Yard Fanatic

Petal Pruner

2012-02-12T13:55:00.000-08:00

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

2011-12-27T07:03:00.000-08:00

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

2011-11-06T14:54:00.000-08:00

Ed is helping me build a trellis in the back yard next tothe house. It has an interestingdesign 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 Texassummer, it can’t be a water hog, it must be pest and disease resistant, and thescent 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 ofit.

We drove 90 miles to Brenham Texas. It is on highway 290 – the road toHouston – and passes through some beautiful country. When we got to Bastrop County, the live oak gave way to pinetrees. It was like seeing oldfriends. The landscape reminded meof Southern Oregon where I grew up. A little further on it was if we passed through a rain shadow. Suddenly the roadside grass was greenand 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 thereon March 2, 1836. There are lotsof older buildings and craftsman style homes. We stayed in the Ant Inn. It’s a bed and breakfast located in an old mercantilebuilding. We booked the “Austin”room and lived in opulence. Theywere 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 (somuch 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 discoverednew roses that would go great in my home garden. Which meant I came outside and put more roses in my wagonthat 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 beautifultoo. Ed and I found a group ofroses in the parking lot that was framed by the vista of a farmhouse on theprairie.

We came home today and I unloaded my treasures. As I lined them up against the garagein the order they were going to be planted I made a discovery. I had grabbed the wrong rose. Instead of the Crimson Glory that hadinspired 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

2011-10-09T05:59:00.000-07:00

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

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

My secret weakness was still English cottage-style inspiredby Gertrude Jekyll and I greedily absorbed every issue of Fine Gardeningand Horticulture magazines. In the late 1980s, Horticulture had a very robust garden symposiumschedule 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 oflarge 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 plantscholars. Many were professionalsin the landscape and nursery trade, but many more were educators, writers, andplant breeders. Latin names ofplants rolled off of tongues and well-thumbed volumes of Hortus weredutifully toted. The speakers wereabsolutely amazing and I learned more that day then entire hort classes atOregon State. The grass expert wastouting the use of grass as specimen plantings in the landscape and hisinsistence of replacing turf grass with low growing native sedges inspires meto this day. It was reallythis experience that got me to thinking about becoming a Master Gardener.

But years had to pass before I acted, and it wasn’t until Imoved here to Austin that I really pursued gardening groups in earnest. Part of it was because I have neverlived outside of the Pacific Northwest before, and I wanted to reach expert levelreally fast in my new home to try to avoid costly mistakes. So I signed up for Master Gardenercertification 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 diversegroup of gardeners. Most of thembelong to several other plant societies or garden industry trade groups. Everyone is passionate about what theydo and are eager to talk about it. Both provide the opportunity to visit each other’s gardens and to seehow all those nursery plants are functioning in the home landscape. Some have garden helpers, but all havetheir hands in the dirt. I havemore fun and learn more than I ever have about plant culture, site selection,irrigation, and pest management. Afew weeks ago I hosted a group of friends and it was such a treat to talkpolitics (organic or not), garden design, drought survival tactics, gripe aboutthe weather, more politics (water restrictions, gray water regulations) andwhat was going to be planted in our gardens this fall.

Gardening in Central Texas is a huge challenge. The onslaught of pests, the extremes inweather, the soil, and now the drought make it impossible for one person tostand up against it alone. It hasmade 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 everdid in the plant paradise of the Pacific Northwest. And while I’m still not a “latin only” speaker, I’m betterinformed and more open to new ideas. Thank you everyone!

Who Should Be Saved?

2011-08-28T13:52:00.000-07:00

Recently there was a house fire in my neighborhood and it completely gutted the structure. Thankfully no one was injured, but I can’t even imagine the pain the family is going through over the loss. At times like this I reflect on what I would do in a similar situation. If my house was filled with smoke and I had to get out, what would I save?

I’m facing something similar in my garden right now. We now have had over 70 days where the temperature was 100 or more degrees. Worse, in my yard, we have had only 5 inches of rain since January 1. To say that it is an inferno out there is truly an understatement. We are also on water restrictions and can only run sprinkler systems (including drip and soaker) once a week. You are allowed to hand water with a hose as much as you want – for now.

I know some long time gardeners here in Austin who have had enough. They are saying that they are going to let nature take her course and stop watering. If the plant dies, good riddance you weather wimp. I sympathize. My husband, Ed, has been a savior and waters by hand in the morning. We use the condenser water from the air conditioner and supplement with the hose. But even my modest yard is too big to hand water. I have to choose what to save.

Some of the choices have been easy because the plant has simply died. My hibiscus was an early casualty, as well as nearly 80% of the perennials I planted this spring. My vegetable garden has limped along, but now the heat stressed plants are being attacked by scale and white flies. One by one I have pulled up tomatoes, okra, and eggplant and added them to the compost. It makes me very sad to shut off the water to each raised bed as the casualties mount. I don’t dare plant any seeds right now to replace them because they won’t germinate in this heat.

But now I have some harder choices. I have native shrubs that are struggling. My citrus trees are yellowing and curling in the heat. Should I try to save them? Or should I just walk away and let them burn? They are just plants after all. Someday the rains will return and I can replace them. The smoke fills my nostrils and the light dims. I start to stagger and lean against my garden fork. Who can I save?

Crazy In The Heat

2011-07-31T09:57:00.000-07:00

Last week I flew back to Southern Oregon to visit with my family. Oregon is having the exact opposite weather that we are suffering through in Central Texas; it has been a record year for rainfall and cool temperatures. In the Rogue Valley, the peaches are at least three weeks behind, which means I didn’t get to eat myself silly on my favorite fruit during my visit.

It was great to be there. They finally had some summer and the temperatures were in the high 90s. My Mom had the AC cranked and everyone was complaining. Not me. Sure, it was warm in the afternoon, but the air was not laden with moisture and in just a few hours it would cool back down to the 60’s. Mornings were glorious. It gets light much earlier in the north, so I could get up early and go outside to garden. I did some tree pruning and compost building and it was sensational. My energy just soared through the roof and I could not breathe enough of that air. My family fussed over me being outside in the heat, but as I told them; hey, it’s like March in Central Texas.

And then I came home.

Right off the plane the blast of hot air reminded me that my little jaunt was over. Hurricane Don turned out to be a whiny little brat that didn’t provide any rain or heat relief, so I returned to the same sad state of affairs that I left. My heat stressed okra is covered in white flies and the squash is barely hanging on. Plants that I thought were looking okay when I left are spent and forlorn. Of course I am sure my eyes are still jaded by the lushness of the Oregon landscape.

This morning I slept in late, and by the time I got out into the garden it was already hot. And then something unexpected happened. I got mad. I was mad at the heat, mad at the sun, mad at my poor excuse of a vegetable garden. How dare you! There is no reason for being so hot! Knock it off this minute!

Crazy. Ranting at the weather is not very productive. I go back into the house and sit under the ceiling fan. The cat gives me a knowing glance and then heads off to the bedroom. Anna has the right idea. Just go with the flow and find a nice cushy cool spot to wait it out. I grab my Territorial Seed catalog and prepare a seed order.

Sanity at last.

Recharging

2011-07-09T19:53:00.000-07:00

Turk's Cap Hibiscus

Geez I have been a zombie. Not the flesh-eating kind (except for the stuff on the bbq), but a sit on the couch, sleep all weekend, have no energy, blob kind. And it’s no wonder; I have been putting in some very stressful, long, and difficult hours at work. This coupled with the heat that keeps me out of the yard means I haven’t had a good mechanism for blowing off the week. I listlessly water, turn the compost, and then come back in the house. I might stumble back outside to harvest what vegetables are still producing. Then bump around the kitchen to fix them up for a meal. Not much of a life.

Luckily things are getting better. My major work projects are starting to smooth out and become more manageable, which means I sleep better. I have been forcing myself to get more exercise, which always helps. And I’ve been looking at seed catalogs. This weekend I also did a little nursery crawling (no purchases, I was strong) and have started reading “Howards End”. Nothing like a tale set in the English countryside to get one in the gardening mood. Except it also makes me crave a cup of hot tea, which is not so great when the temperature is 104 degrees. We’ve been drinking a lot of iced tea, but it’s not the same. I digress.

The seed catalogs and nursery crawling, plus some good nights sleep have started to recharge me. Just in time too, because despite the blast furnace temperatures, it’s actually time to plan for the next gardening season. September is our next “spring” where I can put in a full garden again. Green beans, sugar snap peas, greens, kohlrabi, and tomatoes are all on the list. Not only that, but I can add to the shrubbery and perennials. I’m thinking Pigeon Berry on my front yard berms. A Pride of Barbados in the midst of my Copper Canyon Daisies (the orange will just blast out of the yellow.) I’m also going to put in some red Shrimp Plants and some Bat-faced Cuphea in my kumquat berm. They will be nice companions to the Turk's Cap Hibiscus and Sea Oats that I already have planted. I’m also thinking I’m going to plant a Pomegranate (the one I have just doesn’t get enough sun to fruit) and train it up the brick patio wall.

Ah, a girl with a plan. I’m up and at ‘em.

Heat Seeking Green Missiles

2011-06-04T08:19:00.000-07:00

Hello Texas summer.

Triple digits and high humidity, so much so that even the weeds are wilting. I scurry outside on weekends in the early morning to try to get something done before I am chased back into the house. I sit on the couch and look forlornly at the brilliant sunshine illuminating my wilting, gasping plants. Ed or I water everyday from the five-gallon recapture bucket attached to the air conditioner condenser, but the plants still suffer.

Well, not all of them.

Summer is the time that the heat seekers thrive. I see my Anole lizard family and other wandering geckos more often. My citrus trees are putting out new growth like crazy, and my Bird of Paradise might even bloom for me this year. I bought two Mandevillas and they are blooming and climbing up their trellis, the hibiscus is really putting on leaves and should be flowering soon.

The real stars are in my vegetable garden. Peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, squash (wilting but still blooming and setting fruit), and black-eyed peas are all very prolific right now. And then there are the missiles.

The seeds I planted said “Okra”. The plants that grew resemble okra, right down to those lovely flowers. But what is that lurking down there in the dark? Tucked into the silo of leaves are huge, dangerous, heat-seeking missiles. Oh sure, they start out as four inch spears that are excellent on the grill, but five minutes later they become monsters that launch spines. Of course, what better revenge than to eat them – but they are so tough and fibrous they refuse to yield to heat.

I’m calling the Pentagon. Someone needs to warn them. Who knows, maybe I’ll become a defense contractor. Look out world, the green missiles are gonna git ya!

In the mean time, I am searching the Internet for more solutions. I wonder if I could weave a bath mat from their fibers? Or construct a fence? Any other suggestions?

Raging Insecurity

2011-05-30T16:45:00.000-07:00

From Austin Yard

Last month my yard was on the Inside Austin Garden Tour, sponsored by the Travis County Master Gardeners Association. The theme was water-wise gardening and my place was chosen for my rainwater harvesting system and water run-off capture ditching system. To me it is a huge honor to be chosen by fellow Master Gardeners and a great chance for me to share knowledge with the public.

But oh, the agony.

I’ve known for a year that I was going to be in the tour. At first my panic manifested as absolute paralysis. I knew I had to get busy doing something, but I had no idea what it was. To my eyes my garden was raw and incomplete, not something people would pay money to see. My yard lacks purposeful design; it has no restive place to view, any serenity or whimsy on display, no awe-inspiring vision. I had to fix that.

I ended up putting in a granite paver walkway and stepping-stones with thyme planted in between. I built a granite block planter and had Ed add some trellises. I purchased some new plants for the landscape. My vegetable garden became a little neater and I tried to vary the plantings so it was more pleasing to look at. Weeds were dispatched, trees were pruned, and compost was turned. But there was only so much I could do without bankrupting us. My job became very intense and I wasn’t getting home until 7pm most nights. I was exhausted on weekends from this schedule and had a hard time mustering energy to garden. It got to the point where I just had to be Zen. It is what it is I chanted to myself.

Then one week out the garden tour was featured on Central Texas Gardener, a local PBS show about gardening. They showed pictures of each of the gardens and gave a brief synopsis. I had seen one of the gardens before and knew what a lush landscape it was. It was one of the reasons for my initial panic because being included on the tour with that yard was going to provide a huge contrast. But as the show progressed and photos of the garden displayed, I began to sink.

They were beautiful, serene, whimsical, restful, and artistic. They looked professionally landscaped and were stuffed with plants. I turned away and cried. And cried. Then cried some more. Then I found Ed and cried again. Raging, tumbling, crashing torrents of insecurity drowned me. As I looked up from my pity-party in the basement of my despair, my little voice said to me, “it’s not a contest.” Then it said, “You have much to teach.” And a lot to learn.

It’s about the journey. The choices were mine; the labor was mostly mine (and Ed’s!). I had help with the design but it was from my idea, I just needed help with the right native plant selection. I bought the plants, installed them, watered and fussed over them. It was me that dug those ditches, hauled the bark, and muscled the pavers. While what I’m doing is not unique, it is most decidedly different in a neighborhood of St Augustine lawns and back yards of nothing. I’m producing wildlife habitat in front and vegetables in back. My yard is alive.

And so am I, despite the tour. People were very kind and interested in what I am doing. I helped them with their own dilemmas and had many, many awesome teaching moments. Visitors ate their first green bean off the vine. Ate a sugar snap pea. Sampled the blackberries. Pulled an onion. They ran their hands through the herbs and the copper canyon daisies. They admired the Gulf Fritillary caterpillars mowing down my passion vine and one or two got a glimpse of the Anole lizard patrolling the potatoes. I showed them my crimson clover cover crop on my fruit berm and the under sowing of cowpeas to keep the nitrogen cycle going all summer.

So now how do I feel? Better. I love my yard. It personifies who I am. Maybe not a showpiece but you are guaranteed a good meal, some great stories, and a great wildlife show to boot. I can live with that.

