Scenes From a Bedroom Window

I'm having kind of a love/fuck-off relationship with the house I live in these days.  And my broken foot.  I can't really garden right now, but I can make you look at pictures of my houseplants.  

This little Sansevieria (Santeria, or Santa
Pizzeria, according to my roommate) got a new
pot the other day, since the old one wouldn't
hold enough water for it anymore. My friend
Nan would like you to know that she gave me
the Jade plant cutting on the left.  :) 

This Hoya used to live on my nightstand, but it was
drying out in the ceiling fan breeze, so I moved it here.
It's been very happy since. 

 

A biiiiiig Asparagus Fern in the corner of the window (it's
three feet across), next to a plate of small succulents. 

 

This little fern was eaten by cats a couple
of months ago, so I moved it here so I could keep a
closer eye on it.  It's coming back nicely so far. 

The whole window, as it is right now.  L-R:  Red Chinese Evergreen, Japanese Painted Fern, String-of-Pearls
Senecio,  Hoya, Ponytail Palm, Pothos, Jade plants and "Spikes" Sansevieria, Asparagus Fern 

I love that this window is the first thing I see in the morning.  I love how it looks when it's raining outside. And I kind of love when I find sneaky cats up there: 

This is Owen, my roommate's cat.  Aka Owen the One-Eyed Wonder
Kitty, or simply, What the Hell, Owen? (Both his eyes work fine; he
has a malformed nictating membrane that keeps him from opening
his right eye all the way). 

Armchair Gardening

How many people read this blog, anyway? Like two? Well, if either of you has been wondering why I stopped posting, here it is: 

On May 14th, I broke two bones in my right foot (for my fellow nerds: extra-articular calcaneus fracture; it's cuboid neighbor basically got its top sheared off), and hyperextended the ligament that wraps around the outside of my ankle.  As much as I'd like to be able to say it's a cool cycling injury - because I was out on a ride when it happened - it actually happened while I was off the bike posing for a group picture.  And yes, I finished the ride after it happened, because I didn't know it was broken.  I thought, "Well, you stepped in a hole, dork.  But the motion of the pedals should limber up that sore foot, right?  And I'll just ice it when I get home."  But by the time we got to downtown Austin I couldn't put my foot down at stoplights and had to switch feet; by the time we got back to the shop I couldn't walk anymore.  I drove home, slowly and carefully, and in a lot of pain, and then my roommate took me to the ER.

For the past four weeks, and likely the next four as well, I'm stuck in a big, velcro space-boot, wheeling around on a little blue knee-scooter.  That part is pretty cool.  The crutches I started out with were destroying my hands; the scooter is fast, comfy, versatile, and has a dinky little basket on the front which has been a life-saver at work.  The scooter feels something like being on a bike and a skateboard at the same time, which has been a bit confusing to my reflexes (do I bunny-hop over this extension cord on the floor, or ollie it?)

This means no gardening for me, aside from sitting in a chair or on the couch, thinking about gardening.  Thankfully, it's been raining about once a week for the past month; but with warmer and drier weather setting in, I'm thinking about that sprinkler I never got around to buying a few months ago.  Sure, I could wrap a trash bag around my leg and water by hand - but I can't really stand up that long.  Popping down the street to the nursery isn't as easy as it was: I have to pack the scooter in the car, take off the boot to drive, put it back on when I get there, unpack the scooter, then traverse the parking lot and store without bumping into anyone and without being able to carry much in my basket...all the while knowing that if any one were to harrass or attack me while I'm out on my own, I couldn't defend myself or run away.  Not that I'm exactly Van Damme on my best day, but still - knowledge of your own vulnerability is, well, it's pretty much the human condition anyway, isn't it?  So, whatever.  Shut up, brain.

Anyway.

Even if I haven't been doing much lately, I hate to leave you without any pictures.  Most of these were taken during the last storm, so, just know that in these pictures, I'm wearing a trash bag on my right leg:

First flower cluster on my first Plumbago

I love the way this Oak looks in the rain

This ball moss, all decked out in dead leaves and raindrops

My friend Star brought me a basket of
Petunias when I broke my foot   <3

I can't get over how cool the bark is on this Lace Bark
Elm in the front yard.  I love this tree. 

