the requisite patch of green from front door to street. However, there's an ever growing number of those families drawing water from a limited supply. An average of 60% of that water consumption is being used for watering turf, and we jeopardize the quality of our water with the runoff of the fertilizers and pesticides we use to keep them picture perfect. We actually saw our water bill exceed $300 one month that didn't seem out of the ordinary in terms of heat or water usage. So reducing turf areas makes economic and environmental sense.

So, why don't we do it? Is it the expense or the aesthetics? When I bring up rainwater harvesting with friends or at rainwater harvesting seminars, people almost always say they want to do it but ...

Some don't think the tanks will be okay with their neighbors or homeowners' associations, or are afraid it will reduce the value of their home if they decide to sell. Some don't know how and think it's going to mean a choice between cactus gardens and lush green retreats. Some just don't know where to start. After going through rainwater harvesting specialist training through our Master Gardener program, I knew a long list of compelling reasons we should do it, could recite the theory of how to do it, but still hadn't actually done it at my own house.

Last weekend, we initiated change in our patch of the planet with the delivery of a 1600 gallon tank. I know it looks HUGE - but when I told a friend who's installed systems all over the world what size tank we got, he said, "Oh, you got the small one." Later, when he was looking at where we planned to put it, he said it was a great place because there would be room for the second one about 4 feet away. Hmmm, well, one step at a time.

Step One was horrifying our neighbors with the arrival of the big green tank.

Actually, step one for me was going to Menard, Texas, taking the training, and seeing systems of all sizes from a small one to feed a little fish pond to the big one complete with educational gardens at the city library to the single tank for watering an enclosed patch of "backyard" at a goat ranch. My instructor, Billy Kniffen, always invites the classes over to his home to see what he's accomplished on property purchased for a song because it had no water supply. His two story home, shop, pond, and lush gardens are all supplied by rainwater. When it came to actually putting water into a tank in my own yard, though, I froze and realized the enormous gap between theory and practice. That's where having an installation close by for reference really helps. In Austin, you can go to Zilker Gardens and see a couple of different systems that have been installed by the Master Gardeners.

Bud Kane is one of the experienced installers, and I owe him a huge debt of gratitude for all the hand holding he's been willing to do with me. In turn, I'm going to document our installation for you; so consider your hand held. Feel free to ask questions as this goes along.

This is the point of the day we were sure we heard a collective gasp from the neighbors. I'm sure they were worried they'd be looking at that big green tank for a long time.

This is Corinne, the wonderful voice of Triple S Feed. She knows what they carry, what's in stock at the Creedmoor location and the Dripping Springs location, the tank dimensions, what fittings you might want, and sometimes even talks her husband into making a delivery on a Sunday morning.

Once it's unloaded, the easiest way to move it is to roll it. This tank only weighs about 250 pounds, but its shape makes it awkward to move any other way. We removed one panel of the fence (in one piece) and rolled the tank into the back yard. The fence panel goes right back in place. This tank is 6 feet tall and 7 feet in diameter, and will be hidden from view by the fence.

It actually takes more people to decide where it goes than it does to move it around.

Corinne and her husband leave, and we realize we don't know exactly where the water goes into the tank. Yes, it's still sitting on its side. we're leaving it that way for ease in moving it around until all the guttering and PVC pipe are in place. About where the water enters the tank, that's answered next time ...

Be sure to read the comments for reader questions on this post and my responses.

One less ...

2008-01-29T19:33:00.000-08:00

The world's a different place just before dawn as I walk the dogs. The birds are beginning their morning songs and sometimes I'll catch raccoons or opossums on their way back to their hiding places after their night out. In a neighborhood like mine, it sometimes seems as if the yards have been almost loved to death with fertilizers, sprays, enthusiastic pruning, and our need to conform to the suburban ideal - making these quiet morning moments with nature more precious.