Trying to Adjust to My Own Climate Change

2011-04-24T16:00:00.000-07:00

No matter what your opinion about global warming, I am struggling with my own private climate change. I am having trouble adjusting from Zone 8 Portland/Eugene, Oregon to Zone 8 Austin, Texas. It is hard to believe they are in the same USDA climate zone, but then it is hard to believe that I would ever leave the Northwest. Change. It happens.

The frozen pipes this winter in Austin and the brief heat of a Willamette Valley summer attest that the temperature variation is the same. The constant drizzle of the “Oregon Mist” as we natives call it adds up to the same inches of rain we have in Austin. Of course in Texas, it falls in three days – if it ever does. An exaggeration of course, but the deluge of water that falls out of the sky in Austin has no resemblance to the misty wetness of Oregon.

I suppose I could get used to the difference, but what really floors me is what is going on out in my garden. Please, someone explain. I have apple trees blooming, sugar snap peas coming on…and ripe eggplant. Huh? Eggplant? Okay, maybe I got a hold of some super early variety of Ichiban eggplant. Maybe the description “thrives in the heat of summer” means some other summer. That’s it.

But wait. The strawberries have just finished up, I have green tomatoes and peppers, I’ve started digging potatoes, and the blackberries are starting to ripen? Hold on there a minute little missy. Something is definitely up. These warm spring days (in the 80’s and 90’s now) have driven my plants to mature very quickly. I tour the garden every day and just shake my head at the wonder of it. Let’s see, what kind of meal can I make out of potatoes, snap peas, chard, broccoli and, oh geez, the garlic is nearly ready. STIR FRY!

I turn back to my apple trees. They are just now putting out leaves and a few blossoms are starting to show. It’s April after all, and it’s that time of year to show a little color. I guess I’m not the only northerner having issues!

Overly Optimistic in Zone 8

2011-02-13T13:33:00.000-08:00

I pulled the plastic off my citrus trees and raised beds today. Devastation.

The salad greens are gone, the pineapples are mush, and even the kohlrabi is flat. But what sent me sobbing into the garage were my poor citrus trees.

I love those trees. To be able to pick a lemon, lime, orange or kumquat from a tree I have grown is the pinnacle of gardening. Never mind that it is a completely iffy proposition in Zone 8 Austin Texas. But somehow my love of citrus has crossed the line.

As I folded up the plastic covers and unwound the lights from the branches, my heart just broke. What I discovered is that I didn’t cry from disappointment, my tears came because I felt like I let my friends down. My trees barely weathered through last winter and I vowed that this year would be different. They would be safe from the cold because I HAD IT FIGURED OUT. But I didn’t. Our cold weather was unusual this year because it didn’t warm up during the day. Sadly, they were doing great until last week, but two days of not getting above freezing did them in.

What could I have done differently? Should I have added more lights? Doubled the plastic? Placed jugs of water around them? Or just move to Florida?

I live in Zone 8; the same climate as Portland, Oregon. What I am trying to do here in Austin would make the Oregon-resident Sheryl scoff. After all, I am the same gardener who stopped raising roses because they couldn’t fend for themselves. And now I’m stringing lights, creating plastic domes, and sobbing in the garage over some trees?

The rest of the yard is just fine. My native plants are already in bud-break stage and it’s only been a few days since the last hard freeze. The sedge even sat up today and waved in the sunshine. Green shoots are already appearing in the heart of the clumps of bamboo and gulf muhly grass. I tidied up the rest of the front by pruning back the salvias, copper canyon daisies and turk’s cap hibiscus. I cut back the mutabilis roses to ensure that they don’t take over the house. I planted potatoes in the vegetable garden and got my new Venus grape and some asparagus into the new planter Ed helped me build.

But my trees, my trees. What I really should do is cut them down and add them to the compost. They aren’t native, they are always iron deficient, they need a lot of water, they're heavy feeders, and I am doomed to be disappointed. I know better. This is zone 8. Be satisfied with the apples, pears, peaches and plums that I planted. Eat grapes and blackberries. Forget the citrus.

Not a chance.

Garden Envy

2011-01-23T16:47:00.000-08:00

I get an inferiority complex every time I visit The Natural Gardener plant nursery.

It’s not the staff. They are the very definition of helpful and friendly. Nor is it the breadth of plant materials. I’m pretty knowledgeable about most kinds of plants and am getting better with native Texas flora. And it’s not the customers. I usually end up helping people while I’m there. It’s the Master Gardener plant-desk hot-line-answerer in me that dispenses garden advice when asked. I guess I either look like I know what I’m doing (is it the dirty clothes and the floppy hat?), or I’m just there and have a friendly face.

No, it’s their dang demonstration garden that makes me feel totally inadequate. All those lovely raised beds with the square-foot gardening planting method illustrated to perfection. The plants are huge, the colors are vibrant, and there isn’t a weed in sight.

Yes, I know they have “staff” to take care of this. Yes, I know that they actually get to see their garden every day – unlike me who has to leave and come home in the dark during the week. Yes, they have all that great soil and custom made fertilizer. It doesn’t matter. I still walk away thinking that I should have something just as stunning growing in my yard.

Yet when I get home and look at my patch, it’s really not that bad. My front yard is really nice, by my standards, and full of interesting things to look at. People stop all the time to admire it and tell both Ed and I how much they enjoy it. The back yard is less landscaped, but still orderly and purposeful. I explain to people that it’s my production agriculture space. I have it arranged in an interesting way with my raised beds serving as a crown around my herb bed. My trees are still young, but they will be stunning in a few years when they form my fruit orchard hedge.

And my vegetable beds aren’t that boring. I mass plant everything and forego rows and precision placement – I get more yield that way. I tend to rotate the varieties I plant and can have purple carrots, red yard-long beans and blue potatoes at any time. My Swiss chard is gorgeous, my citrus trees smell heavenly, and the purple kohlrabi looks like space aliens. I’ll have fat swallowtail caterpillars on my fennel and dill, orange fritillary butterflies plaguing my passion vines, and a regular patrol of mockingbirds, cardinals, doves, and blue jays very soon. The green anole lizards are going to love my rock patio and I should have toads hanging out in the compost, and chirping frogs living in the rain gutters. Hummingbirds and dragonflies buzz around the herbs so much that it can be hazardous to go out and harvest.

Hmm. Maybe the folks from The Natural Gardener should come to MY house.

Animal Slave

2010-12-12T14:00:00.000-08:00

Animals have enslaved me.

Over the past couple of years there have been some interesting programs on PBS and articles in Psychology today by Nigel Barber, Ph.D. about humans domesticating animals. Dr. Barber writes that dogs and humans domesticated each other, producing a symbiotic relationship that benefited both species.

Symbiotic. Right. Tell that to my cat and the birds that bully me in my yard.

I am quite the attraction in my neighborhood for bird opportunists. I have several projects that require a lot of digging, and as I am moving soil around, I uncover a lot of grubs. Big white juicy grubs.

At first I just squished them, but there were so many that I started packing a cottage cheese container to toss them into. My thinking was that I would drown them and then just add them to the compost.

However, there was a Robin that started hanging out. Pretty soon I was just tossing the grubs to her. She started following me around like a chicken and ended up building her nest in my front tree.

Last summer a Cardinal and a Blue Jay regularly patrolled my vegetables and ate up the cabbage worms that kept attacking my cole crops. In an attempt to save my cabbage, I installed a row cover. As I was clipping it into place the Blue Jay flew over and started scolding me for covering up the groceries. The language he used! Turns out I should of listened because I lost the crop despite my best efforts.

This weekend I began digging out an area for a flagstone patio. As soon as the first spade full of soil hit the wheelbarrow, a Mockingbird flew in to investigate. Yes, you guessed it, pretty soon I’m tossing grubs to him. When I stopped to take a break he flew onto the clothesline and started yelling at me to get back to work.

So much for mankind being the dominant species. It’s kind of humbling, really, to think that I am so easily domesticated by my feathered friends. I try to find some dignity in that at least I don’t spend hundreds of dollars on birdseed like other folks I know. There has to be limits to how far we humans should go in accommodating the beast of field and air.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I must sign off. The cat wants to be scratched.

Grandpa, Why are their Christmas lights weird?

2010-12-05T16:49:00.000-08:00

This was the question posed by my neighbor’s grandson. He couldn’t wait to tell us how he tried to explain that we were protecting the citrus trees from freezing, but his grandson just couldn’t process the information.

That’s okay. I’m used to being misunderstood. But you can bet that the same grandson will be presented with an orange next summer.

Frost protection is a tricky business. I’ve often joked with Ed that what I really need is a couple of smudge pots. There’s nothing like the aroma of burning oil on a frosty morning. It smells like victory.

Instead, I use plastic and lights to ward off the cold. I drape 6 mil clear plastic over bent PVC pipe hoops, and then fasten it with clips I made so it doesn’t blow off. To protect my trees I used the same idea of forming a frame over them then added floating row cover or plastic. The trees are still small enough that this contraption works. I’ll have to come up with a new strategy as they grow.

Finding lights has not been easy. We go to the thrift stores to try to find the old fashioned kind that emit heat. The trouble is that you can't find replacement bulbs. Eventually I think I’ll just have to hang a heat light.

I wonder what the grandson will say about that?

Never For Want Of Projects

2010-11-28T12:44:00.000-08:00

I am very project oriented in all aspects of my life. I have a knack for seeing the big picture, creating strategies, goals, and tasks, and then implementing plans to see the project to completion. Hopefully it also requires me to learn new skills or to work with people I haven’t had the pleasure of collaborating with. Once the project is completed though, I am lousy at maintenance. Doing the same thing bores me to death and I find that every time I am in that situation, I end up reinventing the process and creating a new project.

My garden is no exception. If I don’t have a project to work on, I am completely paralyzed. Weeds grow unmolested; watering is sporadic, harvests done as second thoughts. All that hard work and then I can’t be bothered to weed or irrigate? It makes no sense why I am this way. I trick myself by setting appointments to make sure I get out and do the job (just one hour, that’s all you have to do I tell myself.) Anything that isn’t on my drip irrigation system usually burns up in the heat.

But luckily I am pretty good at dreaming up things to do, or re-do. Our next-door neighbor got a new job and moved to Waco, and as part of their move they gave us their smoker. We already have a gas grill, but the smoker allows me to cook items over charcoal and throw in some wood smoke to boot. We’ve cooked ribs, turkey, and chicken so far. The problem is, we don’t really have a place for it. Because it uses charcoal for fuel, it is not a good idea to put it on the deck or near the wood siding of the house. We have a large area near our rain tank, but the ground is covered in bark mulch. It is a disaster waiting to happen. The solution is for me to install a flagstone patio. Ah, a project. And it requires digging. Even better. Suddenly I spring back to life after a languid summer of hiding from the heat inside the house.

Of course, part of the area that I want to place the patio, has a pile of rocks on it. I was saving them to finish a ditch project. This weekend my ambition surged and I leaped into action. Tropical storm Hermine blew out my berm in a couple of places, so I needed to make some repairs and alterations. I created an overflow area in the low spot so the water exits in an orderly manner instead of over the top of the berm. I’ve dug a secondary ditch to dissipate the flow into the neighbor’s wide expanse of a lawn. The area along the back fence has been lined with that rock to slow things down and direct the overflow over another large lawn area.
There shouldn’t be much excess in a normal 20-minute downpour. But just in case we get a really big storm, I’m ready for it now.

The rock has been moved, a ditch dug; now for my patio. Ah, it’s nice to have a project.

Here is Something Truly Frightening - The Elitist Grows Stronger

2010-10-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

I am worried. I’m becoming even more of a snob - almost to the point of being militant. And it’s about food.

I love eating, cooking, and growing my own food, and it’s all done with pride. It has resulted with changes in how I shop and spend my restaurant dollars. But I am noticing a change in myself and I am trying to find the root of it.

I think I am turning into Alice Waters.

Part of it is because of my immersion into the gardening community here in Austin and on the Internet. Twitter and Master Gardeners have put me in contact with people that I don’t interact with via the job or neighborhood. I have been able to meet individuals with specific agendas about food preparation, sustainability, farming, food independence and a return to “slow food.” I have been bombarded with messages from films such as Food Inc, An Inconvenient Truth, and articles/books from Michael Pollan and Alice Waters. It reminds me of the transformation I went through in my coming of age discovery of the environmental movement in the 1970’s. Then I was a raw teenager beginning to explore the world outside of my isolation in rural Oregon. I guess it’s only fitting that in my 50’s I am exploring quality of life since I can now see mortality and appreciate how fragile everything is.

Which brings me to salad dressing.

My garden has provided us with some incredible meals. One day this summer I was preparing a killer salad and reached inside the fridge for the salad dressing. As I twisted the lid off a huge wave of indignation overtook me. What? Store-bought dressing on this magnificent plate of greens!?!!?!?!?!? Not only that, but what assortment of chemicals will be polluting my bug-battled organic produce?!?!?!?!? Is this yet ANOTHER evil plot by Monsanto? I sat the bottle down, and with a frenzy not even Julia Child could muster, I made my own dressing (red wine vinegar, olive oil, garlic, herbs, chopped pepper.)

The following Saturday I was at the farmers market and bought some local Texas olive oil. On my way home I stopped at Whole Foods and bought every variety of vinegar they had so I can expand my dressing repertoire. I spent an hour on the intranet looking up recipes. I find myself preaching to others that should reject store-bought dressing and make their own. I find myself growing smugger by the minute.

Its just salad dressing.

I think it’s great that Alice Waters and I can be smug. However, I don’t know that it really solves anything. I think it is one thing to enjoy handcrafting something but quite another to criticize others for choosing mass-produced goods. I think it’s better to serve as a good example than as a foaming, holy-than-thou fanatic.

