Seedling lectures, local animal bile

It has been a busy fall and early winter. Having two children seems like it is twice as much work as one, the Aggie's have actually been good at football for the first time this century and, of course, I've had my work and drinking habit to attend to. Gardening has not fallen completely by the wayside, but writing has.
I have pulled out all of my spring and summer veg and planted my fall garden. In went garlic, radishes, beets, lettuce, spinach, carrots, chard, cilantro and parsley. I originally planted garlic only in my cottage garden, but it hasn't rained since September and my cottage beds get a good soaking only once monthly when it doesn't rain, and those garlic plants were really struggling along. Therefore I added a line of garlic down the center of my vegetable beds.
I planted everything a little more 'square foot gardeningesque' than my last two rounds of vegetables, but still not directly by the book. Not because I thought I could improve on Mr. Bartholomew's design, but because I was in a hurry and just needed to muck on with it. I am proud to say I did do a nice job of preparing the beds by turning them over, adding compost (homemade! I am such a good person!) and organic fertilizer (again, I'm very good). I also worked very hard at keeping the soil moist and germinating my seedlings. I had to really force myself to work at that. I like planning, preparing and planting but the day to day care of a bunch of needy seedlings is drudgery. I tried very hard not to begrudge them (the seedlings) all the trouble they were causing me and almost succeeded, save one or two early morning lectures on the benefits of self sufficiency. Pulling oneself up by the bootstraps and whatnot, which I feel was largely lost on them.
Armadillo Update - they still suck and I still hate them. I can now keep them out of the rock wall garden and to pay me back for my efforts, they have begun to work over the cottage garden. I have basically given up trying to trap them for now. No more skunks, just empty traps and me tired of looking at the wire monstrosity in my garden. One night while shutting everything down, I heard some rustling about, and then threw on the flood lights and beheld a truly massive armadillo getting down to business in my mulch pathway. I grabbed the nearest deadly instrument (always a few handy), a splitting maul / ax, and then stood there and watched the fat bugger slowly waddle off while I came to terms with this fact - I hate armadillos enough to write rude things about them on the Internet, but not enough to bludgeon one to death in the harsh glare of halogen lighting. Or in the dark, or in the daylight. So with this is my only recourse, I say, "Hey, armadillos of northern Hays County, you're really making my life less fun as you look for food and water to survive on. Bastards."
Deer update - they suck less and I hate them less than armadillos. They ate the tops off my three roses in the cottage garden the other night. One thing they don't know, among other things they don't know - deer historically perform poorly at trivial pursuit - is that they aren't really hurting the roses. They tend to stop eating when they hit the thorns and my roses, a mutabilis, an old blush and a knock-out, are tough birds and just bounce back with more vigor. The deer are performing a necessary task for me, acting as my team of gardeners. To them I say, "Hey, deer of northern Hays County, thanks for finally helping out a bit. Don't expect a Christmas bonus, though. Bastards."
Otherwise, the garden is at rest. I am leaving all the perennials untrimmed post frost, due to one part laziness and one part actually enjoying the structure they keep in the garden. I'll trim them in the spring. Hopefully, (for who? me!) I'll write again before then.

November picture

The Flame-Leaf Sumac (Rhus lanceolata) looked very nice for most of the month. You can see the Copper Canyon Daisy (Tagetes lemmonii) in the foreground on the left.

It is October and I still hate armadillos

I made a mistake in a previous post and stated that by October I would stop hating armadillos. I lied. I have no idea why I randomly picked October as the month that my mood towards those lilly-livered, over sized rats with shells (and leprosy, mind you) would shift away from loathing towards benevolence. I guess I thought it would rain more and they would leave me and my garden well enough alone. What an idiot I am. My mulch paths are destroyed anew every night. My front porch is covered with dirt and mulch from the rooting. And, this is the worst, those wallets, belts and boots to be still get in the bed the rock wall was built around! The pre-historic leftovers that they are, they climb under the gate (fixed that - put in a big flagstone), through the wood pile (re-arranged, leaving no holes) and last night I have no idea how they got in.
I decided to put out a trap. It is not my first experience with trapping armadillos. Two years ago, my new cottage garden beds were being destroyed by the vermin and they would root up my newly planted perennials every night. I bought a have-a-heart trap (not that I have much of one for those armour plated flea bags) and bated it with fruit. On morning number two of trapping, I went out to run and there was no armadillo and when I returned in 45 minutes, voila - victory! It was so easy. My plan was to take him down to the creek and let him out. I was so proud of myself, I took some pictures to prove my prowess and mastery of nature and went in to have some breakfast while waiting for the sun to come up. Whilst I was enjoying my oatmeal, Army (yes, I named him) was breaking free, like a little Steve McQueen but more successfully and without a motorcycle. He just kept butting the trap door and sides until it popped up and he was gone.
So, I re-bated the trap again the next night. And again I had some measure of success. This time my trap was full first thing in the morning, but alas, full of a skunk. This presented a bit of an obvious problem. Luckily I have on my vehicle a plastic overall suit and shoulder length plastic gloves (don't ask). I donned my protective gear and started to open the back door of the trap. I had all of the pins removed without being sprayed and had the door 50% open when my new friend lost his cool. The smell of a dead skunk on the road does not do justice to the eye watering, nose incinerating blast of poison air a skunk can deliver at close range. It is a very effective defense mechanism. I wanted very badly to not be there, to not be bothering that skunk. I finished opening the door and, stripping and gagging as I ran, went through the back door to a shower with tomato sauce. Which works neither as a skunk smell remover nor as a lathering agent very well. I stunk for days, the front the house smelled for weeks and I left the armadillos alone.
As you can see, I am very angry at my current batch of armadillos, that I am willing to risk a skunk spraying in order to rid myself of them. I am baiting the trap with grub worms I dig up, which should work seeing as they are what the little beast are after in my garden soil. I hope skunks do not like grub worms as much as old grapes. So far, I've had no luck, good or bad. Just an empty trap and decomposing grubs.

Fall Pictures

Down the main axis of the Cottage Garden.

Lindheimer Senna, Autumn Sage and Rosemary.

Schoolhouse, or Oxblood, Lilly.

