gardening in Texas

3 12, 2018

My Texas Green Thumb

By |2018-11-30T07:58:32-06:00December 3rd, 2018|Writer's Life|1 Comment

Gardeners claim green thumbs if their plants do well.

When we lived in Colorado, if you didn’t have a green house, the growing season was only about two months long. Hardly long enough for anything to grow to maturity and bear blooms or fruit. A green thumb didn’t produce much to brag about.

I was so excited to return to Texas and reclaim my green thumb status. Except, I forgot two things:

  1. White tail Deer and other varmints
  2. Texas weather

While wildlife is lovely to watch, the varmints do munch on flowers, fruit trees, and vegetable gardens. Living in a certified Wildlife Habitat, it’s unfair to discourage the critters.

I’ve tried to grow my favorites. Rose bushes lasted hardly a week and that was with something called “Deer Away” sprinkled around. The geraniums and caladiums didn’t make it overnight.

Mostly I’ve been container gardening around the patio and porch. The four-legged creatures rarely venture into the backyard thanks to our Finnegan, see his head in the picture of the nubby spider plant. Deer don’t understand he’s more afraid of them than they are of him.

Who knew deer or squirrels like citronella and spider plants?

 

The bigger issue is Texas winter weather.

We’ve already had several hard freezes, which is very unusual for November in this part of the state. I draped twenty-odd sheets over azaleas, spider plants, hydrangeas, four o’clocks, and cannas. Left them covered for days. Not a problem to do with multiple nights of freezing temperatures or months of cold temperatures.

But these yo-yo temps make it hard. You no sooner pack the sheets away and there’s another freeze warning.

Some like my rosemary do fine covered. The Texas Star Hibiscus turned to sticks anyway. So did some of the canna leaves. Others like the zinnias totally died.

I’ve taken to opening the back door after an evening weather forecast for a frost or freeze and shouting to the plants: “It’s going to be very cold tonight. You’re on your own.”

Don’t think me cruel or uncaring, all the tender potted plants live in the garage from when temps start staying consistently cooler. FYI, that’s around forty degrees in these parts and usually means from December to January.

My poor green thumb is pale, my yard kinda bare now, but there are lots of animals, large and small, to watch.

7 05, 2018

A Tale of Canna Lilies and Irises

By |2018-05-01T10:37:57-05:00May 7th, 2018|A Writer's Life|0 Comments

The urge to dig in the dirt attacks me every spring no matter where I live.

I miss certain elements of all my gardens. Things like the columbine and poppies of Colorado, Tennessee irises, rhododendron in Connecticut, and the lilacs of Kentucky to name a few.

Often I was able to transplant favorites from place to place. Sometimes the climate differences between states meant plants couldn’t thrive in the new locale.

Our return to Texas last year meant a return to familiar gardening with an added benefit I was able to reunite a favorite garden flower (canna lilies) and my antique birdbath.

When we lived in Texas before our move to Colorado, I transplanted Rose of Sharon, cannas, and monkey grass from my family home in Austin to our home in Houston.

Because canna lilies love the Texas heat and are prolific, I shared plants with friends and family. One of those friends let me come dig some of the cannas I’d given her for my new garden here.

I inherited the birdbath, which has been around since 1930, from my family home in Austin, where it sat in the backyard with cannas around it. After the birdbath moved to Colorado with us, it’s returned to our backyard once again surrounded by its cannas. I added the butterfly plants to attract Monarch butterflies to our wildlife habitat.

Hurricane Harvey’s floodwaters were too much for a very large, tall pine tree that stood where the flowerbed is now.

The same friend offered clumps of her Aunt Reece’s irises for the birdbath bed in the side yard. I’m sure they’ll thrive beside the lemon tree.

The previous homeowner left that birdbath and the one on the ground. The swan is a holdover from our antique shop days. Altogether, the little flowerbed invites the robins and cardinals to stop.

The yard is a work in progress. Soon the hot days of a Texas summer will limit my gardening, but in the meantime I’m enjoying myself.

Digging in the dirt is a great stress reliever for me and the fruits of my labor bring immeasurable reward. Who doesn’t feel a sense of joy and peace walking in a garden with the aroma of flowers and the sound of birds chirping?

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