So I take a deep breath. I go out to the yard and pick my produce, package it up and take it to work. I take some of my salad dressing too. Already I have shared the recipe and have inspired others to grow their own food.

Now, isn’t that better?

House Beautiful - At Least For Company

2010-08-01T14:17:00.000-07:00

What is it about having people over that suddenly transforms me into a cleaning, decorating, landscaping, and cooking machine? I mean, come on, I spend time on the couch under the fan, but it's not like I'm a total slob. My garden is in pretty good shape. I have food in the house. The dust bunnies aren't bigger than the cat.

And yet I am in frenzy.

Of course the cause of all this is my hosting a Master Gardener event next spring where perfect strangers will be looking at my yard. That doesn't really frighten me, but it's all those Master Gardeners that intimidate me into a puddle. These people know their stuff and I have to be ready! Of course they are perfectly nice people and are always kind to me. I have nothing to worry about.

Still.

I've been in sort of a paralysis, a kind of summer doldrums, trying to get my ideas solidified so I can finish up the back yard. I haven't laid all the bark down and I need to configure some sort of pavers in the paths. All of those examples I have clipped out of Fine Gardening and Horticulture seem just too elegant (and expensive) for what I need.

Lucky for me, I've gotten a nudge. I was able to come home a little early on Friday and spent some time with my neighbor. Cindy is very artistic and has such an eye for things. She has pavers, plants, and all sorts of objects in her garden that are arranged so artfully. I dragged her across the street (don't worry, she left with cucumbers and cantaloupe) to throw some ideas at her. We had a good discussion and I gained a little direction. Then on Saturday I spent the morning with another group of gardeners. We talked about landscaping and various gardens that had recently been visited and I became so inspired by the conversations that a couple hours later I was looking at rock.

I think I know how I'm going to finish everything now. Today I worked on the last ditch in the backyard and moved the compost bin. I've budgeted out what I need for bark and patio pavers. I've got Ed working on an arbor. Everything is in motion.

So in a frenzy I go, trying to get everything in its place. I don't know why I do this; I guess it's out of fear of rejection or something. I'd spend time on the couch trying to analyze it, but I've got a garden to get ready!

Pretty Little Things

2010-07-25T17:46:00.000-07:00

My days of cottage style gardening are over for now. A whole yard filled with nothing but flowers is not what I'm currently doing, gardening-wise, but I do miss them.

Luckily for me I live in a place where wildflowers are exalted. Austin is, after all, the home of the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. Her program to seed Texas roadways makes the spring here a kaleidoscope of color. There is also a local farm that raises flower seed, which is where I got the sunflowers pictured.

So now I'm thinking maybe I can do this flower thing after all. I can plant native seed all over my berms and between my fruit trees. Those blue bonnets are nitrogen-fixing legumes and will increase soil fertility and tilth. Not only that, but the native flowers will attract bees and beneficial insects that will help my garden thrive.

So I guess all those years of subscribing to Fine Gardening and longing to see the great landscapes of the British Isles is going to pay off after all. Right here. In Texas of all places. I think Lady Bird would be proud.

Gardening in Central Texas - Lessons Learned

2010-07-18T06:05:00.000-07:00

This month is my one-year anniversary of gardening in Central Texas. It hardly seems possible that a year has passed since I first put my hands in the sticky muck that passes for soil in my back yard. My first two plantings were some sad looking tomatoes and peppers from Lowe's. I just jammed in them in a strip of raised bed left by the previous owners, and hoped for the best. The best didn't really happen, because I was about to be KO'd by the hottest summer in Austin history. But even so, there have been many lessons learned since then, and hopefully my fall gardening season will kick off a little more successfully.

1. It is freakin' hot here. The hottest summer non-withstanding, the heat here is so much more intense than Oregon. Those 100-degree days in August are nothing compared to the every day onslaught here in Austin. It doesn't cool down at night so a stressed plant stays that way. The bonus though, is that these warm nights really aid the growth cycle and ripens fruit a lot faster.

2. You cannot water enough. I didn't understand why everyone was so upset when water restrictions said you could only irrigate once a week. I'm used to that being just fine and watering any more frequently promotes shallow root growth. Not here. Some of my vegetables and fruit get watered every day during the hot spell. During fruit set I will hand water AND drip irrigate. Believe me, I am not overwatering. I use my trowel or garden fork to dig in the soil to find the moisture zone and spend many days never finding it. I am so thankful that I installed my rainwater collection system.

3. Pestilence rules. If there is an obnoxious bug on the planet, it is sure to be thriving here in Central Texas. I have never seen such a plague of pests. Cabbage loopers, stink and pill pugs, leaf-footed bugs, caterpillars, little black beetles that mowed down my mustard, and a host of others that I discover every day. As I build my back yard habitat I hope to attract just as many beneficial insects, but right now it's just me out there doing battle. I have had to rethink my entire approach to what to plant. Up until now I mixed my vegetative and flowering plants together in the same bed. Not any more. In order to harvest food for the table, I have to keep the vegetative plants under row covers. I lost my kale and cabbage because I didn't get the covers on soon enough. That won't happen again. I am also shopping online for a bug vacuum. I have my eye on one that has a zapper inside. Payback's a bitch baby.

4. The growing seasons are actually shorter. The heat and the cold really shorten the available days for healthy plant growth. This is a problem for something like tomatoes that take forever to ripen. And worse, bloom set stops when the temperature reaches 95 degrees. The only way to combat this is to start seeds very early. I now have plastic to go over my hoops and will be raising seedlings as early as November. I need those plants vigorous and ready to bloom in March. However, notice I wrote "seasons". We have two awesome seasons to grow in, making this my most productive food patch ever.

5. It will freeze here. That hot summer really lulled me into thinking I live in the tropics. Not so. We had several freezes and I lost two of my precious citrus trees and had frozen pipes in the bathroom because I was careless. Not next time. I will actually put up Christmas lights in November - on the plants, not the house, and will let the faucets drip on cold nights. I also have plastic covers ready to go. Bring it on!

It has been such a blast learning to garden in a new climate. And even though I have had some spectacular failures, my successes are far greater. Home grown citrus, lemon grass, and cantaloupe bigger than my head, sweet corn in June - I really couldn't ask for more. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to check my inventory and get ready for fall planting. Yee haw!

Let there be dragons and other monsters

2010-07-05T14:19:00.001-07:00

There are monsters in my yard.

Every day in the garden is a complete adventure because I am constantly discovering creatures I have never seen, or have never seen such a variety of, before. Dragonflies are an example. The breadth of dragon and damselflies is simply amazing. I have never encountered such colors: carmine, bottle green, lipstick red, orange, Sapphire blue, white, and variations in between. I am constantly running to the house for the camera and the computer to try to figure out what I am seeing. Check out this website that has over 100 listed just for Travis County! Yesterday I saw a new one that just knocked me over. My digital camera just won't focus on these guys, so click here to see a picture of this male Plathemis lydia. I have the females too but they don't have that stunning white abdomen.

There are also a plethora of caterpillars that are munching various plants to the ground. The only one I knew by sight was the swallowtails. Imagine my horror when I saw these monsters chowing down my citrus trees! They are HUGE. I'd never seen such a thing. Turns out they are swallowtails too. They are a type of black swallowtail that specializes in citrus trees. I have them everywhere and it is very, very, hard to allow them to stay. My poor trees are still just recovering from the freeze and don't have a lot of leaves to spare. One of my limes died back to the graft, so I allowed the rootstock to go ahead and grow. My thinking was that I could use it as a swallowtail cafeteria and move the other caterpillars off my good trees. Well, that was a good idea that lasted for about a week. The new growth couldn't keep up with all the "relocated" creatures. Now I am picking them off and rotating them around to whatever is growing most robustly at the moment. Thank goodness the cardinals, blue jays, and anole lizards are helping me keep the population in check so I don't have to resort to caterpillar-cide.

There are also all kinds of interesting bees and wasps that hang about. They are very brightly colored also and vary in size. I found a dead wasp in the garden that makes the largest hornet I've ever seen look like a ladybug. Between them and the giant cockroaches, I can see a nightmare cooking some hot restless night. Right now I also have a swarm of leaf-footed bugs in my black-eyed peas. Every time I go to pick them I get thwacked in the face with a rapidly flying-away bug. They are about a half inch long and have a long needle snout for boring into things. Lovely creatures. Here's a link if you want to marvel at them yourself. They are also known as "stink bugs" so they aren't one I want to handle for a photo.

When the air warms up in spring, the air becomes resplendent with the sound of cicadas. Their chittering can be quite a cacophony during the day and I am always amazed at how they call to each other from tree to tree. Since they are high overhead, you usually don't see them unless a bird has dropped one. I was lucky to catch this newly hatched one underneath the front yard rain barrel. It is called a Superb Green Cicada and I don't think it could be more aptly named. It really is a pretty thing for such a big bug. Their white grubs are commonly found in lawns. I'm always finding them as I dig ditches or turn over soil. I usually just throw them out in the road so they can become street food for the jays and mocking birds that are always supervising me.

I think my fascination with all of this is mainly because they are so new to me. I've always been interested in things in nature and discovering all these new creatures sends me back to Mrs. Holdridges third grade classroom. It was there that we used to do science projects and hatch out Monarchs in jars. I find that same sense of joy and wonder bubbles out of me as I drag poor Ed out of the house to look at some new thing I've found.

Why just yesterday I was out weeding and came across a tiny reddish-brown toad. We also had hawks nest in the neighbor's tree and their two chicks have fledged. Ed and I watched them chase two tomato-thieving squirrels, and then later one landed on my patio trellis. I tell you, all this wildlife sure saves on zoo admissions!

Bushwhacking Texas Style

2010-07-04T13:30:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I didn't even look at the package. All I saw was "sunflower collection" and I immediately grabbed the item off the shelf at the Wildflower Farm. I love sunflowers. I have always had several in the yard and delight in finding new colors and schemes to try. They are just gorgeous on the plant and in the vase. Plus they are easy to grow and are relatively pest free.

Then I moved to Texas.

First of all, there is some sort of caterpillar that has just mowed through most of them. I think the likely suspect is a pretty little Bordered Patch (Chlosyne lacinia) buterfly that's been hanging out. I have learned not to immediately drown caterpillars in soapy water until I have identified the adult, and in this case, they were only eating the sunflowers. Plus, these plants are HUGE. I planted them on the berm between my fruit trees, and they have reached a height of at least ten feet. The side branches are over an inch thick and the trunk is at least three inches at the base. A little defoliation was in order just to let some light in for the apple trees.

But then the caterpillars got their fill and the dang plants recovered. Pretty soon, my trees completely disappeared. Today I decided I'd better tackle the job or lose the trees. It took me over an hour to trim up two sunflowers and to chop up the branches into the compost bin. Whose ever heard of having to trim up a sunflower to save a tree? I mean really?

Next time I think I'll read the package.

Deep in the heat of Texas

2010-06-13T14:59:00.000-07:00

Summer is here in full force. We have humid, 90-degree days (although balmy compared to the 100+ weather of last summer) and the nights are not much cooler.

It is these temperatures that bring me closer to understanding my southern genes. The heat and humidity really take it out of me, and I find myself moving, talking, and even thinking much slowly. Suddenly things lose their urgency as I gravitate toward the porch or any piece of furniture under a ceiling fan where I can find a little air movement.

The easy ways of my grandparents and great aunts suddenly spring to mind. Those folks couldn’t be hurried into anything and the lazy way they framed their thoughts sometimes seemed alien to me. I’ve always been prone to rushing around and doing too much at once. The only time the pace slowed was when I spent time with the McCasland clan. It was from grandma that I learned to love chickens, corn bread, bacon fat, greens, and anything else she would let me help cook. Grandpa and I spent many hours sitting in the boat waiting for the crappy to bite on Emigrant Lake a tonic for an A-personality granddaughter prone to talk too much. It seems he never ran out of stories about Arkansas and I never tired of listening.

I think of Jack and Clemmy often now. I think I can understand them a little better and I wish they were both alive for me to tell them so. I’d like to tease Grandma and tell her how I relish greens and bacon. Grandpa would be urging me to drop a line into the Colorado River to see how big a bass I could pull in. I hear the crappie bite really well on lawn grubs I can hear him say. I would tell them about my lazy summer days and how now I can appreciate the phrase “come and sit a spell.” I would show them my garden and laugh as the drying pods on my black-eyed peas pop and crackle in the sun. We’d talk about the merits of the tomato varieties I’ve planted and wonder how much taller these sunflowers are going to get. We would sit in the chairs that Ed made out of fence boards, swat at the mosquitoes and admire the fireflies.

I could never imagine the life I lead now. I could never even conceive of slowing things down and actually enjoying the heat of the day. I had no idea that the south would ooze out of my pores like the gallons of sweat I didn’t know I could produce. I didn’t know I had a southerner in me. “I swan Sheri”, I can hear Grandpa say, “we knew it all the time.”

If only things were different

2010-06-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran across some news that struck me profoundly. The first was a picture of an oil-soaked bird in the Gulf of Mexico http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=127482022. Then there was a post about an Prescott Arizona elementary school mural that is going to be “whitened” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/06/04/arizona-elementary-school-mural_n_601436.html. Last, a thought-provoking article in Mother Earth News discussing the morality of industrial agriculture (among other things) http://www.motherearthnews.com/nature-community/the-truth-about-vegetarianism.aspx

At first I became very sad and wondered how it could possibly be that we live in a world where such things happen, where people cap cop such attitudes. Why doesn’t somebody do something? Why don’t people see how wrong they are? Why are these mistakes made over and over?

Then my indignant and morally superior attitude hit me right back in the face. Want to change the world? Change yourself.

What these three articles have done is turn me completely inward to evaluate what role I have played in perpetuating a society that allows us to destroy ourselves and others without a backward glance. What is it about us that require one to be right and the other wrong? Why do we feel the need to bully each other or nature into submission? What genetically predisposes us to dominate, destroy, isolate, and control?