Stone wall, completed

I know, it looks short. That is on purpose, to provide seating during the 123rd annual Croquet Tournament this spring. I guess it will provide seating year round, but never will it play as large a role as during our April game. Many an inebriated participant will rest his or her weary rear upon this wall.

I am inordinately proud of my wall. All of the stone came off our property; all of the stone was dug, loaded, hauled and stacked by me. The joy of simple physical labor, when it is not compulsory mind you, cannot be overstated. I don't know which was more satisfying - digging up a really nice rock or stacking a good rock in the right place. In my readings on wall makings, I learned a couple of rules - stack one on two (stagger your seams) and don't cut rocks, find rocks (that fit). I will add two more - one, if you pick up a rock and try to place it in the same spot more than twice, it doesn't fit! Stop trying and throw it back. And two, if you see a rock that would fit in the area you are working on, but really had in your mind to use that rock somewhere else due to it's particular shape and color, just give in and use it now. No matter what you think you planned, a rock wall is not a jigsaw puzzle or math problem, there are no right answers, only wrong decisions that will delay your construction. You see the hole, see the rock - they fit, put it there and move on.

It is very simple. I did mention above my pride was greater than the sum of my accomplishments.

I check out rock walls as I make my daily rounds with more interest now. I have always liked them, but now I judge each wall against my own. Some I win, most I lose. As simple a task as stone masonry is, I have more than just some room for improvement.

Heat, Armadillos and Rocks

I skipped August. It was hot, everything looked like the desert (which I despise, you people can keep your wide open spaces and rocky vistas and sun stroke). I sat inside and wondered why I ever bothered. When it appeared that the majority of plants in a bed were about to die from dehydration I would, accompanied by the constant roar of the airconditioner's condensing unit, go out and lay out a soaker hose. I would water the bed well. In the morning I would wake up to find the bed rototilled by armadillos. I'd go back in to the a/c. This procedure was repeated over and over until it finally rained.
It became September, the heat broke and it rained. Twice. Once it rained 8 inches! Now the garden looks great again. All the plants that I struggled to keep alive are blooming again - russian sage, mealy cup sage, mexican oregano, lantana, pink skullcap, beach vitex and prairie verbena are all in bloom. But the best of the September display is the fall only bloomers. Fall is my favorite season. I know September in Texas is not fall but in fact, just late summer, but with the temperature back in the low 90s and a few rains, some great thing are afoot in the garden. First, oxblood or schoolhouse lillies - small and deep red, they appear with no foliage after the first good rain. Second, mexican bush sage - tall spires of velvety purple blooms. And third but perhaps my favorite, Lindhiemer senna. My dedicated readers will remember the effort I put into replacing my Lindhiemer sennas last spring. It was worth every minute. They provide height, leaf size and texture juxtaposition to most of my natives and beautiful groupings of yellow and black blooms. These plants blooming is the highlight of the garden year.
I have been working, even through the heat associated pouting. I cut down some oak tree limbs that were blocking a path in my cottage garden. I've pulled up last spring's cucumbers and courgettes (which were a big hit - we had courgettes and penne carbonara ala Jamie Oliver and more courgette [alright zucchini, for the love] bread than you can say grace over. Pumpkins are in. I've harvested two acorn squash and another is on the way. Beans, green and dry, are in. I've had little to no luck with beans of all kinds to date, but I like them enough to keep trying. Kohlrabi (what?! - I don't know either) and two summer squash went in today.
I am reading "Square Foot Gardening" and I am really digging (groan) many of his ideas and advice. I think it will make my garden more efficient and enjoyable than just reading the title online and trying to make up what I think square foot garden is. The main thing I've learned thus far is - everyone over plants like I do and it is a foolish thing to do. I over plant, everything sprouts and then I should thin and don't and then I have a mediocre crop of overcrowded and stressed vegetables. This time around, I've only planted what I want to grow, where I want it growing. This has taken more self control than I thought I possessed.
As an aside, I am also reading "The Ivington Diaries" by Monty Don. It is a mix of his diary entries about gardening on his land in England and is very good. He is a natural writer and it hits on to two of my major interest - anglophilia and gardening. You have that book to thank for me getting motivated to blog and again. I know, enough to make you want to burn it, but don't - only real sociopaths get into burning books.
I am building a low rock wall around the garden outside our dining room window. I've wanted to build one for years. I tried oce before, two years ago, but failed. I was using too small a rock, had too narrow a base and one November afternoon, my frustration with the wall met with my frustration at the Aggies losing to Baylor (baylor! really! I'm still mad!) on the radio. This, and the availability of a sledge hammer, made for not a wall, but a small pile of rocks. I didn't feel much better. Two things re-motivated me. One, reading a Charles McRaven book on stone work and two, those pesky armadillos. This rock wall ought to keep them out of their favorite rooting ground. Armadillos's may stand for all thing Texas to you, but I say, support your local gardener - wear armadillo boots. That may be a bit much. How about - don't swerve, he /she has it coming. Still too much? Don't worry, I'll go back to liking them by October or so.

Goodbye, July

July has come and gone. By Texas Hill Country July standards, it was a good one. No 100 degree days . By comparison we had over 75 days that topped 100 degrees last July. Typically, July is 31 days, but last year we were stuck in a sun spot induced "groundhog day syndrome". Every day started with same sound on my alarm and was 105 by 10 am, each day ended with the death of a plant and a little piece of my soul. Come live in the beautiful Texas Hill Country! Also, I should note, my alarm makes the same sound every morning and that does not necessarily signal a time warp. This year, we have also had some rain. Everything is still green and my garden is thriving.
The big news of July is figs. I have a fig tree that came with my house, it is huge and glorious, located in just the right place on the east side of the house. While it is very drought tolerant, the leaves are almost a foot across, making a dramatic contrast to the xeric plants that make up the bulk of my landscape. In the winter, it's branch structure is striking when viewed from any angle. And in July, it makes figs. Lots of figs. And my wife makes fig jam, which, when paired with homemade bread and butter (or peanut butter) is slap-your-momma good. All this being said, I don't love it like I love my other plants. I don't dote on it, point it out to guest or waste any time worrying about it. Why? because I didn't plant it. It is no feat of mine that the right variety (Celeste, I think) was chosen, that it was planted in the perfect microclimate, and that it survived plant childhood and adolescence to become an awesome specimen plant and the only fruit tree in my garden. So, I take no pride in my fig tree. That fig tree would be great without me, and due to a great shallowness on my part, I believe that is not the point of gardening. But I'm thankful, and I sure as hell don't want to lose it. So, Fig Tree, if you are reading this - I'm sorry I ignore you, sorry the only time you get water is when it rains or you steal it from a newly planted nearby perennial. You are the best fig tree I've ever met, please continue your thriving through my neglect.
With that off my chest, time to think about the vegetable garden. The tomatoes are still going. I thought that I could pull them out to start planting my fall garden, but I have a hard time removing plants that still have tomatoes on them. I guess our mild July has extended my growing season. I am just now starting to get okra. While 7 tomatoes plants is too many, 3 okra is too few. Any time I want to eat okra, I have to buy okra in the grocery store to supplement my three or four pods that I've harvested. Embarrassing. Pumpkins seeds are in and sprouting and I am very excited to think of carving and eating home grown pumpkins come late October.
The most amazing thing growing at my house this July has been the baby in my wife's abdomen. On July 29th we welcomed a healthy baby girl to our now family of four. We are so blessed and thankful. I definitely need a bigger garden now.

