Rock Star

Linda and Missy

My aunt, Linda Williams, is a rock star.  Her Central Point, Oregon rock garden is a real stunner and has legions of fans.  I consider myself her #1 groupie.

Linda and I are the same age.  The two of us have been close our whole life and it is such a treat to garden together.  Linda is very creative and has an artist’s eye for color and placement.  She’s one of those crafty people too and always amazes me with her latest sewing project, table mosaic, stained glass, needlework or even a batch of cookies.  I am the absolute Plain Jane in comparison.  Lucky for me she doesn’t mind when I totally steal her great ideas.  And let me tell you, her garden is an idea worthy of grand theft.

Street view of Linda's garden.

When she purchased a new home on a bare lot in 2006, she wanted to create an ever-changing canvas that would handle the south facing Southern Oregon summer heat.  She was inspired by nearby resident Kathy Allen, whose extensive rock garden was featured in Sunset Magazine. The two women met at the Jackson County Master Gardener Plant Sale, which Kathy regularly participates in.

The tall front berm. 

Linda wanted to do something dramatic, so the two of us went to work.  I advised her to use nondescript rocks to create height for her berms instead of just piling soil.  That way the mounds would keep their original shape instead of slowly sinking away.  As luck would have it, we drove by the Crater Rock Museum on the way to collecting rock along the highway, and saw that the recent remodel had yielded two large piles of broken concrete.  The serendipity was too much to pass up.  The museum was thrilled to have us haul away the debris and thus the bones of the garden were born.

Linda uses gravel in walkways.

Small berm next to walkway

Linda’s home was in a new development so the builder still had topsoil in the area to landscape the remaining houses.  After assembling the concrete mound, we (and my husband Ed) hauled the soil to cover and shape the garden.  Linda then placed her “pretty” rocks throughout and finished the rest of the landscaping.

Blue cascade of glass pebbles

She has also used several other elements in her landscape; glass, wood, and ceramics also play a part to create a sense of whimsy throughout. She purchased many of her plants from Kathy Allen, but picks up new ones at various nurseries and sales. Her plant collection now yields enough starts for her to sell at yard sales and share with fellow enthusiasts.  She installed drip irrigation to water the yard about once a month, even during the hot summer.

One of her color "wallops"

Art glass on a hanger.

When asked what advice she has for people who'd like to copy her yard she says,  “Go for it - small or large scale.  Dig deep for the scavenger in yourself and start collecting plants and rocks you like.”  She has found that the easiest to grow are Hens and Chicks (Sempervivum tectorum) and likes all the colorful varieties.  Her favorite plants in the collection are mini Coral Bells. “I just love the rock garden flowers.  Small petite plants with a wallop of color. “

Linda crafts her own globes.  I love this one next to the strawberries.

The "old man" rock

Petrified volcanic ash.

The garden is constantly evolving as plants or rocks are replaced and rearranged.  The kaleidoscope of color she has created with both rock and plants is stunning no matter what time of year.   It’s been such a success that friends and family have her helping to create more rock gardens at their homes.   Her neighbors are fans too; Linda says they are always commenting, “You did this yourself!”

Part of Linda's heart rock collection

My favorite part of visiting her yard is discovering some new little vignette.


It’s a garden to savor and not to be viewed in a rush.  Just looking at all that rock we moved usually causes us to collapse in a chair to talk about where each stone came from.

It’s a long conversation.

Localized Riots

Small riots have broken out in my yard.  Lucky for me they don’t cause any damage and the only time I have to call in the SWAT team is when the mosquitoes get bad.  Instead, my localized disturbances are a delight to behold and I sometimes find myself clapping and giggling with the discovery.  I’m talking about color riots.

I have an average size lot and house for my neighborhood, about .18 of an acre.  It gives me a nice area to garden in both front and back, without over whelming me with work.  No sweeping lawns or vistas here since my landscaping drifts consist of three plants at the most.  The yard is best appreciated in small bites and vignettes, which is why I love my little color riots so much.

Gardening provides many such moments where, out of the corner of your eye, you catch some tiny wonderment.  Yesterday I was out weeding and two Anole lizards were Tarzan-leaping through the foliage.  I could almost hear the roar of lions and screams of apes as they traveled from leaf to leaf,  making soft “splat” sounds as they landed.  It was then that I noticed this combination of flowers.  I love how the white rose peeks through with the laughing Gaillardia and the wispy pink phlox.