I think part of it has to do with our complete disengagement with community and family. We live an anonymous existence that allows us to write things on the Internet or hurl insults from a speeding car without any fear of retribution. We are free to air our hurts and hatreds, perhaps hoping that if we spew it from our bodies it will somehow heal us. Sort of like throwing trash on the ground; get rid of it and it’s no longer my problem. But it doesn’t heal, it doesn’t go away, it just gets worse.

I am not above all of this. I am part of the problem. These past years have not been fun for me and I now can see that the root of the problem has been inside me all along. The anger and viciousness I have hurled at others to express my dissatisfaction with life makes me no better than those people in Prescott. My assertion that other people have it easier than me and that I deserve better means I am just as greedy as BP oil trying to take shortcuts in order to make more money. My speechifying about my greater understanding of the food chain due to my agricultural background still sees me going to the grocery store for the bulk of my meals – despite what I claim to know.

Here is what I have learned. There is no Right. There is no One Way. There is only Me and what I do right Now. Want to change the world? Start right here, with me. Want people to treat me better? Start right here, with me. Think other people have it easier? I have a perfect example of an acquaintance that is wealthy and is one of the most miserable people I know. It’s better to be me with all my flaws and anemic bank accounts.

Here is what I am saying to myself. Live your life the best as you can with less. Grow as much of your own food as you can. Sew your own clothes or buy used. Drive less. Consume less – I mean, how many pairs of shoes do you need any way? Treat others with more kindness. Stop envying people you think have more. More is meaningless. Things don’t matter, they are just things. Stop trying to change other people; instead, be an example. Stop doing things that make you crazy. Stop hanging out with people that make you crazy. Seek a higher path instead of judging others.

Wishing things were different will not make it so, becoming different will. Change the world one smile, one more vegetable garden inspired, one less mile driven, one less object bought at a time.

This I can do. So can you.

Be a good Texan and eat your home-grown veggies

2010-05-30T15:37:00.000-07:00

Last week I volunteered again to answer the Master Gardener telephone line at the extension service. I love doing this because I get to help so many nice people with their gardening questions and I learn a lot too.

One of my favorite topics is home gardening. Many people are getting increasingly alarmed at news media reports of our tainted food supply. Others are simply trying to join the "slow food" movement and provide higher quality produce for their families. No matter what the reason, interest in home vegetable gardening is certainly growing.

You don't need to have much room to get started; all you need is some sunshine. One of the niftiest things I've seen in a while is this grow box. It is self-watering and is a great way to get started. One box will certainly hold two tomatoes, and you can grow beans, lettuce, even corn if you wish.

When I first moved here from Oregon, I spent a lot of time on this site too: http://aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/travis/lg_e_vegetables.htm. There is a lot of good information on how and what to grow here in Central Texas.

Listen, there is nothing like a fresh green bean that you eat right off the plant, and if you can chase it with a still warm tomato - well that's just heaven.

All that goodness is one of the reasons I'm helping my fellow gardeners bring more awareness to vegetable gardening. We are working now to ask the Governors of each state to promote more backyard and community gardening. Please join us by signing the Dig For Texas petition urging the Governor to help spark more interest in fresh, local food by showcasing the history of the Texas Governor's Mansion garden and visiting community gardens. Politics and gardening go hand in hand - all that grass roots stuff and all!

Weeds and Fire Ants: Garden Help or Hindrance?

2010-05-23T14:32:00.000-07:00

The more I garden, the more I realize and treasure what an amazing place our planet is. Mother Nature just wows me every time and never more so as when I am trying to manage pests and weeds. I have learned that in order for my gardening to be successful, I need both; everything has a place and a role to play.

When I moved here to Austin, I immediately set out to replace my St Augustine monoculture yard with a more diverse edible and drought tolerant landscape. I ran into a problem immediately – the heavy clay soil. It is hard to grow things because it’s either sopping wet or bone dry. The only way to manage it is to add copious amounts of organic matter. We built a compost bin with just that in mind.

Just one problem; there was nothing to put in the bins. One can only create a small amount of kitchen waste, no matter how much you cook. My own property lacked shrubbery and I was killing the grass so I had nothing to compost. Another thing we discovered is that people in our neighborhood don’t bag their grass, thus there was very little to scrounge. I found myself driving around looking for lawn debris to chip. Compost is made from decomposing plant material – no plants, no material. Suddenly I was wistful for weeds.

Weeds make great compost when you pull them in their young vegetative stage. Yes, there are some things you shouldn’t use – like nut sedge or any grass that grows from rhizomes. But even then you can toss in the upper green parts and then just dispose of the roots. Now that I have relandscaped and installed my vegetable beds, I have plenty of weeds to compost and I am thrilled.

Let’s talk fire ants. Fire ants have these huge underground cities and are constantly mounding soil throughout their territory. It can be unsightly plus painful if you step on one of those mounds. My yard is infested with them and at first it was a battle to control them. I learned that “control” is really just a joke. They are so prevalent that unless you have a complete neighborhood eradication program, they just move from one yard to the other. I go to Lowe’s and see whole aisles dedicated to all sorts of poisons to pour on the ground.

But here’s the thing. They loosen that heavy clay soil. I’ve had some move into my berms where I just mounded the existing soil and wasn’t able to add much organic matter. They would be one solid brick if it weren’t for the fire ants constantly tilling things up. Thanks to them my potatoes, tomatoes and cantaloupe are all aerated and happy. You bet I have to be careful where I stick my hand and I always scratch in the soil with a garden tool before weeding or harvesting spuds so I can see if ants are going to swarm me. And yes, I do treat parts of the yard with nematodes to help keep the population in check. Maybe this makes me a hypocrite, even though I am using nature to monitor nature; I hope not.

Let’s see, she likes weeds and fire ants – a completely gone girl this Sheryl. Maybe so, but I have discovered that managing the balance of life yields more positive than negative. The cabbageworms, pill bugs, cockroaches and those darn locusts help keep the garden cleaned up and thriving. It is just up to me to help balance things out and to practice cultural methods – like row covers, to make sure there are enough vegetable survivors for my table. I figure I can share a good meal with a pest or two. And by the way – you should see the two-inch long butterfly caterpillars that are decimating my fennel and passionflowers. I couldn't be happier!

In love with my yard

2010-05-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

I can't help it. I am totally in love with my yard. Everyday I go out there and just wonder at the splendor.

No, it's not a showcase. In fact, most people would look askance at what I call my "production" landscape. I've killed the lawn and replaced it with Texas sedge (Carex texensis) in front, and newspaper and leaves in the back. I've got reclaimed-lumber raised beds bursting with all sorts of vegetables. I threw out wildflower seeds so I've got all kinds of blossoms helter skelter everywhere. I've got shredded bark in the paths and crimson clover that's brown and gone to seed. Nope. Not a restful, peaceful, landscape worthy of the front cover of Fine Gardening. Not at all. Not even close. But I love it, love it, love it.

So does the wildlife. There are two Green Anole's that have staked out a home here - one if front and one in back. There are also what I think are Texas Banded Geckos that like to hang out in the compost bin. Swallowtail butterfly caterpillars are now all over my fennel. I counted over a dozen munching on my four largest bronze and green plants.

The Mexican feather grass in front is quite splendid and dances a perpetual ballet. Five foot tall flower spikes of the red yucca hang over the curb and reach out to passing cars and pedestrians.

I just planted more hardy hibiscus and two passionflowers in the side yard. The 'Lady Margaret' has started to bloom and is just a stunner. The orange Gulf Fritillary butterflies have been hanging about, so I imagine I'll see larvae on this vine soon.

The Agarita shrubs have a full load of berries on them and are starting to turn color. They should help attract more birds into the front yard so I can be fully entertained from my own perch on the front porch swing.

The blackfoot daisies planted with the Agarita form a nice contrast.

They are already starting to spread and will soon hide my irrigation line on the front berm. The red salvia and their sweet little flowers will compliment the Agarita berries.

This whole project has really captured me. Maybe it's because I'm gardening in a totally new climate - or maybe it's just because I'm ready to appreciate it more. I don't really care what the reason is, I just know that I am having a blast and am thankful that I have a garden to love. And you know, I think she loves me back!

Birdbrain or eternal optimist?

2010-05-09T16:18:00.001-07:00

A white-winged dove has built a nest in one of our Texas Sage bushes. She was so perfectly camouflaged that I didn't know she was there until she flew away. Ed and I hope it's the same dove that was trying to nest on our clothesline.

The birds here are really extraordinary and it has been fun to try to identify them. Some, like Cardinals, are ones I've only seen in books. Others, like Purple Martins, were only seen rarely. In our Austin yard they are everywhere.

One type of bird that is familiar is the Starling. Our neighbor has a covered patio and the Starlings like to nest in every crook and cranny. It is amazing to watch them squeeze into these little holes between the eaves and the corrugated roofing. This one particular Starling keeps building a nest in the downspout of the gutter.

You would think the bird would figure it out. We sit on the deck and watch how industrious he/she is with the nest building. Our Yuccas are favorite plants for materials although today I watched a marigold stem wing it's way next door. It's an ongoing show because the nest keeps getting washed out. Inevitably, just when it seems everything is done we get a shower. The bird climbs out of the gutter and waits it out in a nearby tree. A few weeks later the process begins again. Last year the bird eventually gave up and, I assume, built elsewhere. This year there have been at least four different attempts to nest in the downspout and today marked another failure.

I can't figure out why it persists. Is the lure of a perfectly protected nest too much to resist? Is this a pecking order thing where this bird is denied the prime real estate next to the eave? Or is this bird just playing the percentages? I don't know whether to admire its tenacity or pity it's lack of forethought.

It got me to thinking though. How many times have I been in the exact same situation? Gamely fighting on even though the flood will inevitably wipe me out? Too many times I'm afraid. Perhaps we are all birdbrains with the tiny speck of hope that THIS time it will work out. Oh geez, look at the time! I need to get down to the store and buy my lottery ticket!

Vegetable Gardening Has Turned Me Into An Iron Chef

2010-05-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

And today’s secret ingredient is KOHLRABI!

It’s a good thing I like to cook. The garden has been so prolific that I have quickly gone through my usual bag of tricks. I’ve had to come up with new ways to prepare kale, Swiss chard, beets, and mustard. A person can only eat so many salads after all, no matter how good the dressing!

Today I harvested some kohlrabi and have made two dishes out of it, both from recipes inspired by those I found on the Internet. The first is refrigerator pickles. This is simply peeled and cubed kohlrabi mixed with rice vinegar, salt and pepper. I usually do this with cucumbers, but the kohlrabi is excellent this way. It’s very crunchy and sweet at the same time. Ed doesn’t like vinegar so I have this dish all to myself. I’ve already eaten half of it. Gluttony isn’t pretty.

The second dish is a vegetable curry. I combined carrots, kohlrabi (this time with it’s greens included) and onions from the yard. Then combined with store-bought jalapeño peppers, tomatoes and various spices. I used mustard seed, cumin seed, turmeric and store-bought curry. I simmered these in a little chicken broth and then served over jasmine rice. Yes, we are eating well.

The sugar snap peas have stopped blooming so I harvested the remaining pods and pulled the vines. I am going to plant amaranth in their spot. I’m still toying with planting okra and eggplant, but really don’t have the room for them. It’s probably a good thing; my potatoes are nearly ready to dig. I better get busy finding some new recipes!

Austin Texas, One Year Later

2010-04-25T16:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a year since we moved here, which is very hard for me to believe. So many things have changed that sometimes I lose my breath. Some things have turned out better than expected, others not so much, and I am an awfully long way from my friends and family, but all in all I am very glad to be living in Austin, Texas.

One of the things that has been an absolute hoot is starting fresh in a new yard. This house was a virtual blank canvas and I have enjoyed turning into something that shouts "Sheryl lives here!" Some of my neighbors may disagree - after all, I had the best lawn on the street prior to my flirtation with Roundup. However, I remain very satisfied with how it is shaping up.

The Texas sedge I planted is flowering and setting seed. Hopefully that means that this fall it will fill in quite a bit when the rains return. My shrubs are blooming and setting berries. The wildflowers are growing and starting to bloom. The red Yuccas I transplanted from the back are throwing out flower spears and will be awesome in a few days.

The vegetable garden is the best I have ever planted. The raised beds Ed made out of scrounged fence boards are just the right size and the hoops enable me to put on row cover whenever needed. It was an idea I was developing for the Alaska project and I'm glad to be able to put it to use here in Austin. I've been concentrating on the garden's foundation plants and haven't been able to put in my usual riot of flowers, but my Mutabilis roses are doing what they can to make up for it. They don't need a lot of water and are very easy keepers. I have five of them planted around and all of them are cheerfully blooming.

The bird baths, mulch, and large trees in front also attract quite a few birds. I've never lived in a place with so much bird song - and that includes growing up on Yank Gulch. The cardinals, doves, wrens, chickadees, starlings, grackles, and a bunch of other tweety birds I haven't identified are constantly singing. I think my favorite has to be the Mockingbirds though. I have never seen more enthusiastic singers. They have really long phrases and are incredibly loud for their size. They also have funny personalities and are fun to watch. They seem to have it in for the squirrels. It's not unusual to see them chasing a rodent down the street or along a fence line. I've even seen two of them faced off in a duel - the bird won of course.

There are other awesome birds like hawks and egrets that hang about. We get migrations of Purple Martins and Monarch butterflies this time of year. We also have these huge turtles - about dinner plate size or larger, that you can see in ponds and sloughs around town. Soon the cicadas and fireflies will be active with their own shows. There is a lot to be thankful for and to appreciate.

So I'm glad that fate (and Kent - even though he ran off and returned to Oregon) brought us here. I think leaving the Northwest has been good for me all and all. Everyone needs a little adventure and risk once in a while to put things in perspective and starting out fresh has been both fun and terrifying. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going out on the deck to enjoy the evening. Ed has my chair waiting.