June already?

Time has past, as you always hope it will, and both my garden and my blog have been neglected. I'll spare you the excuses.

I've become wiser. For one thing, seven tomato plants in a small garden is three or four too many. My entire vegetable garden is one solid mass of tomatoes. New knowledge item number two, people design, market and sell tomato cages for a reason. An indeterminate variety of tomato will stop growing and spreading never, a fact that one would think the word "indeterminate" would have adequately described to me. Determinate varieties are not much better. They have a set end point at which they stop growing. Depending on the plant, that end point is somewhere between bigger than you expected and big enough to obliterate any other plant three feet in any direction. Number three on the educational parade, tobacco hookworms are huge, disgusting and destructive - defoliating half a tomato plant overnight. I had read about them, seen pictures and all but I was unprepared for the reality of their presence in my garden, the first one I saw gave me pause. Four to five inches long, rearing back and roaring (inaudibly to humans, but one look at these monsters and no one can doubt that they at least occasionally roar). I will not dwell on how I deal with these pest, only to say my method is organic and chemical free, not counting any petroleum products used in the production of the soles of my shoes.

So my garden is somewhat of a monoculture. I have a couple of cucumbers, one courgette, one acorn squash, two purple hull peas and two okras. I've harvested many tomatoes of all varieties, excepting the Striped Germans - they were slow to bloom and I am not sure if I will get fruit from them or not. I cannot tell the difference in taste from one variety to another. I also cannot, in a very poorly designed and controlled experiment, tell the difference between homegrown and store bought tomatoes. I know that this makes me a base and pathetic gardener and human, but I guess I don't like tomatoes all that much. I am going to try a much larger and better designed experiment with fresh tomatoes, tomatoes in salsa and bruscetta and tomato sauce. Using myself and my co-workers I will see if there is something wrong with me or if, as my hypothesis will state more thoroughly in the final published paper, tomato mania is a completely contrived expression of humanity searching for bucolic comfort and simple summer afternoons that never existed. Feeling a little low and mean, I was, the day I formulated that hypothesis.

We've had two nice rains, about ten days apart, and my cottage garden continues to thrive. My roses are putting on a second wave of blooms. The Mexican Oregano and Russian Sage are both in bloom, covering one bed in a mass of pastel pink and blue that is very nice indeed. Mixed with some Catmint, both Walker's Low and Six Hill's Giant varieties (both named for gardens in England, yes!) and some Powis Castle (also an English garden, I am on a bloody roll!) Artemesia, the bed has a cooling feel that we in Texas can really use from June until September.

Today, weeding and watering and general maintenance before a trip to the lake to celebrate my wife's and my tenth anniversary. For those wondering "How does she do it? Ten years with this guy? Is she a saint?" You can stick it, I seriously doubt living with you is a cake walk (ummm, cake). And yes, she is a saint.

Garden tour, harvest and planting continue

I went to the Wildflower Center garden tour this weekend, visiting three houses. I realized that I'm starting to develop some strong opinions about garden design and that the only things holding me back from becoming the next Capability Brown are time and money. Also, training and skill and experience. All of these things accepted as given, I still wouldn't trade the three professionally designed and installed gardens for my own. There are some design ideas I will copy - a concrete water trough fountain, a limestone walled court yard that is covered by fig ivy. There are some plants I hadn't seen in real life and will try to use - heart leaf skullcap, oakleaf hydrangea. I would trade the location of the last garden we visited for mine on certain Saturday afternoons, it being within walking distance of The Draught House Pub.
Seeing the court yard reminded me how badly I want to build one of my own. A secluded walled garden with a pea gravel floor, vine covered walls, plants protected from frost and deer, a fireplace, a fountain and a dining table. If you don't like the idea of that, I refuse to help you. I cannot figure out where I will put it, how it will relate to the house, how large I want it. These issues are not that pressing, as I can also not figure out how I will pay for it.
Another idea I saw represented in the gardens on tour was that of mixing vegetables in with perennials or setting aside vegetable space among ornamental gardens. This is an idea that I really like. As I've written previously, I will mix my onions and garlic into my perennial beds from this point on. They are green when other plants are not, they bloom (some of them - I have no idea what makes one onion bloom and the next, not) and then you eat them. If I didn't have deer, I don't think I would bother with a dedicated vegetable garden. I think most of the vegetables I've grown have ornamental value. If you are reading this (anyone?) and are wishing you had a vegetable garden - you do, you oblivious near-do-well! Mix in some swiss chard and cucumber. It will look good, make good use of space and best of all - you'll be really hip. Edible landscapes are all the rage with the bourgeois garden crowd right now. Never pass up an opportunity to do something good, the satisfying feeling you get judging others afterward is hard to replicate.
While we are on the subject of satisfying feelings, I harvested my first handful of Kew peas. Take that, Dripping Springs / London climate disparities. The plants have been healthy and started blooming small white flowers about two weeks ago. While willing my tomatoes to grow, I noticed that they had in fact made peas. This led me to a sad realization. I need a bigger garden. 78 square feet of garden space is not much. I only planted one square foot (I'm sort of using the square foot gardening principle without actually reading the book) of peas and if they keep producing at the current rate, I will never actually make it back to the house without eating my entire harvest of peas first. I eat a lot of sugar snap peas and I'm blown away thinking of how many plants must be involved in the production of my monthly pea dosage. And yes, I might want to actually buy and read "Square Foot Gardening" before claiming it doesn't work and building a bigger garden.
I harvested about 3/4 of my potato, onion and garlic crop, leaving the rest in the ground for an extra 10 days or so, just to see if I jumped the gun with my first harvest. I didn't actually notice a huge difference in the yield between the barrel potatoes and the bed potatoes, ruining my barrel is better hypothesis. The bed potatoes did sprawl everywhere, overrunning onions and courgettes ("get you're common hybrid leaves off my Kew Courgette!" he yelled as the potato lay idly in his bed, unfazed), so I'm sticking with barrels next year anyway. White onions beat red onions 12-3 in the bulb size competition, taste test results are still pending.
Okra, acorn squash and pinkeye purple hull peas are in. I looked for sweet potato slips at a local garden center today, finding none but blank stares. I'll try again tomorrow with more reputable retailers.