Because of where I live, I see most "critters" as a sign of healing and gardening success - each bird, beneficial insect, butterfly, spider, earthworm, frog, or even snake that finds my yard hospitable. The red-tailed hawks and occasional heron are particular delights, even though they sometimes make a meal of fish from my pond. Don't get me wrong, I realize this view is the fruit of privilege. My family's next meal is not dependent on protecting the crop from rabbits or agricultural blight. But I feel pure joy at the sight of something wild in this tamed landscape.

So, although it seems like gardener heresy, one of my favorite things is seeing three small field rabbits each morning in my neighbor's yard. Their silhouettes in the dark look like chocolate Easter bunnies backlit by the streetlight - always dependably there, standing warily or nibbling at something that seems to grow only in that spot. They were there this morning as we walked by, and I expected them to be gone by the time we came back by. That's our daily routine. But, this morning one remained behind. His lifeless body crumpled by a car, the dogs and I were all startled to find him there in the street.

Why mention it? Because it seems appropriate to mark the passing of an individual. It's easy to see change when it happens on a grand scale or in large numbers. But it actually happens in small increments, like the loss of one small rabbit or the cultivation of a single garden that provides habitat and refuge for a bit of something wild. I'd love to hear how you're creating change in your patch of the planet. And click on the link to the left to read what Carol is doing for creative rabbit damage control at May Dreams Gardens!

Pansies and Crape Myrtles

2008-01-27T18:12:00.000-08:00

This winter I've found myself thinking a lot about my grandmother. It took me a while to realize what was triggering the memories, but I finally realized it was two things: purple pansies and crape myrtles.

We lived in the Mojave Desert when I was a child, and Grandma always kept a bed of purple petunias growing in front of the house. Given the heat, the sand, and the lack of available moisture and nutrients, you can imagine how much fussing she must have done over those straggly plants to produce blooms. She really wanted violets, but learned to settle for and appreciate her pet petunias. They were unfailingly deep purple - as if they didn't come in any other color.

Here in Texas, winter is an ideal time to enjoy pansies. (I know - pansies, not petunias.) You see them mass planted in commercial landscapes and popping out of pots on front porches all over town - the masses of color almost always including Grandma's purple. So, I think of her and how much she would have enjoyed them.

We also seem to have a fondness in central Texas for crape myrtles. My particular neighborhood is thick with them. This time of year much of their foliage is gone, and sometimes we have an opportunity to appreciate their silvery smooth, mottled bark and their stark outlines against the sky. I say "sometimes" because it seems that at some point in the distant past it became "common knowledge" that one should cut them way back. It probably started with one landscaping company, and observers decided it just must be the way "experts" took care of them.

It always reminds me of the story about the proper way to cook a roast. A family of good cooks thought you always cut the roast in half before you put it in the pan. That's the way the matriarch of the family had always done it, and it was the best tasting roast they could imagine. One year, that same matriarch was in the kitchen during the preparation of the roast and asked why they were cutting it in half. When they said it was because she had always done it that way, she replied that was only because the pan she had was too small and she had to cut the meat to make it fit.

The truth is that these crape crew cuts don't just look bad, they don't support the health of the tree. How we choose to prune them affects not only the shape, but the vigor and soundness of the tree. Topping, as these crew cuts are called, produces numerous new shoots that develop rapidly. That sounds good, you say, as the tree will appear bushy. However, the new shoots form weak attachments to the main trunk and tend to be less healthy. The number of leaves is reduced, and thereby the trees' ability to produce food energy through photosynthesis. Weaker trees are more susceptible to attack by insects and disease, and can result in early death. In mature trees, large pruning cuts are slower to heal and more vulnerable to decay.

So, why do crape myrtles remind me of my grandmother? We lived in the Mojave Desert because the warm, dry climate was supposed to be good for the crippling arthritis she lived with all her life. When I see those knobby, misshapen knuckles topping crape myrtles, I feel an urge to soothe them - just as I felt when I saw my grandmother's hands.