Psst, little catapiller, do you want some candy?

2010-04-18T14:53:00.000-07:00

Hello, my name is Sheryl, and I have lured a butterfly into my garden. Not only that, but I encouraged eggs to be deposited for the sole purpose of entrapping a young, innocent butterfly child in my back yard. I am unrepentant.

I am thrilled to report that the dozen fennel plants I put in the ground last fall are doing their job. I was hoping that a swallowtail butterfly would lay some eggs on them so I could hatch butterflies in the yard. It worked! I've been inspecting my plants since it warmed up a few weeks ago and discovered the tiniest little creature last weekend. He was barely as long as your fingernail and just a sliver of a little thing. Today he has ballooned into a two-inch behemoth who is munching down on one of my bronze fennel plants. I am hoping that he continues to grow and doesn't end up as lunch.

I've got eggs on other stems, but I think they are too bright yellow to be Swallowtails. I suspect these are from the Gulf Fritillary butterflies that I've also seen hanging around. I really don't care, I'm just honored that my fennel was chosen as a nursery.

I've also scattered dill seeds and have some tropical milkweed starts growing on the patio. I am hoping to lure some Monarchs with these. And then of course there are the citrus trees. There is a particular Swallowtail that loves to eat those leaves and now that I know what they look like I won't pick them off like I did last summer.

I also found a snake today while I was hilling the potatoes. I am not sure what kind it is, but I think it is a Rough Earth Snake, Virginia striatula. It was a tiny little thing and at first I just though it was an earthworm - but he wasn't moving. When I picked it up for a closer look it stopped playing dead and wriggled out of my hand. Lucky for me I'm not afraid of snakes. This particular kind of snake eats slugs, snails and earthworms. It likes to live in leaf litter - which is where I found it, so I've got plenty of habitat!

From a sterile patch of lawn has emerged a neighborhood hangout. To see that all my hard work has not gone unnoticed by the local wildlife is immensely satisfying. Now if I can just figure out what will eat the cockroaches that invade my compost I will be set. Maybe the fire ants will keep them out. Hmm, fire ants as a garden helper? Who knew?

Resurrection of the Citrus Trees

2010-04-11T16:44:00.000-07:00

Slowly, slowly, the citrus trees are coming back to life.

My Kaffir lime, the Mexican Key Lime, and the Variegated Eureka Lemon have all put out new leaves. The other lime still has a tiny green area on it's stem and is putting out a leaf. It's near the graft though so I'm not sure if it is the tree I want to be growing.

The banana and Bird of Paradise did not make it, so I've put sunflowers in their pots. I planted Mammoth, Velvet Queen, and Teddy Bear - all sure to cheer me up. The pineapples also died but I've sprouted two new crowns as replacements.

I learned a good lesson here. Just because I am hot and sweaty ten months of the year, doesn't mean that a cold wind from the Pacific Northwest can't come find me. What is frustrating is that I knew better. Those trees weren't cheap and I should have taken better care of them. Instead, I thought I could get away with just having them in the patio enclosure and not having to do anything else. Guess not. I will be prepared next time. I've already figured out how I can rig a cold frame and keep them all under plastic. It won't be the most attractive thing, but I can't afford a retractable awning or other fancy doo-dad.

I am also happy to report that my in-the-ground trees are doing well. The two oranges and Satsuma Mandarin are all blooming and setting fruit. My Meyer Lemon and kumquat are growing their leaves back and should be blossoming soon too.

I am thrilled with my mini citrus orchard. The flowers have the sweetest scent and the leaves are pungent with that citrus tang. They are so much more fun than my other fruit trees. Now if I could just keep the fire ants out of my compost bin - life would be perfect!

You know, I think things ARE bigger in Texas

2010-04-04T09:08:00.000-07:00

I've lived in Austin for a year now and there are still a few things that make me pause. Well, not the cockroaches, they make me run for a swatter.

It's mostly the climate; it's just so warm here compared to the Northwest. In the garden I am perpetually lagging the recommended planting dates. (It's just so WRONG to plant squash and sweet corn in March.) If it weren't for my handy chart from the Master Gardeners, I'd never get anything in the ground on time. Here the price to pay for being late is that you don't get a harvest before the summer sun fries everything to dust. I had it easy in the Northwest where the grace periods were much longer.

I'm not complaining. This place is literally exploding with growth right now. Overnight the wildflowers carpet the roadsides with a complete riot of colors. The redbuds erupt into the most exquisite pink clouds only to be rivaled by the white of the Mexican Plums. Butterflies and birds are everywhere. It really is a celebration to spring. Almost makes me want to turn pagan and run naked through the neighborhood.

The vegetable garden is also just amazing. My garlic, onions, Swiss chard, kale, second crop of radishes, beets, spinach - everything has just taken off. I planted the same variety of Oregon Giant Snow Peas that I do every year, and here they really are gigantic.

In Oregon, I was very lucky to have them reach their mature height as stated on the seed packet before they dried up and I had to pull them. Here they are three feet tall and are just now starting to bloom. It's not the soil or any sort of different cultural practice, it's totally due to the warmer nights. I have cabbage planted in the same bed, and I don't know if I am going to be able to get the row cover over my hoops to keep out cabbage moths. Maybe the huge peas will fool them and they will fly off to plague someone else.

And then there is the fruit. How can it be possible that I have bud break on my apple trees and cantaloupe sprouting at the same time? My citrus trees have recovered from the freeze and are blooming now too. I just noticed that one of the oranges has actually set a little tiny orb. Huh? It's like I'm a symphony conductor - all the instruments are playing at once and it's up to me to bring out the music.

My garden and this climate have also changed the way Ed and I eat. We continue to lose weight as we stuff ourselves with vegetables and grilled meats. Our fat and wheat consumption has really plummeted, plus we get out and walk more. We discovered that I now fit into Ed's old jeans and shorts, so I have a much wider selection of gardening clothes than before! Plus, did you know that men's pants have much deeper pockets? We women get short-changed on everything.

Of course, today it is raining and 80 degrees. I went outside and had to gasp for air because it is so steamy. But the plants are happy and therefore, so am I!

Irrigation is installed. Of course it's raining.

2010-03-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

I got my drip irrigation installed in the vegetable beds - so of course I was rained on.

Even so, I am very proud of the job I did this time. It's my best installation yet. Luckily I had most of the materials on hand. I brought the black plastic main-line and the soaker hoses with me from Oregon. Unfortunately, they take 5/8" fittings - something you can't find on the shelf at Lowe's. Home Depot had some tees and elbows so I was able to finish the job. Neither place had any in-line shut off valves which means I'll have to order them. Oh, I miss Jerry's in Springfield!

I ran a main line along all the beds, then ran a tee up from the ground. I opted not to use emitters and cut up some soaker hoses instead. I need more coverage than an emitter will give me and I don't want to use a micro-sprayer on the vegetables. Wet foliage invites too much rot. I'll run the drips in the landscaping in front.

A good day in the yard followed by a nice hot bath. Life is good.

Plum Dandy

2010-01-16T09:02:00.000-08:00

I bought tomato seeds last year with the intent of starting them in my newly erected greenhouse. They never made it - which is a good thing actually. Had I planted them the same weekend as the celery, I would have had to abandon them for my journey to Austin. Instead, they made it into the moving truck with the rest of my stuff, and came 2,000 miles away for another chance to be fruitful - like me!

I've created my seed bed out of some pots I saved from my Texas Sedge project. I filled them with the same soil I use for the raised beds. They will live in the house until they are big enough to transplant out in the cold frames.

I've planted a few seeds from each of these varieties: Purple Tomatillo - okay, not a tomato but it starts with a "T", Plum Dandy sauce tomato, Sun Gold cherry tomato, Glacier eating tomato, and Taxi, a yellow tomato that is supposed to be great for cooler areas. All except Taxi should do well here in Austin.

Believe it or not, this is the first time I've tried to start seeds in the house. I've never lived in a home that had enough light or space for the project. I've thought about getting or making a grow light contraption, but they just take up too much room. And even if that were solved, the cats would dig everything up. The planets seemed to have aligned for me at last. I have some great indirect light off the deck, and Anna has not been at all interested in the dirt. I've had the flat up on the TV tray for over a week now and she's only given it a passing sniff. Now all I have to worry about is Ed knocking it over on his way to the freezer. I have made them both promise to be good. Wish me luck!

Frozen Assets

2010-01-10T13:35:00.000-08:00

We've had quite a week of cold temperatures - and I am embarrassed to say that I wasn't prepared. Me, Miss-I-have-property-in-Alaska and I-can-cut-my-own-wood-thank-you-very-much. We had several nights in the 20's and two in the teens, plus daytime temperatures weren't exactly tropical. I wore socks to bed all week. And while my toes are still perfectly toasty, some of my plants are just plain toast.

Let's start with the walled in patio. The citrus trees are holding their own, but the banana is not happy. My bird of paradise and pineapple are also both a sickly brown. The tropical hibiscus is dropping all of it's leaves in protest. I don't know if they will recover.

Stuff inside the house was affected too. One of our pipes froze - luckily it didn't burst. Ed got it back to normal with some deft blow-dryer work. We moved some of the leaves against the house for insulation and left a faucet running the next night.

Good thing I hadn't spread them all out in the back. For once my procrastination paid off.

The vegetable garden isn't doing well either. My beets, Swiss Chard, and greens were all hit hard. I put a row cover over the greens so maybe some of it can be saved. Luckily I have installed a cold frame where my kale is happily sprouting, so we won't be without green things to eat for long.

Plants in the front yard are hit and miss. My prickly pear cactus pretty much sums it up though. I've never seen a plant look so downtrodden and defeated. Hopefully it will bounce back and grow new pads.

But summer will come. And when it does, I will be ready with my lessons learned and my yard in a better state of preparedness. I'll need a little rest and relaxation by then. Good thing Ed is making Adirondack chairs out of old fence boards. He's nearly done with the first one. Looks amazing doesn't it? The only reason I'm not sitting in it now is because it lacks, well, a seat! Ah, the projects never end. Stay warm everyone and think spring!

Halloween or freezing temperatures? Both are scary!

2010-01-03T11:04:00.001-08:00

It kind of looks like Halloween on my street. White sheets are hung all over the place outside. I'm not sure what the homeowner association policy is about public airing of laundry, but I think it's being ignored in favor of saving plants from the cold.

We're having Oregon weather here in Austin! Highs hovering in the 40s and lows in the 20s or 30s. That's great for my newly planted apple trees, but my citrus trees are not happy. I'm pretty sure I've lost one of my orange trees, but I refuse to lose any of the others.

So far they seem to be hanging in there. Ed or I cover them about 4 pm, then he takes the fabric off as soon as the temperature hits 40. The trees are losing some of their leaves but haven't died back at all. I'm using my floating row cover as the insulator. I've got some clear plastic, but don't want to use it. I'm afraid that it will fry the plants as soon as the sun comes out.

My trees aren't the only thing suffering in the cold. Ed can hardly walk because he is wearing so many clothes. We've been eating a lot of soup and he sits bundled up with blankets. We have a fireplace but it is really just for ornamentation. I doubt it draws properly and who needs a smokey AND cold house. I just turn up the thermostat and make my boy some tea.

Wouldn't you know it. I move here to Austin and it's one of the hottest summers on record. Then comes December and it's one of the coldest. I think Mother Nature is telling me that I can take all the Master Gardner training I want, but SHE's the one in charge. Just like a mom to have the last word. :)

Merry Christmas Everyone! We had a southwest inspired dinner

2009-12-21T18:57:00.000-08:00

We had Christmas dinner a little early in order to have yummy leftovers all week. It was a beautiful balmy day outside. Perfect for barbecuing the turkey - and quite a climate change from last year. Our menu was derived from the November 2008 issue of Sunset magazine. My favorite issue of all time. We have now successfully eaten every single recipe out of it.

We started off the food frenzy with fresh salad greens topped with roasted beets and fresh carrots - all from the yard. I made a dressing out of fresh squeezed orange juice, rice vinegar and olive oil. It was so pretty!

The bird was gorgeous. It was basted with a chile orange glaze that set the tone for my Tex-Mex inspired theme. I had juiced a bunch of lemons the day before and saved the lemon rinds. I put them into the cavity along with some rosemary and sage. The smell was heavenly.

I made Cornbread Chorizo stuffing to go with it (cooked separately.) I was reluctant to try this one because my previous attempts with cornbread dressing resulted in mush. However, this one seemed to have the right combination of dry and wet ingredients and turned out perfectly. The cornbread offset the spiciness of the chorizo and it was just gorgeous to look at.

Last night I prepared the Cranberry Meyer lemon relish, and I must say, it's the best I have ever had. It was so simple to make; it's just cranberries and Meyer lemons (courtesy of the Master Gardener trees.) It really complemented the citrus infused turkey.

The Chipotle Corn Mashed Potatoes were interesting too. I was afraid the chilies would send Ed over the edge, but the potatoes offset the heat nicely. This recipe calls for roasting fresh ears of corns and then cutting the kernels off. I didn't want to spend the money so I used canned corn. I "roasted" them atop the stove in a little olive oil. The combination was great and beat out the garlic potatoes I usually make.

Dessert was a deep-dish apple pie that we love this time of year. Cranberries are one of the ingredients and it makes for such a pretty pie. This recipe features a crumble topping so I threw in some pecans to make it more southern.

It was a great meal. My only regret is that none of you were here to share it with us. I have given you links to all the recipes. Try a few of them and think of me!

The tomatoes say that winter is here

2009-12-13T14:34:00.000-08:00

Uh oh. Freezing temperatures arrived last week and I wasn't ready. I'll admit that my Oregon DNA sniffed when the weather folks forecasted freezing temperatures over night. After all, it was in the 50's during the day and I'm still remembering that hot summer we had. But freeze it did.