April Pictures

I think I need to move the bird bath a little to the right.

Mutabilis Rose - an antique China rose.

Salvia farinacea, Mealycup Sage, one of my favorite natives. Easy, tough, blooms from April until October, and for me, free. It was wild in my yard and just came up through my cottage garden beds the first year.

Potatoes, peas, onions and beyond the fence, rubbish.

My first tomato of the year. Blissfully unaware of the gruesome fate that awaits it once it ripens.

Mid April Update, Soil Testing Delimma

Once again, I've been annoyingly busy with work. The fact that my busy season at work coincides with the start of the spring gardening season is something I will reconcile as soon as possible.
I have, however, found some time to garden and accomplished a few task. First, I finally sent in the soil sample I've been threatening to collect for 6 months now. And the result is - I wish I hadn't. I'm more confused than ever. And the internet isn't helping. My results came back that my phosphorous is sky high, so high that it is probably binding up other vital elements and causing poor growth and chlorosis. I can tolerate many ailments in a plant, but chlorosis gets me down. I hate plants with yellow leaves. I even hate plants that are supposed to have yellow leaves. I believe anyone who has ever had to garden in a region where plants are prone to chlorosis would never buy, or even consider buying, a yellow variegated plant. While we are on the subject, any variegation is tacky in my opinion.
So my phosphorous is high, what to do? A&M sent a handout with recommendation to not add phosphorous fertilizer or high phosphorous compost for 5 to 7 years. Since I am trying to garden organically, and compost is kind the whole point of the organic gardening, and I am not likely to test my compost every 6 months, I was not happy with this turn of events. Some quick googling revealed that my garden phosphorous is at the center of a hotly contested debate. On one side is A&M and on the other is Howard Garrett. A&M's philosophy was outlined within the handout - I had, through excess fertilizer (no) or compost too high in phosphorous (yes - turkey manure compost makes up 1/6 of my garden soil) overloaded my soil with phosphorous and I need to knock it off until the next year of jubilee. Garrett says A&M's test is wrong, that they take no account of how a plant actually uses and uptakes nutrients and my phosphorous is likely fine and that I should continue to add compost and organic fertilizers as need be. Mr. Garrett recommends not testing your soil at A&M, but using a private lab (one he has no monetary association with, I'm sure) that will give radically different results when testing the same soil due to A&M's outdated testing methods. I went to A&M, I have Garrett's book - I'm torn. I'm an evidence based, scientific method kind of guy, so I need to have look at the research and consult some experts. I guess for the spring I'll just keep on adding some of my home made compost when I plant and take it easy on the high phosphorous fertilers (John Dromgooles Flower Power, Medina Hasta Grow).
We had big rain storms at the end of last week and my gardens are officially out of control. My potatoes are all waist high and have blooms. My tomatoes continue to thrive and I even have one little green tomato. The onion, garlic and shallots are still going strong, I understand I am to leave them in the ground until the tops yellow and lay over (in this case, I guess I'll accept yellowing from these plants). Some of the onions are blooming. I pulled out the parlsey and arugula and escarole as they were all bolting, but left in my cilantro to bloom. In the back of my mind I think I read somewhere that cilantro blooms attract beneficial insects, but even if that is not true, I am going to let them go to seed and try to collect my own coriander.
I am having a problem with pill bugs. I think I have too much mulch in my vegetable garden, too close to my plants. They are nibbling any leaves that are too close to the ground, but the real problem is that they have killed two bean plants and three courgettes by eating through the stems. I have read to put out diatamaceous earth. I also read to put out grapefruit halves and just throw the halves, full of pill bugs, away every morning. I think I'll try the grapefruit first, following one of my main rules of gardening - try what is cheap or what you already have on hand. Grapefruit halves meeting both of these criteria.
Back to onions, garlic and shallots - I think next year they will be booted from the vegetable garden to the cottage garden to open up more space. No point in protecting something that nothing really wants to eat. My next experiment in incorporating vegetables into the cottage garden will be okra. I've never grown okra, but from what I can tell their blooms look like hollyhocks. Also, I found okra on a list of plants deer will eat but don't like to. I figure if I tuck them into and behind some of my stinkier and more prickly plants (rosemary and yucca for example), the deer might leave them alone.
I've also made time to buy some plants. Shocking, I know. I bought two Lindhiemer Sennas to replace the ones I lost in the frost (one of which might still be alive, now that I look again), a fig ivy to cover my pump house and an impulse buy of a non-fruiting olive tree (99 cents - how am going to walk away from that). I went to Barton Springs Nursery in Westlake, which is great. The best native plant selection I've seen. The most 4 inch pots of natives I've seen, a real boon to a gardener with more time than money. I know that this blog is starting to look like a review of local garden centers the way I spread my purchasing around, but this place is amazing. The best in town.
Next up for the garden - mowing what little grass I have for our 4th annual croquet tournament (everyone is invited!), drip irrigation, okra seeds, planting my sunflower starts, probably purchasing more plants from some new nursery that I will tell you all about.