Here's some reliable information from the AggieHorticulture website on proper techniques for crape myrtle care:

They don't need to be pruned to flower. However, proper thinning will open up the growth of the tree and allow air circulation. This will reduce the possibility of powdery mildew growth. You should wait until early spring to thin, as trees cut in December through February suffer greater winter damage. Don't cut any wood thicker than a pencil. And, remember. With proper care, some of these trees naturally grow to a statuesque height of 35 feet. See the very first photo for a glimpse of how beautiful a stand of well cared for crape myrtles can be. Grandma would've loved them. Especially the purple flowered ones.

Like a Bird on a Wire

2008-01-24T19:19:00.001-08:00

Do you have a Hitchcock moment when you see large groups of grackles or other birds gathering in the trees? The majority opinion seems to be that they are a nuisance, owing to the "paint job" they leave where they roost.
Odd as it may seem, I enjoy them. Yes, I find it mildly irritating to have to clean grackle spackle off the rocks around the pond. But I've found a well placed rubber snake is effective crowd control.

When pairs of the sleek black males preen and strut and screech with their beaks straight up to the sky, how can you not laugh?

And, have you ever noticed that they appear to maintain fairly consistent "personal space" between each individual but still seem to prefer belonging to a larger group? Hmmm....makes me think we might not be so different in some ways. Here's another reason:

Years ago, I was the chef at a downtown hotel. One day I realized I had been hearing an odd noise repeating for some time and went to investigate. A female grackle was standing at the glass entry door of the restaurant screeching for attention and occasionally pecking the glass. I gently opened the door and talked to her. She cocked her head sideways but stood her ground. I could see that she had some type of tumor or growth on the side of her head, but she didn't appear ill. Wanting to be a good host, I did what chefs do - I went inside and found food and drink to offer her (a lid from a jar filled with water, some crushed sunflower seeds, and some chopped up bacon. I mean, really, we weren't exactly prepared for this particular guest.) By this time, the staff and customers were all watching, but she ate and drank as if she'd ordered from the menu. When she was through, she flew off.

Grack returned every day, and we all began to watch for her. We learned that she would approach other adult grackles then flutter and beg like a baby bird. The other adults would then feed her.

As time went on, she seemed to become a bit unsteady but still showed up for her meals. One day, the entire staff of the restaurant watched as she flew up to the door but could not stand or remain upright. All of us, and I mean all of us, were crying when she died.

What a gift that goofy bird was ...

You Had Me at Woof!

2008-01-23T20:20:00.000-08:00

We have a saying in the South - "preachin' to the choir." That's what today's blog is like. If you've ever enjoyed the love and companionship of an animal, there's no need to try to explain the value and difference it can make in your life. If you haven't, it's not something words can convey and you're just going to be aggravated with me for talking about it in a blog that's primarily about gardening. But remember, day one I promised you things that made me stop and think "wow".

That said, today I'd like to introduce you to Simon. He's currently looking for a home in the Austin area, and this is what the Austin Humane Society folks have to say about him:

"Oh, Simon! This dog has stolen hearts all over Texas. Simon was found in the Giddings Animal Shelter with a crushed front leg and a terrible case of heartworms. A very nice gentleman saw what a great dog Simon is and was determined to save Simon's life. With help from a very generous vet in Giddings, Simon's leg was amputated and he was transferred to The Austin Humane Society for his heartworm treatment and rehabilitation. He got through his heartworm treatment with no problems. He has never missed the leg he lost. This dog had some hard living before he came to us. We could all learn something about optimism from Simon. He loves all people, other dogs, and cats. His favorite thing is a belly rub and snuggling. Simon is very strong and needs some leash training, but he will give so much more in return. He is the strongest 3 legged dog you will ever meet! Be careful, he has a way with people. He is very easy to fall in love with. Ask anyone who has ever met him!"