Raindrops on roses leaves is one of my favorite things.
This Caladium was in my bag of "White Christmas"
Caladiums, but I think it's a different kind.

I bought this gal in May, shown here on a trail near my house which I only
discovered two days before the ride during which I broke my foot...which
was only my 5th ride on it.  I cannot wait to get rolling again.   

See you both next time.

Admiral, There Be Caladiums Here!

So it turns out that the admittedly-adorable, young, female squirrel who's been digging in my front garden may not have been actually removing my Caladium bulbs.  I saw two emerge from the ground the other day, and since then, I've found three more.  Little Girl Squirrel continues to dig little, round holes in my beds - I think she might be burying food, and not performing unsolicited plant-removal services.  

OOH, AHH

I planted 18 "White Christmas"Caladiums in February.  So far I've got five above-ground, and I'm interested to see how many more of them appear.  There are a couple of large (2-3') areas of the front beds which I was hoping would be carpeted by soft, white, floppy leaves by now; but then, I've never actually grown Caladiums before.  The newly-emerged plants could be the only ones I get (the others could very well have drowned or rotted as a result of the recent rains); or they could be earlier than their neighbors - time will tell.

BABY  LEAFS!

Bless her heart, I surprised Little Girl Squirrel the other day, at work in the garden.  She bounded away, and ran face-first into the fencing around the beds, fell on the ground, and then hopped over the fence to freedom.  Silly thing. I probably scared her more by laughing out loud than by simply appearing nearby. 

Plant List: Backyard/Patio

Because I'm trying to keep up with my plants, and because I have a blog and you get to look at whatever I write, my backyard/patio now contains:

Planted in the ground: 

Rosemary, unknown variety, bought as a "Christmas Tree" topiary, January 2017,  and pruned into a "ball" (lump, wad, what have you)

Container Garden, Patio: 

Blue Plumbago (Plumbago auriculata)
Jasmine, pink-flowered (Jasminum polyanthum) - this was moved from the front yard
Fernleaf Lavender (Lavandula pinnata)
Serrano pepper (Capsicum annuum)
"Yellow Pear" Cherry Tomatoes (2)
"Patio" tomato
Columbine, "Harlequin Mix" (Aquilegia vulgaris) - from the box that was in the front yard
Onion Chives (Allium schoenpprasum)
Lavandula dentata - a bright green variety I can't remember the name of, and there was no tag :c
Thai Basil (Ocimum basilicum)
Lime Mint (Mentha spp.) - I think.  It smells like Lime Mint, but it wasn't labeled.


* If you haven't tried Yellow Pear tomatoes, you must.  They've got a mellow, warm flavor, perfect for adding to savory things.  They're awesome in Greek salads, and on bruschetta. My favorite way to eat them, though, is right off the plant, warm from the sun, while working in the garden.

A pink columbine, part of the "Harlequin Mix" that moved from the
Earthbox planter into their own separate containers last weekend.

A Storm, and Some New Plants

It rained Sunday morning. The way the news fussed about it, you'd think it was
going to rain frogs and kill everyone in the state. It was pretty epic, but it was also
really nice to wake up and enjoy my coffee to the sounds of a thunderstorm.

My front garden is under water!  Note the big, empty spot in the center
there where a kind squirrel has been good enough to relieve me of all of
the  Caladiums that I planted there in February.

Flooded yard.  Apparently people all over the Austin area got just
pounded by this storm - there was a lot of straight-line wind damage,
and even reports of a funnel cloud in west Austin. 
All I got was a lot of water. 

Like, a LOT.  Bye-bye, mulch.

After the storm cleared, it was a GORGEOUS day, which I
used for a quick trip to It's About Thyme to shop for pretty
things to pot up for the patio. There's a blue Plumbago here, with
a Pink Jasmine, and a Fernleaf Lavender.

Veggies and herbs on this side, along with the columbines in the EarthBox
 from the front yard.  Yellow Pear tomatoes, a "Patio Tomato", Serrano pepper,
onion chives,  a dentata lavender, Lime Mint - and you can't tell in this picture,
but the  potted rosemary from the front yard is now planted in the ground,
just off  the corner of the slab.