When I refilled my watering can from the rain barrel these characters demanded notice.  In the breeze the orange California poppies dance around the red mountain stage like Moulin Rouge can-can girls.  Careful boys, you’ll loose your hearts with these!

In the backyard, my ‘Crimson Glory’ rose winds through mealy blue sage for another fluff of color and distracts me from turning the compost.

Underneath the grapevine, Nasturtiums turn their faces to the sun and brighten a planter.  

My yard-art chickens and pig cavort through the pink Missouri primroses that are taking over the walkway.  

As I return my digging fork to the garage I walk by a shady spot with wild petunias and purple oxalis having nothing to do with the quiet greenery.  Look at me NOW they call.

And finally, the true riot of color, my wildflower area.  I have offloaded several bags of seeds in this bed and this year with the rains it has really paid off.  These red poppies captivate me every time and completely dominate your eyes.  Never mind that the other flowers are amazing.  

I’d like to brag that all of this was planned but the truth is that in true riot fashion, most of it is by accident.  As a gardener you have a vision of what COULD be, but the true delight is the discovery of what actually happens.  This is why I torture my visitors with yard tours where I point out these little moments and try to share the wonder.  Lucky for me I have patient friends and neighbors whom every now and then see what all the fuss is about.  No riot gear required.

A Spot of English "T"

I am a repressed English Cottage-style gardener.

Thyme as of March 2012, one year after transplanting.

For years I have cultivated huge delphiniums, lush peonies, lilies and bulbs of every kind, hellebores, violets, hydrangeas, witch hazels, all of which were inspired from the pages of Fine Gardening magazine.

Then I moved to Austin Texas.  Goodbye big-leaf lush flower water-sucking landscape, hello prickly pear and agave!

The transition has been interesting to say the least, and I still have people saying to me “oh, that won’t survive here”.  The latest casualty is my love affair with hardy fuchsias.  I think of my shrub back in Oregon and tears spring to my eyes.  The bees!  The hummingbirds!  Those dainty little flowers!  The crispy critter it would become in the hot Texas sun!

I’ve repressed most of my urges and have swallowed the “I only plant native” kool-aid mostly for gardening survival.  I only dabble on the edges to see what part of my old gardening life I can get away with in Austin.  I have made a happy discovery.  I can grow Thyme between my pavers.

I’ve always loved the different varieties of Thyme, both culinary and those best suited for landscaping (woolly thyme is not the most pleasant thing to eat) all of which are easy to grow in Oregon.  However there has always been one particular variety that has always impressed me with it’s robust growth habit, tolerance to clay soils, and most important, didn’t need watering; Thymus serpyllum, or Creeping Thyme.  It forms loose mats that you can even walk on.   Yes, yes, in Western Oregon it rains all the time.  However there is a drought period from July 5 to October 15 where it doesn’t rain much at all and my Willamette Valley Dayton soil would crack open from thirst.  I never watered my creeping thyme and it thrived from year to year.

Would it grow in Austin?  More importantly, would it SURVIVE in Austin?  I was determined to find out.

Since I had no idea if it would survive here, I opted to grow my own plants.  The area I wanted to plant in is 120 square feet and would have taken at least 5 flats of plants that could cost $150 to $250.  So I ordered a ¼ ounce of seed from one of my favorite Oregon seed sources, Territorial Seed Company.  They are very nice folks and are even recommended as a supplier by the Travis County Master Gardeners because they sell many of the recommended varieties.  Lucky for me they have a large mail-order business.

Planting bed.  You can tell where the soaker hoses were!  Seeds planted October 2011

I planted the seed in October 2010 in one of my 6’ x 4’ raised beds.  I scattered the seeds evenly in the bed to encourage it to grow into a mat.  I watered them regularly through the summer and fertilized them once.  (I use homemade compost high in organic material in all my planting beds so don’t have to fertilize often.)

Transplanting the plugs March 2011

In March 2011 I cut 4 to 5 inch “plugs” out of the planting bed and transplanted them in between limestone pavers I had half buried in bark mulch.  I spaced the pavers and the plants  6 inches to a foot apart, making them true stepping-stones versus a spaced paved area.  My thinking was that with the summer heat load the pavers would fry the plants if everything were too close together.  By spacing them out I gave the new plants some breathing and cooling room to grow.  I tucked bark mulch around the plants to also buffer them from the heat.

My garden was on a tour in May and they made it fine through the foot traffic.  During the run of those 100 degree days we had Summer 2011 I hand watered every other week or so.