Unexpected day in garden, sunflower seeds, more Kew veg

I ended up having some time to work in the garden this afternoon. I wasn't expecting to be free to garden, so I didn't have a plan or list of chores. On my way home form work, I stopped by "Bloom", a nursery in Dripping Springs. Bloom is a very small affair, taking advantage of garden space in one of Dripping Springs few decent eateries (sorry, Sonic), Thyme and Dough. At first, the nausea brought on by the sickening pun of a name kept me away from the establishment, but good eater that I am, I eventually went in. It's a good place - croissants, uppity sandwiches, torts and such. Bloom, while small, is locally owned and run and it shows. The plant selection is spot on, if a plant can grow in Dripping Springs, she has it. I wanted some basil and some mint for containers, which I found. As good readers know, I couldn't leave without buying something I didn't need or have a plan for. This time it was sunflower seeds. At least at $1.79 each for two seed packets, it will be a cheap impulse purchase.
I tried sunflowers twice before, failing each time. A phenomenal feat, to fail to grow what are basically weeds. My first failure was when I lived in Alvin. I chalked up the sunflower's death there to the fact that Alvin, Texas makes you wish you had never been born, or at least died when you were young. The sunflowers probably broke out of the ground, looked at Alvin, looked at me and said "Why?" and died. The next time I killed sunflowers was here in lovely Austin, at a rent house on 38th street. We had a crazy old neighbor lady who peered over the dilapidated fence and gave out bad advice sprinkled with threats ("the last renters at your house left their porch lights on late, like you do. They were broken into. I think the thiefs pick houses with porch lights on late. I wouldn't leave mine on, unless I wanted to be robbed."). She occasionally gave me Alvinesque feelings, but I can't blame the plant's death on her. I killed them my favorite way, neglect. There are many ways to kill plants and, as of this weekend, I'm proud to write that I've done them all. Neglect is best - pick a good plant, put in the right place and then ignore said plant until it is almost dead, at which point you can keep ignoring it or realize your error and try to save it. It doesn't matter -the plant is a goner. Next is ignorance. Putting a plant in the wrong spot, picking the wrong plant, planting at the wrong time, planting incorrectly. They all work. They don't give that good empty feeling like neglect, but ignorance is effective. And last, you can kill by caring for your plant too much. This is well recognized as a sub-category of ignorance, but I list it separately here because it is new to me. Is there any such thing as too much compost, too much organic fertilizer or too much water? Turns out, yes. I killed the ever loving snot out of 7 mexican feather grass this past year. This is a plant that, when left alone, has reseeded and is growing very well in my caliche drive. Amazing.
So this year, sunflowers for the third time. I think I will direct seed some into the garden and start some in peat pots. Surely one or the other will work.
I planted cucumbers and courgettes (British for zucchini) from the Kew seed selection today. Same as with the peas, it felt good just to pretend my garden is in London. The instructions on the back of the seed packets said to start the seeds in sterile seed germination media and then transplant outdoors. I didn't have any such thing around, so I direct seeded them. A quick reference of Garrett and Beck's Organic Texas Gardening, the definitive text, revealed direct seeding is just fine. But I hate to stray from Royal Botanic suggestion, so I will start some transplants at the same time I start the sunflowers.

Late March Photographs of the Vegetable Garden

The garden looking at rear fence.

(Clockwise) current leader in the potato race, peas, porter tomato, onions and early girl tomato.

Late March Photographs of the Cottage Garden

My favorite view down the long axis of the garden.

Prarie Flame-Leaf Sumac, Rhus lanceolata, with new spring growth.

New pot for focal point, Salvia greggi in early bloom, truck tires.

Obligatory Bluebonnet Picture

Most of March in Retrospect

Where has March gone? I've been busy with my vocation, which is great and all that, but I've had limited time in the garden and even less time to blog. And most of the time I could have been blogging has been whiled away in less productive activities, which readers of this blog will be hard pressed to imagine.
In the garden, much is changing. Our last freeze has come and gone. I think. Tomatoes have been transplanted from containers to the beds. I kept one, Matt's Wild Cherry, in a bigger container on the back porch, just because.
My potatoes are all up! The biggest plants are the ones planted whole too early, dug from the beds and transplanted to whiskey barrels intact. Second place goes to - planted too early and left in. Coming in last - the ones I followed the most directions on, waiting to plant and cutting and dusting. The champion spuds in the whiskey barrel have continually been covered with new soil until the barrel is now full. I think tomorrow I am going to hill up some soil on the potatoes in the bed as well.
Without much fanfare I planted some beans and peas the same day I planted my tomatoes. I planted two heirloom varieties - Christmas Lima beans (slow in getting going) and Jacob's Cattle dry beans (apparently with very tasty leaves in the estimation of some insect). I also put in English peas. They are sugar snap peas that came recommended by Kew Royal Botanical Gardens, the package proclaimed. Since Dripping Springs and London have no similarities in climate whatsoever, I assume the peas will die toot suite. But I'll still be happy I bought them. I'd buy poison ivy if it came with a Kew label. My next career move is to become a gardener at Kew, the only real question being which will be my local, The Coach and Horses or The Bell and Crown. The Jolly Gardeners being too obvious. Back to the beans and peas, I inoculated them with rhizobia that are symbiotic with the legumes and allow the plants to fix nitrogen in the soil. I hope this does two things, increase my bean's and pea's thrift and production, while also adding nitrogen to the garden soil for other plants to use.
My other major garden activity this month is watching and waiting for my perennial plants to come back. The first year I planted the cottage garden I got it in late in November and the first freeze wiped out several Mexican Bush and Russian Sage plants. The following spring of waiting for green, giving up and then re-planting was a disappointing experience. The next year, everything came back easy and early. This year, we had the hottest, driest summer ever followed by the coldest winter in 20 some-odd years. 110 and then 8 degrees! Why do I live here? Why do I attempt to garden here? That's it. I'm moving to Kew and going straight to The Jolly Gardeners and, after 5 pints of ordinary, never coming back. I told you that to tell you this - every time I'm in my garden in daylight hours, at least half the time is spent inspecting perennials for signs of growth. I'm still waiting on 3 purple trailing Lantanas, 1 native Lantana, 1 Mexican Bush Sage, 2 Lindhiemer's Sennas. I think I will be saddest about losing the Sennas.
If the trailing Lantana doesn't come back, they will be replaced by Pink Skullcap - Scutellaria Suffrutescens. I think Pink Skullcap's evergreen and miniature shrubby nature will make it a better choice for lining the entrance walk than Lantana. They certainly handle severe heat and drought better than Lantana, something I was shocked to see last summer. Could this entire weather cycle have been sent down upon us to force me to rectify cottage garden design mistakes? Probably.