Daisy assisted, and then we both sat on the patio and rested for a while.
She watched the birds. 

You Can't Go Home Again

Things do change over time, don't they?  The Zilker Garden Festival was a bit of a disappointment.  Kind of a huge one, actually.  I remember an enormous wonderland of plants, garden lectures, product demos, local experts to chat with - with some food and music and arts-n-crafts thrown in for spice.  Yesterday at the festival, there were maybe six nursery booths, the rest was normal festival-vendor fare: clothing, jewelry, random housewares and pottery...pretty much anything but garden-related things.  Disappointed but undaunted, I set off (with the friends I had dragged along with me, promising the wall-to-wall plant-shopping extravaganza I remembered) into the botanical gardens, hoping for a serene stroll to remedy the disappointment and frustration I was feeling, only to find that most of it had been taken over by the childrens' activities areas.  So much for that, then.  Oh, well. 

It'll be a couple more weeks until the botanical gardens are in full bloom, but I did find these cute little guys bopping around happily in the breeze:

Anemone coronaria

another anemone about to open

this one blew out of the frame as I took this picture...
revealing a forgotten shovel.  Whoops!

A big double daffodil

And a single one, with an anemone behind it
making it look like a two-colored flower

All the little violets! They're so cute.

This is not a flower.  But it's still pretty cool. 
It was as big as my hand!

Meanwhile, I still have a LOT to do in the garden.  The festival kind of derailed some plans I had for the weekend, but I'll catch up this week.  If I can get my butt in gear the next few days (I'm extremely, unbelievably tired today for some reason) I should have an actual update on how it's going for you.  Here's hoping.

Dog tax:
Shelly resting her face against my foot.  Silly old bear.

Critters & Columbines

So, the bare-root Columbines I planted in the Earthbox last month are doing well:

February 22, 2017

March 19

glamour shot

I'm looking at revamping my whole patio space in the backyard soon.  I loved having an herb and flower border surrounding my patio area at the old house, and I was thinking about doing something similar in the new house.  These columbines are going to anchor the "doorways" that will lead through the border into the yard, I think.



Here's the patio itself...well, most of it.  It makes a great "before" shot, doesn't it?  Full of leaves and those hateful, crunchy, little Live Oak flowers that carry that infuriating yellow pollen that sticks to everything this time of year.  Also shown:  a bunch of junk I hadn't cleaned off before taking this pic, muddy yard shoes, and a wee House Finch:

 

Don't see the bird?  Here:

Hee.

In the front yard, all of the Caladiums I planted in February have been removed by the @#*!! squirrels:

LEAVES.  STAAAAHP.

Did you miss it?  Look again:

 

Little bastards.


Also, meet Frances: 

Frances is a Funnel Web spider (Agelenidae) who lives on my front porch and prevents people  ringing the doorbell.  Frances is harmless - not related to the Australian Funnel Web spiders you hear about that are trying to kill you.  (I think maybe everything in Australia is trying to kill you).  She likes to collect dead bugs.  She normally cleans out her web every few days, but she's really let it go lately.  Bad Frances.


It's going to be a big weekend in the backyard.  I'm hoping by Sunday evening the whole thing will have been completely transformed.  Also, The Zilker Garden Festival is this weekend.  I haven't been in a few years, and I'm so excited about it! 

More soon. 

Because Weather

"I know, summer doesn't officially start until June 21st, but it's been in the 90s for half of May already.  It may not be summer yet, technically, but it's already feeling like it."

- Me, on this blog, May 21, 2015.  

Three days ago it was 85ºF, and this morning when I left the house to go to work, it was 32º. 
(Insert obligatory "welcome to Texas" joke). 

Thankfully, all the new plants seemed to be perfectly happy despite the cold this morning. Thank goodness it wasn't also raining.

Although it DID rain two nights ago, and I'm pleased to report that the new mulch prevented the rain cascading off the roofline from digging a trench in the bed.  It wasn't a frog-floater, by any means, but that was the first test passed.  I imagine it'll be a month or two before we get a big, thundering gully-washer and I'll find out exactly how stable the mulch layer actually is.