And now?  They survived!  I lost a few plants that got shaded out by my monster Mutabilis roses, but for the most part the planting is thriving.  A few weeks ago they really started growing again so I watered in some fish fertilizer and now they are deep green and getting ready to bloom.  I am thrilled and plan on seeding in a new bed this fall so I can extend my pavers.

For me, the key takeaways are these:

1. Plant your own plugs.  My plants had well established root systems that hadn’t been constrained by pots.
2. Mind your heat load.  
3. Give them room to grow. 
4. Mulch around the new plantings.  Eventually the plants will cover the mulch if you are not crazy about the look. 

Could someone living on the escarpment do this?  I’m not sure.  My clay soil was not amended, but it IS soil.

Please share your experiences in the comments section.  I’m curious to know what successes, challenges, or crispy critters you’ve grown.

Petal Pruner

Today I finished pruning my roses and my fruit trees like a dutiful daughter finishing her chores.  It’s February, and that means that it’s time to lop off the exuberance of the past growing season while the plant is still dormant.

Except my roses never go dormant here in Austin.  All winter they put on new growth, bloom, and otherwise carry on as if it were spring.  It’s winter, I tell them, time to go to sleep, it’s way past your bedtime.  Like errant teenagers they flounce and ignore me.  Ed is no help.  He likes practicing his guitar while the roses outside the window dance and nod with appreciation.

Discipline must be enforced.  If I don’t prune them they get too big, the canes rub against each other and weaken, and I can’t barbecue or open the windows because there are plants in the way.  It’s for their own good.  It hurts me way more than it hurts them.  Where have I heard that before?

But like my own well-intentioned parents, I must bring the roses back into form.  I snip, I lop; all while the bees buzz around me gathering nectar and pollen.  Petal after petal falls into the wheelbarrow.  All the while I keep my internal mantra of “they will grow back, they will bloom again, ohmmmm” going full blast in my head lest I weaken.

There are so many things in life I don’t want to do but force myself into for the greater good.  Going to work springs to mind.  Not eating that second piece of pie.  Doing my taxes.  Driving under the speed limit.  Cleaning the cat box. Not flipping off the 432nd person to cut me off in traffic.  Confronting a friend with something unpleasant.  Scrubbing the shower.  The list goes on.  None of them earth shaking or game changing, but all things I need to gird myself up for.  All any of us want in life is to be like my roses – dance in the sun, bloom, make people smile, ignore the weather and warnings that we must sleep.  And when someone comes along and prunes us to the ground, we gather our strength and come right back even more beautiful.

I wheel the chopped roses to my compost and fork them into a bin.  I sprinkle some coffee grounds over the top and cover with leaves.  In just a few hours their remains will heat up and dance with the microbes.  The party never ends.  Now back to my taxes.

Big Bend National Park - The Jewel of Texas

View from "The Window" in the Chisos

I spent Christmas day hiking in Big Bend National Park in west Texas.  I can think of no better way to celebrate all things spiritual than to stand in the Chisos Mountains and gaze across the Chihuahuan Desert.  I lost my heart out there while discovering this absolute gem of a spot along the big bend of the Rio Grande.

The ash deposits at Cerro Castelan

The amazing thing about this place is the distinct and different ecosystems all contained within the same area.  You have the flood plain of the Rio Grande, the desert plain of the Chihuahuan, and the cloud-brushing reach of the Chisos.  Our visit was very brief but we tried at least to drive through each area to appreciate its beauty and wonder.  We saw volcanic ash deposits that looked like they were dumped just yesterday.  In fact the interpretive sign compared the area to a photo of Mount Saint Helens.  The difference is that the ash piles in Big Bend are millions of years old and are as hard as a rock.  It reminded me of Crater Lake in that respect.

The Chisos Mountains are volcanic in origin and reminded me a lot of the steep rock faces of the Columbia Gorge.  The mountains form a basin that has kept a little Eden away from the desert.  There is more rainfall in the basin than in the surrounding plains, and as a result the prickly pear and agave grow along side my old friends the Madrone and Douglas fir.  The plants are remnants from millennia past when the area was more temperate.  Black Bear and Cougar roam these parts along with Javelina.  I felt so at home in this area because it was a little Texas and a little Northwest – just like me!