Tomatoes!

I bought tomato transplants on Wednesday. It was very exciting.
Many people wax rhapsodic when comes to fresh garden tomatoes. A song by Guy Clark comes to mind. I am not one of those people. I like them, but my palate is not refined enough to tell a huge difference between fresh and store bought tomatoes for the most part. Maybe store tomato quality is increasing, or all the home grown nightshades I've had were poorly grown, I've just never been blown away by taste differences.
So why, if I'm underwhelmed by tomatoes, was Wednesday's purchase exciting? First, every novice gardener starts with tomatoes; so tomato transplants look, smell and feel like gardening to me. They scream spring time and sunshine from their black plastic containers. Second, this is the year that I grow a tomato that I will have no choice but to write a song about. This year I will no longer be blase' about my fruit. I am growing different varieties than ever before and I'm a more dedicated gardener than ever before.
I was planning on going to a community garden sale this morning. The sale is famous for it's tomato varieties and I was prepared to go and procure only the very best and sexiest heirloom tomatoes for my garden. Then Celelia Nasti, via her weekly radio spot on KUT's Folk Ways called "Growing Concerns", announced that while the sale is great, it is over crowded and you needed to get there at 5 am to stand in line or be relegated to buying spindly left over crap once all the really good gardeners have picked the place over. The sale is for a good cause and there are worse groups of people to stand in line with than gardeners, but her description of the event was enough to put me off. Which was probably her plan, saving all the good stuff for her and her bourgeois radio gardening cronies. I wouldn't put that past someone with a last name like Nasti.
Her plan worked and I bought garden center tomatoes. We went to The Great Outdoors on South Congress in Austin. For those not familiar with Austin, South Congress is the main road in the zip code (triumphant trumpet music, please!) 78704, the epicenter of all things hip and ironic. How could I go wrong with ironic tomatoes. The Great Outdoors is a very nice garden center with a coffee shop and one of the mangers there is also a a nondenominational pastor of some sort who once officiated a wedding I attended. 78704 indeed. They had a phenomenal tomato selection, including several of the heirloom varieties that I had researched to buy at the community garden sale. Take that Cecelia.
I bought the common hybrids - Better Bush, Early Girl and Bush Celebrity
and the heirlooms - Porter, Brandywine Black, Striped German and Matt's Wild Cherry (how am I supposed to resist that?)
It is too early to put tomatoes in the ground in Dripping Springs. The chance of freeze is still too high for a week to 10 days or so. I could plant them if I had a way to protect them, but I don't. So I put my transplants in pots on the back porch for couple of weeks. My plan is that I planted them deeper in the pots and they can grow new roots, then I'll plant them deeper in the garden beds for even more roots. For those reading this blog to pick up gardening tips (a bad idea), tomatoes are the only plant I know of that responds to be planted too deeply by growing new roots, everything else dies. Also, while in pots than can get used to cooler night time temperatures without the danger of a freeze - I'll just pull them all in if it looks too close to 32.
A brief word about Texas weather. Please note on Sunday one week it was too sunny and nice to post much and on Tuesday the same week, it snowed. I find that interesting and could bang on and on about it, but I know every region of the world is fascinated with it's own weather pattern and the rest of the world could give a damn, so I'll spare us all.

Saturday in the Garden

I only had the afternoon to work in the garden, so I didn't accomplish much. There was also a pint of Guinness and two bowls of pipe tobacco involved in my lack of pastoral achievement. I know some people can smoke a pipe and work - my father speaks of his father, Jim, smoking a pipe all day day while framing a house. I can do neither. If I am smoking a pipe, that is basically my activity of the moment. I can think while I do it, sometimes talk and / or walk but the minute I add another facet, my pipe goes out. Then I have to stop and tamp and re-light. I guess it is not that I don't do other task while smoking, it just multiplies the time needed by about two to three hundred percent. Also, the mellow and contented feeling I get from smoking a pipe makes me two to three hundred percent more likely to sit down with a pint and admire the fruits of my labors, such as they are.
Of the not much accomplished -the great potato experiment of 2010 continues. I implemented my plan of planting potatoes in whiskey barrels to free up garden space and allow me to mound soil on my potato plants to get more production per plant. In one barrel I planted the left over seed potatoes I had. On Wednesday I cut the potatoes into sections with two to three "eyes" per section and then dusted the cut ends with ashes from my fireplace. Most sources say to dust your cut ends with sulfur powder, but my organic gardening book also recommends ashes. I don't have sulfur, but I'm over-run ashes. I am not so organic as lazy and cheap. By Saturday my cut potatoes looked a little withered by the cut edges. Is that bad, would sulfur have prevented that? So my withered, sooty cut potatoes went in one barrel. In the other barrel I planted some of the potatoes that had already been in the ground in my raised beds. I had originally put in about 9 potatoes in 5 square feet or so, and after some thought, decided that was way to much space to give over to potatoes. So I dug up 5 potatoes (leaving 2 square feet of potatoes planted) and moved them to the second barrel. I knew the planted potatoes were still in decent shape from previous snooping, but much to my surprise the ones I dug up had finally started to sprout and root. They looked really nice, healthy and well adjusted as I ripped them from their homes. So now I wonder if they will survive the transplant. I also wonder this - why can't I leave well enough alone? why am I constantly make grand garden experiments out of simple planting procedures? what is my fascination with meddling? Any insight or answers to these questions can be kept to yourself, dear reader.
I also put out some granular fertilizer (LadyBug brand 8-2-4 by our local garden center / garden show host / garden king - John Dromgoole) and sprayed some Medina Hast-a-Grow mixed with SuperThrive. Why most gardening organics have to have cheesy names is beyond me, but if SuperThrive ever makes a radio commercial, I recommend strongly they invest in the rights to "Superfreak" and then just make the obvious change in lyrics for their own use. I already sing it my head every time I use it. SuperThrive is a mix of vitamins, minerals and voodoo with a crazy label covered in marijuana induced, incoherent, left over hippy babbeling rivaled only by those Dr. Bronner's soap containers that are so creepy I don't even like them in the shower with me. SuperThrive's label is more 1950's optimism and less 1970's pseudo-religion, but that much lunacy in print gets you lumped into the same category with me.
Anyway about it, I fertilized. I think I needed to, but don't know because I still haven't done a soil test. But I did look as though I knew all about soil fertility and other deep subjects as I smoked my pipe.