Two Favorite Flowers

Columbines 

me, 2017

My grandparents lived in White Rock, New Mexico, which is a little bitty village about 40 minutes up the mountain from Santa Fe, near Los Alamos and about a thousand little ski resorts.  We drove up there several times a year when I was a kid, most often in the spring and summer.  I spent countless hours there wandering the little streets, gawking at all the alien trees and the huge mountains, and touching and smelling all the flowers that were planted within arm's reach of the sidewalks and streets.

One of the houses a couple of streets over from my grandparents' house had columbines.  And I mean, they had hundreds of plants, all over the yard and in the traffic strip, so that walking past that house you were surrounded by columbines in every color and shape.

Best of all was a tiny, cheerful sign with flowers painted on it, which said, "Pick some!"  I did, on every walk, and every walk ended high atop the tallest slide at the local playground, watching the evening thunderstorms roll in over the mountaintops, with fistfuls of graceful, cheerful columbines piled in my lap.

Clematis

 

also me

While I love all Clematises, especially Sweet Autumn, 'Romantika' is my absolute favorite, simply
because I have gotten to know one of them, and it's been a constant friend for nearly twenty years.

I bought it when I was 22, and grew it in a container where it clambered around an upside-down tomato cage for nearly six years, moving with me from apartment to apartment.  When I bought my last home in 2004, I planted the vine in the ground for the very first time, and there it stayed for twelve years, wrapping itself around the post on my back porch each year, each year growing longer vines and larger flowers.

I could always count on 'Romantika' to come back bushier and brighter, every time it was cut back for the winter - or if it got out of hand and I had to shear it back to the ground to start over, which I did at least twice a year.  This plant above all others, I wanted to bring with me to the new place - it had stuck by me for so long, longer than people, or places, or any other possession. It was part of me. So I cut it back one last time, intending to dig up the root ball once it recovered and started growing again; but it never did.  I was heartbroken to see it finally go, especially at a time I was letting go of a place I had anchored to and wanted desperately to keep a little bit of it with me.  I hope to find a new one soon (the original came from Joy Creek Nursery in Oregon). It won't be my same old friend, which sheltered me from the rain on the back porch, hosted many families of lizards and birds, and shone a thousand different shades of green in the morning sunlight -- but it'll be just as beautiful to look at and sit under.

"Unknown Variety"

I'm disappointed by how many of my plants didn't come with labels, or had labels with less than complete information.  I like to know what I'm growing.

So, I made a list!

Plants In the Front Beds as of 02-12-2017: 

SUN
Columbine, "Harlequin Mix" (Aquilegia vulgaris), some container, some in the ground
Lavender, "Goodwin Creek" (Lavandula x ginginsii "Goodwin Creek")
Lavender, English (Lavandula angustifolia)
Strawberry, unknown variety (Frgaria), container
Rosemary, unknown variety (Rosmarinus officinalis), container
Powell's Crinum Lily (Crinum powellii), from the old house
Iris, German Bearded, "Before the Storm" (Iris germanica), from the old house
Iris, German Bearded, unknown variety, pale purple (Iris germanica), from the old house
Garlic chives, unknown variety (Allium tuberosum), from the old house
Autumn Sage, white (Salvia gregii, unknown variety)

PARTIAL/DAPPLED SUN
"Serenade" Azalea (Rhododendron x 'Serenade')
Hosta (Hosta spp.) "Patriot" and something that was labeled "Old Glory" but isn't
Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum),  container
Louisiana Iris (Iris x spp.) "Full Eclipse"
Caladuim (Caladium x hortulanum) "White Christmas"

MOSTLY/FULL SHADE
Cyclamen, unknown variety, white (Cyclamen persicum)
Bird's Nest Fern, "Victoria" (Asplenium nidus x 'Victoria') 
Japanese Holly Fern (Cyrtonium falcatum)
Swedish Ivy (Plectranthus verticillatus), container
 

I'm sure I'll add to or change things around in these beds, depending on how things fill in (or don't), and as I learn which plants are happy in their new homes and which aren't. I may also end up planting some things in the yard, or scattering containers about.  I haven't decided yet.