The thing about the weather here is that it may have dipped down to freezing, but it doesn't park there like it does in the north. A quick freeze and then it's back up to pleasant fall temperatures. Of course my thin-blooded husband was in long johns, but I was still in sandals and short sleeves.

It was enough to K-O the summer vegetables. The tomatoes (and they were just starting to blush nicely), the summer squash, the cucumbers, and the beans - all mush. I saved a few pieces of fruit, but most of them were already starting to rot by the time I got home. My citrus trees weren't happy either - but I didn't lose any. It was enough of a wake-up call that I covered my trees for the next few nights until the frigid weather relented. Next year I will be prepared and will cover my vegetable beds with a plastic tunnel at night. Hopefully that will prevent the kills and provide a little more warmth during the day so things will ripen faster. I am determined to have vine-ripened tomatoes on Christmas day. And why not? I'm the girl who was going to grow lettuce in Alaska!

I Am A Walking Bug Snack

2009-11-14T15:38:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that being a hot sweaty woman here in Central Texas doesn't attract cowboys. Instead, I am a walking all-you-can-eat cafeteria for every blood sucking or biting insect within five counties.

What really irks me though, is that I never catch them munching on me. It's only at two in the morning that the welts start to itch and the rashes crawl up my shins. I get up in the morning and am raw from scratching.

It's probably karmic pay back for gloating about my yard. All my hard work (which is why I am hot and sweaty) is really starting to pay off. I got ten flats of Texas Sedge planted this week, plus installed my two Yaupon Holly trees (latin name illex vomitoria - click on the link and read why it is named this. Pretty funny.) Both plants are natives that are drought tolerant and really pretty to look at. I also added some milk weed and fennel for the butterflies to lay eggs on. Next time all those Monarchs fly by my house they are going to want to stop and leave me some caterpillars! I also planted basil (in November, it felt completely wrong) and some winter savory to flavor my black eyed pea dishes next summer.

My garden is still growing like crazy. I am feeding five people, not including Ed and I, with the greens that I planted. I keep harvesting them and you can't even tell I've touched them. They must grow at least an inch a day. It is amazing.

Yep, things going well out in the yard. Now excuse me, I have to go scratch.

My Garden Is Going Nuts!

2009-10-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

If you look closely at this photo, you can see that my kumquat is blushing and nearly ready to pick! How exciting is that?

I traveled to Oregon last week to visit family. Flying in over the Siskiyous the fall colors were just amazing. I drove through the Willamette Valley and the vineyards and blueberry fields were on fire with yellows and reds. Gorgeous. I also stopped by Territorial Seeds and got almost everything on my spring planting list. But as I observed things starting to wind down in preparation for an Oregon winter, here in Austin things are just getting started.

The hot days have given way to cooler day and night time temperatures that are perfect for growing vegetables. Even though we have had a couple of rain storms that tried to beat everything in the ground, my plants are growing before my eyes. We are eating salad greens and spinach. The summer squash will be ready this week. The beans and cucumbers are blooming and we are just now starting to get ripe tomatoes.

It is so nice to eat fresh produce again and not be limited by what's on sale at the grocery store! Ed and I now "shop" in the yard every day. Many times we just stand next to one of the boxes and graze like deer. We've considered leaving the salad dressing bottle in the raised bed, but figured that's pushing the fresh food thing a little too far. One must be civilized after all. I'll have to figure out a way to store the napkins...

The First Harvest From Austin

2009-10-11T14:41:00.000-07:00

I am happy to announce that the first produce has been harvested (and consumed) from the Austin yard.

It is so gratifying for me to be able to go outside, pick stuff, then bring it into the house and prepare a meal. What is especially delightful about this first harvest is that I've grown things I've never grown before, and prepared a recipe I've only enjoyed in a restaurant. A first-first-first! Wow.

Many of you know that Ed and I are nuts about Asian food (and Asians, you know who you are.) I am especially fond of hot and sour soup. There was a restaurant in Portland across the street from where I worked at Far West that had a really cheap lunch special featuring the soup. It was so hot that it made me sweat - but the flavor, oh the flavor. Unfortunately Mr Chens closed and I have never been able to find another hot and sour that was as good.

That is, until I moved to Austin. There is an Asian restaurant just a few blocks from our house. It is run by a really nice couple with the most adorable 1 year old twin girls. They serve mostly Japanese and Thai food plus the husband is an amazing sushi chef. I ordered the hot and sour soup the first time I went there and fell in love. It's the Thai version with that amazing lime flavor. It is because of that soup that I snatched up my kaffir lime tree when I saw it in the nursery, and then later added some key limes. I've put those trees on my bricked in patio where they get lots of heat and won't get frost bitten this winter. I also added lemon grass to my herb garden.

I've been noticing that I had two limes that appeared to be ripe. I surfed the net and found this recipe, and it seemed to have the same ingredients as the soup I enjoy at the restaurant. We stopped by the local Asian market while out doing errands today and got a really great deal on shrimp ($2.99 a pound!) Suddenly I was in the soup business.

I went out to the back patio and harvested two of the limes. (I wore my tropical shirt for the full effect.) I snipped off two leaves from my kaffir lime (which is grown only for it's leaves - when you crush them in your hands it almost makes your eyes water.) I have two key lime trees to produce fruit for me and grabbed two little globes that looked ripe.

After that I ran out into the rain and cut off some lemon grass. It was great to be able to harvest the stalks and then trim them into the compost bin. Suddenly my life became normal again after all this change we have been through since moving from Oregon in March.

The soup was easy to make. The scent from the chopped up lemon grass was amazing. I've never had any that I bought at the store smell nearly as good.

My key limes were juicy and easy to squeeze - again, much better than anything I've bought. The house took on a wonderful aroma as the soup was simmering.

The shrimp was thrown in at the end and cooked until pink. I ladled the hot mixture over chopped cilantro to serve. The recipe makes four helpings but Ed and I managed to clean out the pot. Gluttony is a terrible thing but I think we'll just overlook it this time. It is so great to eat out of the yard again -- surely that allows for a little indulgence?

Why I Garden

2009-10-04T11:04:00.000-07:00

The storm of controversy on twitter over comments being made about Generation Y and why they don't garden has made me reflect on my own journey with dirt. I had no interest in gardening when I was in my early twenties. It was just one more chore for me to do that interfered with my entertainment agenda. I didn't start digging in the yard until I moved to a large city.

It was in Portland that I discovered how connected I am with the earth and how terrible it is to be separated from it. Living in an apartment suddenly made me feel trapped and devalued. My stressful job pushed on me and I had no outlet from which to re-energize. Luckily my friend Jess didn't live too far away, so I gardened in his yard. I finally got my own little weedy patch when Ed and I got married.

But why do I garden? I've discovered that it isn't because there is a definite outcome, like flowers or food, although that is nice. It's not because I think it's the right thing to do or because I need an exercise program. It's not because I am competing with anyone. And it's not because I'm trying to prove to Mom that her lazy daughter can accomplish something. It's because it is a process and a journey that touches my very core. I garden because it is so infinitely satisfying to be outside and smelling the flowers. I love watching the birds and insects that take advantage of my handiwork. The garden is not something I can ever control, so I must accept things as they are and just do my best. Success or failure is part of the process, not a judgement of who I am. Even if I do puff up in pride over an exceptional blossom or vegetable. Nature is so sublime and wonderful, I'm so thankful to be a part of it.

Right now I am listening to the rain after coming in from a morning of ditch digging. The water that runs off the top of the ground is gathering in my trenches and soaking into the ground as designed. The white beacons of yucca blossoms are swaying slightly in the breeze on this gray day. A little bird has taken refuge in the rose bush. This is why I garden.

Summer Squash has been planted. That's so weird.

2009-09-20T16:58:00.000-07:00

That's right. I just planted summer squash. Every fiber in my body is screaming at me. Stop! What are you doing!?!?!? WINTER IS COMING!

Not in hot and sweaty Texas. According to the extension service, I should get a nice little crop in before it freezes. I also planted beans and lemon cucumbers. Just to feel a little like normal, I planted greens, carrots, and beets. I resisted the advice to also plant that last crop of sweet corn.

Everything has perked up after that rain we had and the wildflowers are blooming again. We've cooled off from those 100 degree days so everyone is back outside and visiting with the neighbors. I'm back outdoors digging ditches to slow down run-off when we get those huge down pours. It is so strange to me to be thinking of what I need to grow right now instead of planning what I need to start shutting down.

I'm not sure my Oregon born and bred DNA can handle this - except that my lemons are almost ripe. Okay, I'm liken' this new climate!

Rain comes to Central Texas

2009-09-12T17:30:00.000-07:00

Finally! It is 75 degrees and I can go outside again.

We have had a week of rain here in Austin and it has cooled things off. So much so that my peas have sprouted.

The most important thing though, is that my tank is full! It is even overflowing. I went outside today and had to dig my trench to slow the water from running into the neighbor's yard. I plan on filling it with mulch to soak up and hold the moisture for the grapes that will be planted and terraced on the berm. I got soaking wet because it was too hot to don rain gear. The funny thing is that I would have gotten just as waterlogged had I been working in the hot sun. I think I prefer rainwater to sweat.

Toughing up the Turf

2009-08-31T17:29:00.000-07:00

It is finally time to start planting my new lawn. Be gone with you water-greedy St Augustine grass! There's a tougher act coming to town that will leave you in the literal dust - sedges.

Sedges (Carex spp.) are wonderful plants. They are perennials that resemble grass, but don't have the heavy growing requirements that many of our grasses are bred to demand. The sedge I chose for my front yard is a native Texan that is able to grow in shade with limited water. I have interplanted it with some variegated liriope that I moved from a flower bed. The combination of dark green and the white margins of the liriope should be pretty amazing. I might throw in some red Oxalis lasiandra just to punch it up a bit. If I do it right it will look like one of Grandma Clemmy's or Linda's quilts.

The best thing about it is that it will look great all year round and I won't have to mow it, fertilize it, edge it, thatch it, rake it, aerate it, water it, or procrastinate about it. I can walk all over it, park my lawn chair on it, spill beer on it, and generally sit and wave at the neighbors as they slog it out in the heat slaving over their lawn. Oh yeah, I'm likin' this sedge more and more.

Slow Going But Progress Being Made

2009-08-23T14:33:00.000-07:00

It is so HOT! We are now into 60 something days of 100 degree heat. Only 45 more to go!

It is very frustrating to have beautiful sunshine outside but be stuck in the house. My DNA just isn't programmed for this. As a native Oregonian, I am conditioned to surge outside when it is not raining. Wearing a hat, soaking my clothes, taking shade breaks, staying hydrated, nothing works. I simply can't take the heat and have to go inside when it hits the century mark. If I push it too hard I get sick. You can't drink enough water to replace all the sweat that just pours out of your pores.

But despite all that, progress is being made. Ed has only two more planting bed boxes to go. The fence pile is now just a stack of boards. I've got two of the beds planted. The rest are just waiting for me to fill them with soil. I'm composting as fast as I can with the help of the neighbors yard debris. My goal is to get them all filled by early spring, even if I have to buy some soil.

From Yard makeover

Today I scored at the local nursery. They are having a summer heat distress sale and I picked up a whole pickup load of plants. I've installed some grasses in the front yard, roses in the back, and more importantly, herbs in the herb bed. We haven't had any new rain, but I'm still able to water everything out of my rainwater tank. I'm very pleased with myself.

From Yard makeover

Integrated Pest Management - with chocolate sauce!

2009-08-16T13:39:00.000-07:00

This week's Master Gardener class was on entomology. It was a lot different from all the other bug classes I have taken in the past, and the reason was the de-emphasis of chemical control.

As a former card-carrying pesticide applicator licensee, I'm glad of it. It just amazes me a bit considering that Master Gardening is a program affiliated with the land grant university system. None of my professors or extension agents from Oregon State University would have even dared suggest row covers or manually picking caterpillars off of crops twenty years ago.

We learned about all kinds of insects; what they looked like, how they derived nourishment, and how to control them in the environment. "Natural" chemicals were discussed, like Neem, as well as soapy water and beneficial insects. We even talked about the type of plants to have in the garden like fennel, dill and milkweed, to serve as hosts for beneficials.

What was interesting about the discussion was the reaction of some of my fellow classmates. These are all gardeners who battle it out with nature every day. Many of them were exasperated and demoralized from losing a war against squash borers, scale, cucumber beetles, or fire ants. They kept pressing for the "good stuff" to use to eliminate these pests. To her credit, our extension agent instructor was fair to chemicals, but kept bringing us back to how the pest lives and how to interrupt it's life cycle in non petroleum product ways. I appreciated this approach. We pour so many poisons into our environment and ultimately our bodies, which is the main reason I decided to go organic.

This holistic approach is called Integrated Pest Management. It's the blending of all effective, economical, and environmentally sound pest control methods into a single but flexible approach to pest control. This includes modifying cultural practices (like crop rotation), using mechanical instead of chemical methods (like pruning), biological, and physical manipulations (like row covers.)

To demonstrate her point, the instructor brought us a treat; chocolate covered crickets. You know I can't resist chocolate, so I tried one. The chocolate was pretty good and the cricket gave it kind of a rice crispy crunch. Now that's a pest management program I can really get behind!

A good idea taken too far.

2009-08-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

It was another hot day here in Austin and we had worked in the yard until 11:30 am. Ed built me two more boxes for my raised beds and I prepped a pile of brush so it can be chipped tomorrow. After a quick shower and lunch we headed out to buy groceries. It was 2:30 pm before we got back home and settled. Nap time.

Except it is so freakin hot. We are trying to save on electricity so it's over 85 degrees in the house. Ed wanted to take a nap but couldn't find a cool place to lay down. Then he had a genius idea. Take a cool bath.