Snow pictures!

What will snow do to my perennials? Onions, potatoes? Who cares, it was beautiful and we loved it.

Too sunny and nice out to post much

Enjoy this photo of my fennel and I'll have more later this week.

Potato Update

My potatoes are still not up. I read it can take three weeks, so I'm not too worried just yet. But all the same, I am making alternate plans. I watched Central Texas Gardener this morning and Trisha Shirey (one of the segment host) gave a concise five minute lecture on growing potatoes. I am now convinced I put mine in too soon. She discussed buying your seed potatoes early and letting them sprout some before planting, splitting the big potatoes and dusting the cut edges with sulfur powder and how to plant potatoes in containers. If my first planting is a failure, I think my next planting is going to be in some old half whiskey barrels I inherited with my house. Trisha showed, and I've read of similar techniques in The Texas Gardener magazine, to only fill the container up 1/4 of the way then plant your potato and then keep covering a large percentage of the new growth until your container is mostly full. That way you maximize production in a vertical space.
The whole scenario reminds of a sign one of my high school teachers had on his blackboard - One doesn't plan to fail, one buys and plants potatoes too soon and then ends up doing most of one's research by accident whilst listening to the radio and watching tv and then one has to plant all over again. The proverb didn't make much since at the time but now the veracity of it strikes home and it seems like one of those elemental truths in life.
For those not in the know - Central Texas Gardener is a local PBS program that is very well done and is chock-o-block full of good information. It opens with a tour of a local, usually private garden. They show the garden from various camera angles and interview the gardener. The only downside to the tour is that the producers pair it with these calming instrumental pieces of background music. The music may be what some consider really good, in a town like Austin you would think so, but it makes me want to simultaneously vomit and weep. And neither gardening nor music should make you feel that way. The show is hosted by Tom Spencer, who has a good manner about him as he interviews a weekly guest. He also host a weekly radio show that is one of the better in Austin. I met him at a party one time and while I was in awe of the celebrity in our midst, everyone else, including Tom, couldn't figure out why I was so excited to meet him. I think that is all one needs to learn about Central Texas Gardener from me.

More winter chores, onions

As promised, it was a busy weekend in the garden. I planted onions - I didn't want to grow only onions this spring, so I limited my planting in the garden to two square feet. From my vegetable garden planting, I should get about 10 green and 10 mature onions. That left me about 50 starts of each variety to do something with ($1.99 will by you a load of onions). Since my garlic is holding it's own in the cottage garden (the deer nibbled on one and left the rest alone - a sure sign of deer disgust), I planted the rest of the onions in little groups of 3, 5 or 7 in my cottage garden. I hope they make it.
I planted my 4 inch perennials in my new bed, ensuring it will be voted the perennial border most likely to make Monet wish he had never held a paint brush.
In my much paths in the cottage garden I found the basal rosettes of three mexican hats and two native verbenas growing. I dug them all up and transplanted them, the verbenas to the garden beds and the mexican hats to the berm created by my stream bed. It has been my experience that verbena transplants better than mexican hat (a tap root involved, maybe?). Another good native to transplant is the mealy cup sage, a plant that is very high on my list of native plants that are great garden citizens.
While on the subject of moving plants, I posted lately that I read that you can root stems from Artemesia. I tried it with several stems of varying lengths and woodiness. They immediately wilted as though I had thrown them out in the August sun. They have not completely given up two days later, but I don't hold out much hope.
I trimmed back more perennials on Saturday. My bi-color iris plants were completely browned by the 8 degree freeze three weekends ago. I trimmed them to the ground and can only hope they will come back. They have never died all the way to the ground before. I also trimmed some lantana that I had been ignoring for two months. I came up with a simple yet ingenious plan to use my stemy perennial trimmings to mulch the paths in my vegetable garden, which was becoming a delightful mix of weeds and mud I call abandoned lot contemporary. The trimmings as mulch is not very much easier on the eyes, but it serves its purpose and I admire my utility.
Next up - installing drip irrigation in all my beds. I already have it in my largest cottage bed. Getting it in place requires crawling around in the beds, so I need a weekend that is dry enough that I will not overly compact my soil. I need to finish before all the perennials come back as it is much easy to lay the tubing without plants in the way. Also on that dry weekend is the much discussed, yet never implemented soil testing.

Cilantro, beets, carrots

Cottage garden in winter

Shades of green, grey and brown. I think it still holds its own. Color is coming - a few poppy seedlings are breaking through the mulch and the mealy cup sage is already coming back from our big freeze. If it was all color, all year long, I think it it would bore me dreadfully.

Why I only accomplish a little bit each day in the garden

Raised beds are the perfect height to sit and have a pint.

Onion Starts, Potatoes

At far end of photo - two rows of onions. The barren space in the fore ground is where the potatoes are. Looks like barren ground, but that is where the potatoes are.