Of course the soaring landscape was only part of the show.  I had my nose to the ground most of the time looking at plants and cool rocks.  As we hiked along the Window trail we traversed over a rainbow of scree.  It was only a 6-mile round trip but I had to stop every few feet to take photos.  I rued my cheap camera but the truth is that no lens, or even the human eye actually, can capture the beauty and majesty of this place.  I bought the DVD at the gift shop to send to Oregon for family to see.  When I got home and watched it I felt a little better – because even the professional photos were crap compared to the real thing.

Snow on Agave flower stalk.

A storm had swept over west Texas and we actually got snow December 23rd and 24th.  We drove down to the park with snow on the ground.  We had our chains, snow shovel, etc that we always carry in winter, but didn’t have to use.  The snow was very dry and there wasn’t much ice.  This weather actually turned into a special treat because we were able to visit the park while it still had a bit of a covering.  There is nothing like seeing agave flower stalks dusted in white thrust up against that violet-blue Texas sky.  The Yucca, Sotol, and prickly pear were all decorated in a magical way.  We feel very fortunate to have been there.

It is about a ten-hour drive from Austin, but it goes quickly because of the scenery.  The arid Texas panhandle makes it possible to see all of the geologic formations.  Texas was covered in a sea at one time and the stratum of the seafloor is really beautiful.  The colors are in near perfect horizontal bands of red, orange, yellow and white.  You can just imagine the creatures that once swam there.

Purple prickly pear

 I love how the sea floor now sports colonies of prickly pear where the coral must have once grown.  Just outside of Marathon Texas we drove through an astrobleme.  It is a huge area and I can’t even imagine what type of meteor collision caused it.  Between Fort Stockton and hill country giant windmills have been installed atop the mesas to harness the famous panhandle wind tunnel.  What is interesting here is that oil wells are still active and wooden windmills still pump water into livestock water cisterns.  It is an amazing juxtaposition of new and old technology that people have employed to exploit the area.  Against that skyline the attempts seem puny.

We went through Marfa Texas to visit an art museum and to go to the observatory.  Unfortunately the McDonald Observatory was closed since it was snowing – something about limited visibility.  We went to the Chinati Foundation art museum, which occupies a former army installation.  It features modern art that we were told by other visitors that is very famous.  The art is in the form of minimalist installations of stainless steel cubes, neon lights, metal and concrete statuary, plus a vignette of an abandoned Soviet classroom.  Here is the link: http://www.chinati.org
I tried really hard but could not appreciate any of it.  It was too cerebral for me and it seemed so arrogant and small to have a bunch of boxes in a room when outside the window that magnificent landscape stretched far into the horizon.  There was no attempt by the artist (who created the whole place) to celebrate the stunning natural beauty around him.  I found the play of light on the spears of yucca and the cubist forms of the eroded landscape much more moving.  I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic.  Note to self:  don’t pay admission to modern art galleries in future (although I LOVE Jackson Pollock – just to show I’m not a complete cretin.)

In whole that part of Texas gets under your skin and you can’t shake it.  I am going to try to go back in April to try to see the prickly pear in bloom.  There are a couple of areas where whole plains are full of Sotol, Yucca, and cacti that stretch to the horizon.  I can’t wait to go back!

In Search of the Perfect Rose

Ed is helping me build a trellis in the back yard next to the house.  It has an interesting design and will be painted white.  It needs a red rose. Not just any red rose. The color must be deep, it must produce hips, it must endure the Texas summer, it can’t be a water hog, it must be pest and disease resistant, and the scent must knock me down. Lucky for me the Antique Rose Emporium has just the thing.  It’s called a Crimson Glory climber.  Even luckier for me, they were having a gardening event with speakers and other activities. Ed and I decided to make a weekend of it.

We drove 90 miles to Brenham Texas.  It is on highway 290 – the road to Houston – and passes through some beautiful country.  When we got to Bastrop County, the live oak gave way to pine trees.  It was like seeing old friends.  The landscape reminded me of Southern Oregon where I grew up.  A little further on it was if we passed through a rain shadow.  Suddenly the roadside grass was green and lush and the wildflowers were in bloom.  Our cares immediately began to fall away. 

Brenham is a very old Texas town.  The Texas Declaration of Independence was signed near there on March 2, 1836.  There are lots of older buildings and craftsman style homes.  We stayed in the Ant Inn.  It’s a bed and breakfast located in an old mercantile building.  We booked the “Austin” room and lived in opulence.  They were very nice people and it was a lovely place to stay. 

The Antique Rose Emporium is an amazing place.  The display gardens are incredible and packed with roses.  Not the fussy Jackson & Perkins roses that I grew up with, but old-fashioned, tough as nails, real roses.  Both of us were constantly shoving our face into blooms to take in the scent. 