We have that awesome tub, after all. Just the perfect size to soak in. We haven't used it much because it's not exactly hot bath weather. Ed turned on the cold water and filled the tub. The cold water is not actually cold. It comes through miles of hot ground, into a water tower, and then through our hot pipes under the house. It's tepid at best - but hey, that's good enough for an overheated human. While laying in the water he had another genius idea. Instead of draining the water out of the tub, bail it out and use it to water the yard!

Of course, I had to have a soak too. Once we both were dried off we set to bailing the water. Luckily the bathroom opens to the patio, so we brought in one of the garbage cans and poured the bath water into it. First we used a white bucket, then Ed got out a Rubbermaid and used it. When we finished I had to mop because the bathroom was a mess and the tub had dirt in it from the white bucket.

Trouble is, all that bailing and cleaning made us hot again. So much for water reclamation. The plants are just going to have to wait for rain.

Water Greed

2009-08-02T14:03:00.000-07:00

I cannot emphasize how excited I am over my rainwater harvesting system. We got some rain the other day and my tank is 40% full! I am now using rainwater to hand irrigate parts of my garden. This is a big deal because water is so expensive here in Austin. They double the rates during the summer time to encourage people to conserve. Even the regular rate is way more than we paid in Springfield, Oregon. Not only that, but the water comes from a limestone aquifer which creates a higher pH than plants like. After years of living in the acid soils of the Willamette Valley, it seems bizarre to live in an area that has the opposite problem.

When Innovative Water Solutions installed our system, they tied in every downspout except for one. The very front of the house drained into a downspout that would have just poured water into my driveway. Oh, I don't think so. Even with my ditch works that water would just go to waste. Solution: get a rain barrel.

But you know what? That wasn't so easy. There is not a lot of selection for rain barrels. Most stores carry only one kind, if any, and they aren't very big - only 50 gallons or so. That means that I would have to link two or three together. We broke down and bought two at Home Depot, but they were poorly configured and we would have to retrofit them to get them to drain properly. I could have ordered some better designed containers on-line, but it is expensive to have them shipped. I considered just using a big garbage can, but they aren't sturdy enough to handle the holes that would have to be cut into them for the plumbing. There has to be a way to tie the gutter into the top, and then a tap has to be installed near the bottom to hook the hose to. It also needs to have an overflow hole.

Lucky for us, our friend Blake at Innovative Water Solutions came to the rescue again. The rainwater tanks they use are purchased locally here in Austin. Triple S Feeds carries water storage tanks of all sizes. We jumped in the Mazda and headed south. What a treat it was to go there! It is in a completely out of the way location past the airport and out in the country side. It is really nothing more than a family's barn converted into a feed store. It's located in a hot and dry area that reminded me a lot of Sam's Valley. (I kept expecting to see Kent Bigham wheel up in that big old pickup truck he used to drive.) As soon as I walked into the place I was engulfed in that wonderful smell that only feed stores have. What is it exactly? The mineral blocks? The molasses laced grain mash? The leather goods? The hay and straw stacked up nearby? It had a wooden floor and all kinds of wonderful things stacked up on the shelves. Oh, I just ached with longing and it took everything I had not to fondle every piece of merchandise. Ed and I just looked at each other and sighed.

But! On to the business at hand! These people have serious water tank inventory (and feed racks, and big old water troughs, and fencing. Focus Sheryl! Focus!) We found an exact replica of our rainwater tank, except that it is 319 versus 2500 gallon version. We strapped that dude in the back of the bed and headed on back to civilization.

Ed did a really good job of getting it plumbed in.

From Yard makeover

Once it starts to rain again and I see how much water we collect, I may rig a garbage can to catch the overflow. I can dip my watering can into it or maybe rig a siphon to water my plants in the patio. Or, what if I dug a pond, or rigged up a big water feature, or had a giant compost tea vat? Hmm, see what greed does?

Squatter

2009-07-26T06:42:00.001-07:00

Blake, from Innovative Water Solutions, pointed out that we could collect water from our air conditioner condenser. It has a discharge pipe that drips water all day; might as well reclaim it and water plants with it.

We brought plenty of 5-gallon white buckets with us from Oregon (I know, but I just couldn't throw them out. You never know when you might need one!) Ed set out immediately to dig a hole.

	It was fairly quick work because the ground was so wet. The soil has so much clay in it that it will hold whatever shape you want so you only have to dig out what you need. As soon as he'd finished, he placed a bucket in the hole. I happened to be walking by a short time later and noticed that a toad had hopped inside. We thought that was funny and just left him in there.
From Yard makeover

Ed had to do some additional work on the discharge pipe to get the water to drip into the bucket, so he took it out and set it aside.

	The toad seemed unperturbed. Ed finished the pipe work and set the bucket back into the hole. The water soon began to accumulate and we began to worry that the toad would drown. Maybe he/she couldn't climb out because the sides were to slippery. We put in a block of wood to serve as a floating pier, and sure enough the toad climbed onto it.
From Yard makeover

	Eventually he did hop out. We still see him/her hanging out near by. We've since installed a flat rock to make it easier to climb out.
From Yard makeover

We get about a half a bucket of water a day - which is a lot when you think about it. We've shown our neighbors and hopefully will inspire them to do the same. We use it to water the various plants in the front yard. Beats paying the city, that's for sure, and we're able to provide a little wildlife habitat for more of the locals. Not to mention entertaining Ed and I. Who needs to go downtown to the 6th street nightclubs when we have a toad to watch?

Waterwise

2009-07-18T09:07:00.001-07:00

Austin is in the middle of a severe drought. Reservoir levels are at new lows, farmers are applying for disaster relief, and water restrictions are tight. Ah, reminds me of the good old days in Talent, Oregon. My whole youth was a quest for water on that dry old hill. We had to haul it in order to irrigate the garden, and sometimes, to provide something for the livestock to drink. Is it any wonder that I have a keen interest in keeping every drop?

I'm in the right city. Austin has a Rainwater Harvesting rebate program for installations of 300 gallons or more. I knew about this before I moved here because This Old House on PBS did one of their projects here a few years ago. The homeowners had a system installed to supplement their irrigation. I looked up the old episode and contacted the company that did their system.

Chris and Blake at Innovative Water Solutions are a complete hoot. I bonded with them immediately. They are former Peace Corp volunteers still out saving the world, even if it is one drop of water at a time. They both have been very enthusiastic about my yard project and have been great to bounce ideas off of. I am so glad I met them and the rest of their crew. I'm very excited about our collection system.

The principle is fairly simple. Channel the rainwater off the roof into the gutters that are tied into a large holding tank.
From Yard makeover

The cistern is a 2,500 poly tank that sits along the side of the house. A small pump has been installed to power the water through my drip system.

I'm hoping that I can water the majority of the time out of my tank and not have to resort to city water. My non-traditional landscape shouldn't need a lot of water so I can concentrate what I have on the vegetables and fruit. Some additional mulching will help as well. The other benefit of using rainwater is that it will be more acidic than the limestone sluiced stuff coming out of the tap. This will help me keep the pH levels in the zone that my food-producing plants should thrive on.

Now if it would only rain!

Compost Challenge

2009-07-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

I thought I knew how to make compost. You just throw things in the bin, stir them around, and voila! All cooked and ready to go.

This Texas heat has changed everything.

It is near impossible to keep the pile cooking because it dries out so quickly. I also have a huge infestation of cockroaches and grubs. Again, mostly because I can't keep the pile hot. Ed and I keep adding kitchen scraps. And while I don't have grass clippings, I still get enough leaves and yard waste from the neighbors that should keep everything going. But alas, no rot.

From Austin Yard

The answer, of course, is to pour the water on it and keep stirring. It's hard to do that when you don't want to go outside because it's over 100 degrees. I didn't want to go outside in Oregon when it was pouring down rain and cold, but I did it anyway. Time to buck up and do the same here. I just have to figure out how to pour all that sweat on the compost so I can keep our water bill down. Hmm...

My Garden Helper

2009-07-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

One of the things I miss from my youth is the constant animal companionship from the farm. Dogs, cats, sheep, cows, pigs, the goat, the horse, chickens, pea fowl and even the occasional little sister followed me everywhere. As an adult I've been lucky to have pets that enjoyed supervising me as I garden, but right now I'm in a bit of a void. Anna, by choice, is a strictly indoor cat and only wanders out on the patio on occasion. Oh sure, there's Ed. But sometimes I'd prefer a little hairier or fully feathered friend.

Help has arrived.

A few weeks ago I noticed a pair of robins hanging out at the bird bath. I, of course, was out digging ditches in the front yard and would take a break to watch them bathe. (I know, indecent of me, but I couldn't turn away.) It didn't take them long to get used to me, and pretty soon they would simply ignore me as they splashed around. I guess they figured I was harmless, because they started following me around as I was digging. At first, they would stay at a discreet distance and wait for me to move off before they flew over to grab whatever I'd exposed. But it wasn't long before they were practically pushing me away to get at the juicy grubs, pill bugs, and occasional earthworm that I turned up with my pitch fork.

From Yard makeover

I guess they know a good thing when they see it, because now they have built a nest in one of the ash trees in front of the house.

From Yard makeover

It's in a prime location because they have a perfect vantage point of all my current ditch projects and can swoop down as soon as I show up to work for them. Ed and I are envious. We wish OUR grocery store was so convenient. I can't wait for the chicks to hatch, but I worry that the robins will be pecking on the windows for me to get outside and get digging. Hey! You! Slacker! Get your butt out here! I've got a family to feed! I guess I should be more careful what I wish for.

Sweat of my labor

2009-06-28T06:19:00.000-07:00

It is freakin' hot here. And it's not just me. Austin is having a record-breaking heat wave right now with temperatures over 100 degrees every day. It cools down to a brisk 77 degrees at night. The locals bemoan that it's too early to be this hot, it's not supposed to be like this for another month. Great. That means I have three more months of this to look forward to.

Sunrise is at 6:30 am and I try to be outside as soon as I can see. There are just two to three hours available for yard work before the heat overwhelms me and sends me scurrying inside. I can't drink enough water to replace everything that pours off of me and into the ground. It's best to call it a day and come play on the computer or catch up on housework. (Or watch Ed catch up on housework while I sit on the couch and read a book - I can't lie.)

Even with a reduced schedule, I've been able to make some progress. The side walkway is dug out and the steps are placed. I've mounded up the soil in preparation for my citrus trees. I plan on placing the Meyer Lemon (which has a huge green lemon on it thank you very much) and my Satsuma mandarin orange right next to the house. I'll have to keep them pruned so they don't grab me as I pass. These citrus trees have nasty thorns on them - I had no idea - so you have to be careful.

From Yard makeover

Once the trees are planted, they will make a nice screen to hide the air conditioner condenser. As you can see from the photo I got a little carried away with the Roundup and over-sprayed into the neighbor's yard. The St Augustine grass throws out rhizomes so I have no doubt it will recover quickly. Luckily our next door neighbors are really nice and are enthusiastic about my project. They, of course, will get my SECOND lemon. Neighborliness only goes so far.

The raised beds made from the fence boards are working out too.

From Yard makeover

I fill them with the soil and dead sod from my ditch works projects. My other neighbor has contributed several bags of dead leaves and yard waste to mix in. I was hoping to mix in chipped brush but it all seems to end up in pathways instead.

The chipping is going slowly. We can't fire up the machine until 10 am (noise ordinances) and by then it is too hot to work. Ed's been trying to get a least one bag full before he shuts down. I quickly spread it around and then run back into the house to sit under the ceiling fan.

We're adapting though. Having the temperature drop to 95 is invigorating and we are outside with the rest of the neighbors taking a walk in the park. I'm getting really good at Texas barbecue and we eat more salad than we ever have. I channel grandma Clemmy and stir up a mess of greens with bacon as an additional treat. It's too hot to make cornbread but I am thinking of getting a cast iron skillet to throw on the BBQ grill. It'll be just like camping...except I just saw a cockroach as big as the cat. Dang.

Block (and tackle) Party

2009-06-20T13:34:00.000-07:00

This morning I was out digging in the yard when the neighbor came hurrying across the street. She had awoken to find that another neighbor's hackberry tree had split and fallen on her property. She was hoping to get some advice on how to cut it up.

Cut it up? Is she kidding me? Momma needs mulch.

Turns out the tree fell into two neighbor's yards. Jack, Cyndi, and I surveyed the damage. Luckily it hadn't taken out the fence or any of Cyndi's crape myrtles. We discussed how to cut it up and remove it, and then I pounced for the kill. Of course I would take all the branches off their hands. I can even come over and help drag the debris across the street. Anything too big to chip can be left for the MUD to pick up on Tuesday.

Woo hoo! No driving around the neighborhood today looking for brush!

It was a lot of fun actually. The smaller limbs were all carefully cut back until just the large trunk remained. Ed, Jack , and Gary (Cyndi's husband) used our rope to rig a block and tackle system to take the heavy stuff down piece by piece. Ed and I have learned to do this from several arborists we've hired over the years. In just a few short hours the job was done and the party was over.

From Austin Yard

What remained was a pile of limbs ready to run through the chipper. Ed will let them dry out this week and then chip, chip, chip away next weekend.

I better get digging.

Ditch Works

2009-06-13T16:35:00.001-07:00

There are two things here in Austin that simply amaze me. This city knows how to move people and water.

Freeways snake everywhere. You need to go to the store? A freeway will get you there. Apparently the state and or city gets lots of highway dollars.

But the thing that impresses me the most is storm water management. The storm drains yawn open and could swallow a small person. Concrete or limestone lined dry canals are everywhere. Giant depressions that serve as ball fields or parks dot the landscape. When I first arrived, I was agape at it all.

Then it rained.