Small Steps, Into An Early Spring

Last week, three things happened:  a Texas Mountain Laurel in my neighborhood burst into bloom, I noticed that many of the trees around were budding and beginning to show new leaves, and a friend texted me a picture of a bluebonnet by the side of the road, fully open.  In early February.  I've lived in Austin all my life, and I've never seen a bluebonnet open before March!  The grasshoppers and katydids are already out and about; and it makes me wonder what the junebug population at this new house looks like. I detest those things.  More than anything, though, it all makes me worried for this summer - how bad is it going to get this year? La Nina is over, and NOAA tells us that we're in kind of a stable place for the moment, but how long will that last? When will the next El Nino pattern begin, and how severe will it be?

Well, whatever happens, for the time being it meant that I got to get my front garden up and running several weeks earlier than I'd planned.  While I'd intended to dig and prep the beds over the winter when it was cold, and let them sit for a while, I never got around to it (too much else to do, and too cold!)  So I ended up doing it all over this past weekend.

Thankfully, the soil in the front beds isn't bad at all - it was planted, once, and while it was then ignored for many years, it was full of good, black soil, a bit of red clay, and underneath it all, the remains of somebody's old rock garden, full of sand and red pumice.  No wonder it drains so well in the rain!

This was taken in December, but until Saturday it stayed about the same - though many more leaves had collected in the beds.  Between these two front beds, and what had blown into drifts on the driveway, I filled up my 96-gallon yard waste bin to capacity with JUST leaves.  Holy crap!

I broke up the soil here with my garden claw, and mixed in a blend of compost, planting mix, and peat moss; and covered the whole thing with hardwood mulch.

I'm hoping, by the way, since there are no gutters on this house, that the mulch will be proof enough against the rain that sheets off the roof, especially in the corner behind the post.  It's supposed to rain frogs tomorrow, so I guess I'll find out.

The next day, I started by disinterring all of the plant scraps I'd harvested from the old house, and which had been heeled into a plastic planter box all winter.  After cleaning them all up and dividing what could be divided, I ended up with 2 garlic chives, 3 pink crinums, and 15 irises! I have no idea which irises are which, by the way - some are light purple, and some are the purple-black "Before the Storm" that I've grown for years.

I also went plant shopping, for the first time in years.  I'd missed doing that, so much!  The nursery folks didn't bat an eyelash, but there was a gentleman at the Lowe's I visited who seemed to be enjoying the sight of a crazy lady petting all the leaves and smelling everything.  Maybe he thought I was stealing things.

And so, for the first time in over twelve years, I got to build a garden, and populate it, completely from scratch - from the ground up, if you will.  (I know, I had to dig deep for that one).  Where my front and back yards were in full sun all day, every day at the old house; the front yard here is almost entirely dappled shade, and the front beds only see a touch of full sun, for a bare three hours a day:

 

I reserved those spots for a couple of lavenders and columbines.  Everything else in the beds are part-full shade, which is an area of gardening I've never really gotten to work with before, so we'll see how it all turns out. 

Here's a direct view of the front entrance.  I matched up plantings right by the sidewalk - chives and azaleas, and blue ceramic pots that need to be planted (there's a fern thrown into one for now, but it isn't staying there).

Except for those matched plantings, everything else in the beds is pretty much only arranged by sun requirements.

New beds look so empty! I did a ton of work over the weekend, and yet this looks like not much is happening.  I can't wait to see it in a few months when everything's huge and fluffy. 

Most of the flower colors here are purple, aside from the pink azaleas.  They won't be up for a while yet, but the empty places in the bed are full of white caladiums, to fill in around the feet of the taller things, and to bring a little light to the shady places.

Back in the corner is a Bird's Nest Fern which is about 2' across.  I've had it in a pot for several months in this corner, and it seems to love it here.  I've wanted one of these every since I saw Paul James with one on his show.  It's surrounded by Japanese Holly Fern, and hostas.  I love hostas, but I haven't been able to grow any for nearly a decade and a half!

The Tree of Things I Don't Know Where To Plant:
A rosemary that was once a Christmas-tree shape, now pruned into a ball wad; and my Earth Box, which is now full of baby Columbine plants that will one day go into the back yard (?).



I'll be back in a couple of days with a list of all the plants that went into these beds, and plans for whatever thing is next.

Cat tax.