As part of the festivities, Mike had the Brenham high school drama club on the grounds doing Shakespeare vignettes. They were completely in costume and deep in character.  I was called “M’Lady” several times (so much nicer than “ma’am”.)
There was so much to see and do.



The trellises and gazebos were very inspiring.

 


They have several rebar Monet-like structures, one almost two stories high.

The talks were interesting too. Every time I went to one I discovered new roses that would go great in my home garden. Which meant I came outside and put more roses in my wagon that was parked at the checkout. I ended up with a dozen at the end.

I met a lot of fellow master gardeners and got to talk shop with several.  It was fun to talk about scents and growth habits.  Everyone had a favorite that they had to drag others to go and see.  Yes, more roses for my wagon.

The area around the Antique Rose Emporium was beautiful too.  Ed and I found a group of roses in the parking lot that was framed by the vista of a farmhouse on the prairie.

We came home today and I unloaded my treasures.  As I lined them up against the garage in the order they were going to be planted I made a discovery.  I had grabbed the wrong rose.  Instead of the Crimson Glory that had inspired the trip, I had picked up a Jacob’s Coat by mistake. Luckily I have just the spot for it - it will replace a passion vine that the caterpillars ate.

So what to do about my red rose?

I guess I have to go back.

Gardening With Gardeners

Gardening is not a team exercise. The solitude, for me anyway, is all part of the grace of having my hands in the dirt.  It is a way to relax and recharge while obtaining a sense of accomplishment and pride.  However, sharing my love of growing things with other like-minded people takes it to a whole new level.

This is nothing new.  People form communities around shared interests all the time – whether a dance club, antique cars, quilting, or furniture building.  My first foray into garden groups was when I lived in Portland, Oregon.  Portland has several intense garden clubs and societies that intimidated me immensely.  At the time there was a definite economic stratification that I couldn’t fit into and I was very much into edible landscaping and that didn’t seem to fit anywhere either. 

My secret weakness was still English cottage-style inspired by Gertrude Jekyll and I greedily absorbed every issue of Fine Gardening and Horticulture magazines.  In the late 1980s, Horticulture had a very robust garden symposium schedule and came to Portland or Seattle several times.  When I saw that they were bringing the “Cottage Garden” road show to Portland, I immediately signed up.  Several guest speakers were curators of large public gardens and one gentleman was an expert on grasses.

I was blown away.  The attendees were not the stuffy garden club members I expected.  These people were serious plant scholars.  Many were professionals in the landscape and nursery trade, but many more were educators, writers, and plant breeders.  Latin names of plants rolled off of tongues and well-thumbed volumes of Hortus were dutifully toted.  The speakers were absolutely amazing and I learned more that day then entire hort classes at Oregon State.  The grass expert was touting the use of grass as specimen plantings in the landscape and his insistence of replacing turf grass with low growing native sedges inspires me to this day.   It was really this experience that got me to thinking about becoming a Master Gardener.

But years had to pass before I acted, and it wasn’t until I moved here to Austin that I really pursued gardening groups in earnest.  Part of it was because I have never lived outside of the Pacific Northwest before, and I wanted to reach expert level really fast in my new home to try to avoid costly mistakes.  So I signed up for Master Gardener certification and accepted an invitation to join a garden blogger group.

Again I was, and continue to be, blown away.  Both of these groups contain a very diverse group of gardeners.  Most of them belong to several other plant societies or garden industry trade groups.  Everyone is passionate about what they do and are eager to talk about it.  Both provide the opportunity to visit each other’s gardens and to see how all those nursery plants are functioning in the home landscape.  Some have garden helpers, but all have their hands in the dirt.  I have more fun and learn more than I ever have about plant culture, site selection, irrigation, and pest management.  A few weeks ago I hosted a group of friends and it was such a treat to talk politics (organic or not), garden design, drought survival tactics, gripe about the weather, more politics (water restrictions, gray water regulations) and what was going to be planted in our gardens this fall.

Gardening in Central Texas is a huge challenge.  The onslaught of pests, the extremes in weather, the soil, and now the drought make it impossible for one person to stand up against it alone.  It has made me a better gardener – simply because I plan better, but more importantly, it has taught me to appreciate and seek out a community.   I am having more fun than I ever did in the plant paradise of the Pacific Northwest.  And while I’m still not a “latin only” speaker, I’m better informed and more open to new ideas.  Thank you everyone!