Bought Onions starts today

I had a cancellation at work due to the torrential rain and used the time to run by The Natural Gardener in Bee Caves. The Natural Gardener is a great local nursery that is all organic and very Austin - it is owned by the same fellow who does our local gardening radio show and the store has his old hippie vibe.
I couldn't find the vegetables at first and then I was sucked in by the display of perennials in 4 inch pots. Standing in front of the racks of plants, I blacked out and when I came to, I was holding a Gregg's Salvia, a Pink Skull Cap and a Purple Verbena. I couldn't figure out just how this all had transpired, so I thought it best just to buy them. This kind of cosmic intervention is frustrating to me because it undermines my well thought out garden plans.
Almost my favorite part of gardening, especially in my cottage gardening, is the planning. The design aspect is at least half the fun. I like to sit down at my desk with measurements and graph paper and draw out beds, go through all of my gardening texts and then fill my new beds with plants. I group the plants based on color, size , light and water requirements, my needs and wants for the area. I did this before I built my cottage beds and then followed my plan when planting. And then an episode like the one described above happened. Again. And again. I see a plant I know I like and I buy it. I see a plant I've read about but don't have and I buy it. Someone gives me transplants and I take them. I get home with my new plants and throw them in the ground wherever I can fit them. Within two years, my meticulously planned cottage garden looks like it was designed by Gertrude Jekyll's deranged twin brother, Mr. Hyde (Groan!) I digress somewhat, but I've done it again. I have no idea where I'm putting these plants.
I did buy onion starts. When I found the vegetable area and walked in, the aroma of onions announced that I had my timing right. I bought yellow granex (the same onion that becomes a sweet vidallia when grown in Vidallia, Georgia) and a southern belle red. They will go in the ground this weekend. It is going to be a busy weekend in the garden, I'll have a big update ready next week.

Let the spring planting begin?

In a climate like ours in the Texas Hill Country the only season that stands alone is summer. Fall morphs into winter which mixes freely with spring. I still have some of my fall garden going - carrots, broccoli, fennel and parsley. Then I have some garden constituents that should really be considered winter residents (in Texas, at least) - garlic, shallots, cilantro. And now I've started planting for the spring. I might be two or three weeks ahead of schedule but some Red LasSoda potatoes went in the ground last Sunday. I heard our local radio organic garden guru (think of a braided ponytail with a voice like Garrison Keillor with a smoking habit) say today I should have waited, but it was too late, the spuds are in. If I can find some good starts onions are going in soon, too. I have been reading instructions to slightly over-plant the onions (one start every 2-3 inches) and then you can harvest green ones as a way of thinning. And who does not like green onions? My first fall of planting shows that I have little faith in seeds sprouting and therefore I over-plant everything. It is nice to find a vegetable that rewards doubt.

Success, new idea, open call for vegetables

You saw the rain totals for Dripping Springs. 3-4 inches, at least. Well, my stream bed held up, diverted water and looks better than ever. I think I like it. I wish to increase the height of the soil on the bridge at the end to accentuate it's bridgeness. Otherwise, I declare success.
All my Artemesia "Powis Castle" are looking ragged. While checking on the safety of trimming them at this time of year I came across instructions for propagation. Apparently, if you trim them you can plant the stems you remove and with minimal attention (water) in 6 months, voila, a new artemesia. I am going to try it and will report back in June.
If you have vegetables you want planted or varieties to recommend - call, email or comment now while garden space is still available.

Winter Chores

I spent yesterday morning alternating between gathering rocks for the dry stream bed and trimming back perennials. Switching back and forth between two mundane task made it easier to keep plowing on.
I never would have believed how long it is taking to gather the rocks for the stream bed. I am trying to get a variation in size, focusing on fist sized and smaller, to give a natural look you can walk on with out twisting your ankles. I have a never ending supply of rocks, but getting them in the wheel barrow is a tedious business. I believe everyone will be impressed when they see it, or least pretend to be, or risk having their head cracked by one of the larger rocks. I have also found this out - in a relatively small space (within an acre), I have two very distinct types of limestone. I like the one I have less of.
Trimming was fun because I received a new set of Felco pruners for Christmas from my parents. They are great - very sleek and professional. I promise to take care of them, unlike every other piece of equipment I've ever owned for any use. These will be different, hide and watch.
Plant propagation news -
1) When I was trimming I noticed that two of my plant varieties, the Trailing Lantana and Beach Vitex, had put down roots along various parts of the their trailing stems. I devised and implemented an ingenious plan whereas I trimmed the main plants back to 3" or so (like normal) but when I came to a rooted stem, I left it in place and trimmed it back to 3" as well. In the spring, my rooted stems should function autonomously and I will then dig them up and plant them in a new location of my choosing. I am an evil genius.
2) I have collected a large number of seeds from my Lindheimer Sennas and I am conducting a scientific experiment with them. Albeit a very low level and basic experiment. Last year I collected seeds from the sennas, planted them and grew jack all. This year, I collected seeds and have divided them into four groups a) to be planted now b) the be planted after soaking in water for 24 hours c) to be planted in the spring d) to be planted in the spring after soaking in water for 24 hours. I am planting all four groups in my new raised bed, hopefully negating variables like soil, exposure and watering. By early this summer I will have found out how and when to plant Lindheimer Senna seeds for maximum plant production! (for me, this year, excluding any other variables I failed to consider).

I've been busy, OK?

Long time without a post and not a single complaint from you, dear reader? You are very patient. I appreciate that.
A whirlwind update of the last 45 days -
The first frost has come and gone - about November 30th. I harvested pumpkins, gourds, some green beans and lots of squash before they died. I never harvested any Lima beans, black eyed peas or cucumbers. Too late a start and not enough fertilizer, I think.
I still have most of my beets, although every now and then I pull one and they are nowhere near ready. I believe I should have thinned them more aggressively. The Detroit red seemed really susceptible to frost - I lost most of them - while the cylindra and yellow are still going strong. Shouldn't something named Detroit be cold tolerant? They are further north in the bed than the other two, maybe just less protected. Micro-climates are very interesting to me.
My Chard froze back a bit but is coming on again. The fennel, parsley, dill, broccoli, rocket and cilantro are all doing well. I harvested the first bunch of carrots, they were good and easy. The next planting, parisian carrots, is coming on well. My garlic and shallots are doing well, too. On garlic - last spring a client gave some elephant garlic bulbs that I planted in my cottage garden beds. They promptly died, or so I thought, because now they are back. I am going to watch and see how they do with the deer and neglect - if they do well out there I'm not waisting valuable vegetable garden space on them again. On deer, they got in my new bed and pulled up my new winter savory, ate most of my yaupon and old blush rose, left some hoof prints and manure and then did not even leave a thank you. They did mow down some grass next to the bed that needed it, however.
Next up - some pictures. Time to trim back all my perennials, put out more drip irrigation and re-mulch. My dry stream bed nears completion and during an easy test rain this week, seemed very functional.