Simon sounds like a great excuse to be Playin' Outside! Doesn't seem like you can call yourself a gardener if you've not met the challenge of gardening with dogs (or cats, for that matter.) And who can't identify with another being who has had a hard time and needs some snuggling. So, if you're not reading this years after it was posted in January 2008, and if there's room in your heart and home, post a comment and I'll e-mail pictures to you (that pic up there of my guys is just to grab your attention, but he's just as cute.) If you have a big heart and don't even care what Mr. Wonderful looks like, call Layla at the Humane Society for adoption info - Layla Hanna, Intake Supervisor/Foster Care Coordinator 512-646-7387 ext. 231 lhanna@austinhumanesociety.org

The Heart of Our Garden

2008-01-22T12:50:00.000-08:00

After visiting this blog for the first time, a friend asked who built our pond. She suggested others might be interested in the details, too. Okay ... short answer is that it was Steven's (my husband's), idea, my design, and our combined sweat.

We killed the existing straggly ficus by covering it with heavy mil black plastic and let the Texas sun cook it for several months (solar weeding.) Steven dug out the area and cleared plant runners and roots. Then I worked on rock placement that would hopefully discourage our water-loving dogs. I'm also chief maintenance engineer, meaning that anyone can do what it takes to keep a pond healthy with a little vigilance. And, it's another excuse to be "Playin' Outside".

In the beginning, I have to admit I was constantly checking the skimmer for fish (one earned the name "Columbus" for its adventures in the skimmer and into the rocks.) Until we made the overflow drain I mention later, fluctuations in water levels during heavy rains would sometimes strand fish in the rocks. But the skimmer no longer calls my name for cleaning every couple of seconds. It functions just as well, if not better, when checked every couple of weeks. When the leaves fall heavily, I check it daily and remove the excess.

Water falls over rocks to a shallow ledge designed to give the birds a place to drink and bathe. (See the bottom right of the photo below.) It then flows to the plant ledge which is about 2 feet deep, then steps down to about 4 feet deep to give fish protection during the extreme cold (or hot) weather. Water flows through a skimmer with a filter, and is pumped back up to the filter fall where there's a biological filter. That's a total of 3 filters: prefilter on the pump, screen filter in the skimmer, and biological filter in the filter fall.

We used an 1800 gallon per hour pump for a pond volume we estimated to be between 450 and 600 gallons, wanting to allow for adequate circulation and enough force coming down from the waterfall. We lined the floor of the hole with carpet scraps, and used the heaviest gauge flexible liner we could find. If we reduced the likelihood of having to replace it, it was well worth the cost. There's an overflow "vent" hidden at water level on one side for those Texas downpours. That little design feature was retrofitted after one too many nights out there with a bucket in the middle of a storm.

We currently have Japanese Ryukin goldfish, seven at last count. One has a misshapen tail and has to come inside to the mystery snail tank during the winter. We found he can't keep himself upright when his metabolism slows in the winter. Either that, or he just likes to eat year-round and is very clever. (We stop feeding when the temps are consistently below about 55 degrees.) We initially lost a few fish to the local red tail hawks, but that seems to have stopped. The fish actually seem to learn to avoid the skimmer weir and must be better at hiding from predatory birds. Contrary to popular wisdom, raccoons have not been a problem.

We couldn't have done it without the classes offered by Steve at Hill Country Water Gardens in Cedar Park. They actually construct a shallow pond on their grounds while the classes watch and ask a bazillion questions. (Then they give a discount on materials to everyone in the class.) They also have lots of ponds on the grounds to show what's possible and the staff seems to have an endless supply of patience.

We can't stress enough the change the pond has made in our backyard. It's inviting, soothing, and very effective at masking the less enjoyable sounds of suburban living. It has truly become the heart of our garden. It's cooling in the Texas summer heat, and a great excuse to go "play outside". And no, it doesn't encourage mosquitos (the water moves too much for them to stick around.) It does, however, attract dragonflies. Above and below are pictures of a couple of our regulars ...

In a perfect world, it should probably get more sun and be located where it would collect fewer leaves. However, our pond is just what we wanted, just where we wanted it, and brings us a lot of happiness with very little work. Regularly scheduled visits with a mental health professional would certainly cost more than the approximately $1000 we invested in materials, plants, and fish.

After the Freeze

2008-01-20T19:34:00.000-08:00

A crocosmia "Lucifer" and a "Cajun Spice" German iris peeking up through the mulch and leaf litter by the pond. Sustained low temps (last night in the 20's) left icy patches on the pond rocks and pushed the frost damage further down toward the ground. Tips and new growth had been damaged before, but most of the salvias, "Mexican petunias", and other tender items are gone now. This bed by the pond is usually dominated by a salvia puberula. Here's a picture of its vivid blooms as they appear from late summer until the frosts start. They start out a tight ball and slowly unfurl from the bottom to resemble a more typical salvia bloom. Thanks to my friend, Bill Hyland, for finding its botanical name when the nursery could only tell me it was "Rosy Sage".
The row cover over the hoja santa is just too tempting a toy for the squirrels. They seem to make a game of tearing it up. The plant freezes down to the ground, but the bit of protection provided by the row cover seems to give it a head start at coming back in the spring.
Here's Bradybeans (above) rooting around in the same corner just a month earlier and keeping the world safe from squirrels (below.) Get a good look at that right hip - there's no hip socket, just muscle holding his leg in place! You'd never know it when he rockets around the yard and jumps several feet in the air after squirrels. He's got a great story I'll save for another post.

The greenhouse successfully kept the chill at bay, protecting orchids, a five year old jalapeno plant, and a variety of scented geraniums. The coral vine that usually covers the bamboo lattice has died down for the season, as well as the variety of tomato plants usually populating the "grow boxes" you see here. Only strawberries, swiss chard, and the peas continue to thrive in the cold - and the peas are looking a bit frostbitten! Dwarf Gray Sugar is covered with blooms and the promise of more tiny pea pods.
This one Zebrina delphinium still looks great, hosting a well-chilled but tasty breakfast of its sap for a leaf footed bug this morning. Poor plants never seem to get a break from the bugs in an organic garden, but so far the bugs haven't seemed to tip the balance in their favor. Other "Zebrinas" in the garden are looking much worse from the sustained low temps, even though they're larger than this little guy. To the left are hyacinths (I think!) There are also some native tulips in this same area that start out looking much the same.

Here's my favorite polar bear - Gable, my white Labrador Retriever.

This antique rose, Sam Houston, still had a couple of buds and one open bloom. The roses Martha Gonzales and Bengal Tiger also still had blooms up until this freeze. We'll see what happens if the temps stay low for any length of time. I know folks gardening where it's really cold are laughing at all this talk of "low temps". Yeah, we know we're spoiled.

2008-01-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

Amazing how exposed it feels when you start this blogging process! I half way expect comments like "What makes you think you're interesting, missie?" Well, I'm probably not. But, some amazing people have shared their time and knowledge with me; so I'm hoping to serve as a bridge between them and anyone who bothers to read my blog. The Travis County Master Gardeners are at the top of that list! take a look at the greenhouse I built after they showed me how. It made it through the snow and ice of winter 2006 and is still going strong this "winter".

2008-01-18T19:11:00.000-08:00

These pictures show our pond from its infancy (three winters and one large snake ago) to this past summer when a wonderful Southern Leopard Frog moved in and began serenading us every night. The other frog (in the bottom photo) is hyla cinerea, Green Treefrog. Go to the Univ of Florida website for info and to hear the leopard frog's two unique songs at the bottom of their page:

http://www.wec.ufl.edu/extension/wildlife_info/frogstoads/rana_utricularia.php