This isn't Oregon rain where you stand outside for twenty minutes before you get wet. This is Texas rain where you don't last two seconds. Sheets of water pour from the sky and it hurts if it hits you. The rain bounces off the ground with amazing agility. Water starts to stream down every inch of ground; down sidewalks, streets, over lawns, down tree trunks, over the gutters. The canals fill with great rivers of water that rush downstream to somewhere. It is both exhilarating and frightening at the same time. Then, as soon as it stops, twenty minutes later everything is dry as a bone. Like nothing happened. Amazing.

It is with this deluge in mind that I am working in the yard creating my own storm water system. Our house is in a neighborhood that sits on a slope. Water pours over each others lawns and rushes into the street drains. Only a few homes even have gutters, so all that roof rain gushes into yards and driveways to join the river down stream.

The amazing thing is that the St Augustine grass that everyone has seems to hold everything together. People here don't use baggers on their lawnmowers, so the thatch builds up and is tightly knit with the rhizomes of the St Augustine. It seems like the perfect grass for this kind of weather.

Just one problem. I killed all of mine with Roundup. Oh dear.

Luckily, my erosion control specialist sister Jeanette and swampland dweller friend Mark have taught me well. Build ditches. So I am.

From Austin Yard

On each side of my driveway I am putting in planting beds. I dig down about eight inches and pile the soil in the middle to form a berm. The plants will be placed in the berm. Mulch created with our chipper goes into the ditches. The idea here is to slow down the flow of water and hold some of it long enough to let it soak into the mulch and berm. Hopefully this will decrease run off and my watering frequency.

Two days ago we had a doozy of a storm. It poured for hours. Of course it was at night so I couldn't observe my ditches to see if they worked. I worried that all the mulch Ed had chipped for me was ending up in the Colorado river along with the neighbor's small car. When I went out the next morning, I was happy to see that none of my mulch had moved. Plus, my ditches held the moisture into the 100 degree heat of the next day. Woo hoo!

So today I went out at first light and dug some more. Why should my down slope neighbor get any of MY water? IT'S MINE. ALL MINE.

One Man's Trash...

2009-06-07T16:26:00.000-07:00

As the old proverb says, one man's trash is another man's treasure. That's certainly true of me. I have brought my scrounging habit to Austin.

When we lived in Seattle, I forced my husband to drive around with me and scavenge broken pieces of concrete. I was building a retaining wall in the garden, you see. In Oregon, we drove around looking for cool rocks (took both of us to lift them) for my raised flower beds. We also drove around grabbing the neighbor's bagged leaves in the fall so I could mulch everything for winter.

I am happy to announce that I have hit the jackpot here in my Wells Branch neighborhood in Austin. Our municipal utility district (MUD) has a yard debris program. All you have to do is place your yard waste in one of their handy containers or pile your brush on the curb, and they send a truck around on Monday to gather it up. Quite a nice little service - and dang handy for me. All I have to do is wait for the weekend warriors to get their yard work done and I pop round in my own truck to gather the spoils. I return home with the loot, get out the pruners and get it all prepped, then get my husband Ed to fire up the chipper. Voila. Mulch. Chips for the paths. Compost starter. Beats paying $25 a yard.

From Scrounging

But wait, there's more.

A couple of days ago I noticed that there were cedar fence panels stacked up in a waste area next to a church. They were obviously old boards and next to them gleamed the new concrete wall replacement. I mentioned it to my husband and he said he'd noticed them there for weeks. Silly man, you think he would learn.

From Scrounging

Yesterday we hauled the pile to the house. There are plenty of perfectly good boards to use. Anything we can't build with can be run through the chipper. I've already placed my order; Ed is building raised beds for my vegetables. He's already got the first one done and ready for me to fill.

Let's see, chipping, hauling an old fence, building boxes, what else can I find for Ed to do to support my gardening habit? Don't answer!

From Scrounging

Transplanted

2009-05-31T14:12:00.000-07:00

Life is full of surprises.

Just when you think your roots have you so firmly anchored that nothing can move you, something comes along and rips you right out. I didn't think I would ever leave the Pacific Northwest, but here I am, living in Austin Texas.

My, my, my. And you know what else? I like it. Austin is a great city and it provides me the opportunity to landscape a whole new yard in a climate that is very different from the one I just came from.

Here in Austin it's all about the heat. Even though, technically, it is in the same Sunset climate zone as Portland, Oregon (same average rainfall too) it couldn't be more different. Austin has a humid subtropical climate, characterized by hot summers and mild winters. On average, Austin receives 33.6 inches of rain per year, with most of the precipitation in the spring, and a secondary maximum in the fall. During springtime and sometimes in August, severe thunderstorms occur. Although tornadoes are rare in the city, we've had several warnings.

Austin summers are usually hot and humid, with average temperatures of approximately 90 degrees Fahrenheit from June until September. Temperatures above 100 °F are common. The highest recorded temperature was 112 °F on September 5, 2000. For the entire year there is an average of 111 days above 90 °F and 198 days above 80 °F. I have struck up a friendship with a gal who works at a local nursery here. She is originally from Bend, Oregon and has lived in Austin for eight years. She warned me that I have to change in order to survive. "Just because it's a nice day doesn't mean you go out and work in the yard." She said that when summer arrives I am to force myself to go into the house at 10 a.m. in order to avoid heat stroke. She said that her first summer here she would come home and just lay on the floor to cool down. I can already see what she means. I have sweat from pores I had no idea I had. You cannot drink enough water to replace what pours off of you.

Winters in Austin are mild and dry. For the entire year, Austin averages 88 days below 45 °F and 24 days when the minimum temperature falls below freezing. The lowest recorded temperature was −2 °F on January 31, 1949. Snowfall is rare in Austin, but approximately biannually Austin may suffer an ice storm that freezes roads over and affects much of the city for 24 to 48 hours. The weather here changes very fast. And even though it may be chilly in the morning it warms up to 70-80 °F by the afternoon.

So what does this mean to me, gardening wise? Citrus trees darling, I can have citrus trees. And I can grow okra, southern greens, summer peas and beans, melons, tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, and everything else that pouts because it doesn't get hot enough in Oregon. What will I miss? Rhubarb and the smell of lilacs. Everything has a price.

I'm excited. I have already sprayed the lawn to kill the grass. I have a contractor coming in the next few weeks to install a rainwater collection system (all that research into cisterns for our Alaska project is paying off), and I've gotten some help with an edible landscape design. I've signed up to become a Master Gardener and have my first application interview next week. Another gal at another local nursery that I met is on the board and she says I have a good shot of getting in.

Now that Ed and I are all moved in and settled, I'll do a better job of keeping everyone up to date on what's happening in my yard. And guess what?! My Meyer Lemon tree is blooming.

An Oregon Eden

2009-02-17T15:35:00.000-08:00

The days are longer, the sun shows up now and again, but it still isn't really Spring. My restless heart yearns for the sweet green shoots of newly planted seeds, the first tentative blossoms from peas, the riot of color that erupts from the flowering plums; but I must be patient. For solace I take myself on virtual strolls through my favorite parks and gardens; remembering what everything smelled like, hearing the birds and water, letting my minds eye settle on every delightful nook. Inevitably I end up at Lithia Park in Ashland, Oregon.

Lithia Park is my Eden. I grew up on a dry hillside in Southern Oregon, and every now and then my Mom would swing by Lithia Park when we had errands in Ashland. It was always green, cool, and lush. Plants are crammed into beautiful tapestries. Paths snake through the woodland where the mallard ducks rush out of the undergrowth and demand you feed them. Ashland creek was always inviting and there was a little area where you can go wading. If you stand in the right place on the footbridge you can watch the trout swim by. There is a small playground where I would play on the swings (okay, I still do at every opportunity.) In the 60's there was even a zoo. It has two duck ponds; the lower often had swans.

I've had many life events in that park. My first sighting of a naked hippy, my first memory of my grandpa playing in the Old Time Fiddlers group, my many swigs of that awful Lithia water, my first honest to goodness picnic lunch, my high school graduation, and countless walks with friends and family from one end of the park to the other. Heaven. Please go there if you are in the area, but don't forget about the ambushing ducks - they get really cranky if you don't have treats for them.

Winter Fireworks

2009-01-31T17:57:00.000-08:00

From Yard

The darkness presses everywhere this time of year. Even though the days are getting noticeably longer, the drizzle or fog shroud of a western Oregon winter can make for very gray days. It seems that spring will never arrive.

But in the front yard an old friend is having a party. Defying the freezing rain, wind, and just general nastiness, a burst of color shoots into air like exploding fireworks. The witch hazel is blooming.

I remember the first time I ever saw these little wonders putting on their extravagant show. Friends and I were trawling our favorite Seattle nursery one January, clutching our Starbucks (mocha with everything for me,) presumably there to look at camellias. We walked down the aisle and there on scraggly branches was an amazing site. Sulfur yellow, watermelon red, and camp fire orange blooms were bursting out of the gray. You could hear the cannons thunder they were so loud. I'd grown up around hazels my whole life but I had no idea these plants had such amazing blooms. I applauded and spilled my mocha. I grabbed one before it could skitter away and planted it in my Federal Way garden.

When I moved into my home here in Springfield, I again found a nursery and hunted it down. This time it was in the middle of summer but I was undaunted. The staff didn't think they had any and waived me over to the shrub section. I spent a half an hour before I spied it. It was tucked between sun burnt rhodies and a sad spirea. Score! It's been rockin' my Willamette Valley winter ever since.

My next garden will feature a little hedge, I think, resplendent with all the available colors. I can't wait.

Victory Garden

2009-01-25T10:33:00.000-08:00

I have always tried to have a utilitarian landscape wherever I have lived. My rules were that the plant had to either be food or could be used for flower arranging. Either way it had to end up on the table. This year I am going to take it one step further. I am going to try to convert as much as my yard as possible to vegetable gardening.
Every day we read about something new that is out there in the food supply trying to kill us. The miracles of modern farming and food preservation means that mass produced substances move from market to table astonishingly fast. Even when problems are discovered it is often too late to prevent harm. If you ever get a chance to visit a food factory, whether it be a cannery, egg farm, or slaughter house, you'll see what I mean. There simply aren't enough humans available to inspect every item that is produced and packaged.
I'm not naive enough to believe that we should stop producing food this way. I'm a farm girl after all. Mass production means cheaper, and yes, more reliable goods are available for everyone. If everything was "hand reared" no one would be able to afford to buy it.
Growing your own food and preserving it has it's own risks too. The neighborhood cats, rats, dogs, birds, and even toddlers can contribute body-borne pathogens to your soil, e. coli being the tamest bug you can get. Then there is the helpful home canner who unwittingly serves botulism as the first course. It's a dangerous world.
But the good thing, in my opinion, is at least I have some measure of control over the food I ingest. I know where the cats like to spray, know how much to rot a pile of chicken manure, know how to wash my own pesticide free vegetables, know how to spot a bad jar of home canning.

From Yard

Which brings me back to the yard. My first piece to tackle this year is the front courtyard. I am moving the rhododendrons, peonies, and roses to the perimeter against the wooden fence. Perversely this makes the yard more "normal" because it opens it up from just a path through a jungle of plants to a lawn area of sorts. I plan on using this area to grow onions, tomatoes, thyme, and dill. Hopefully I will be able to arrange it in a way that will be pleasing to the eye as well as, eventually, the palate. Wish me luck!

Leaf Mold - Hot or Cold?

2009-01-18T09:15:00.000-08:00

I am a scrounge. There, I said it. I blame it on my mother. Sorry Mom, but you know it's true. Okay, so maybe Dad was a bad influence too. You don't have to remind me of his "junk" pile next to the shop.

I grew up in rural Southern Oregon with, let's just say, "resourceful" parents. Mom always carried a shovel around with her in case she was driving by an interesting plant or rock she just had to have. Dad was not above throwing a piece of metal, abandoned fencing, or any other thing that might be useful into the back of the pickup or in the chain box on the logging truck. When the state redid the freeway, he came home with several loads of concrete road bed. Therefore it is not my fault that I am forever snagging broken sidewalk pieces, interesting sticks, conifer cones, pretty stones, and yard debris from the neighbors.

My favorite thing to do though, is to pack off leaves. Leaves are the perfect garden amendment. I use them instead of bark for weed suppression. I tuck them around my winter vegetables like a snug blanket. I spread them in my garden paths to keep the clay from sucking me down to China. And I make leaf mold. I am lucky to live in Springfield because the city has a leaf pickup program in the fall. All they ask is that you bag your leaves and leave them on the curb. Every fall my neighbors dutifully line the street with plastic globes of perfectly good leaves, conveniently poised for me to drive around and pluck them like ripe fruit. No fuss, no muss. I am in scrounge heaven.

From Yard

Normally mold is the bane of any gardener. But in this case the term is used to describe the process of leaf decomposition. There are two ways to get those leaves broken down: a hot compost process or a cold "mold" process. I use both.

A lot of the leaves I gather are raked up from the street. I am an organic gardener and don't really want petroleum product residue in my soil. These leaves are spread out on my garden paths. It usually takes about a full year for these to grind down into nothingness. The rainy Oregon weather and constant foot traffic both contribute to the process, as well as the natural fungi that mold away the cellulose fiber.

From Yard

The bags that contain leaves from yards are used as mulch. My closest neighbors already give me their grass clippings and yard debris. In the fall they usually just use the lawn mower to pick up fallen leaves as they try to get in those last grass cuts in. These leaves go right on top of the soil or are added to the compost bin. The added grass clippings make it a hot process and the whole mix breaks down in just a few months.

Any leaves that aren't mixed with grass clippings are used as plant blankets or left in the sack.

From Yard

I add water if the leaves aren't already soaked and tie the bags off. I let the mix stew in their black plastic homes until spring. Part of my vegetable bed prep is to upend the bags and mix them in with existing soil and fresh compost. The resulting seed bed is light and fluffy and ready to germinate something for me to eat.

Not bad for scrounged mold.

In Pursuit of a Greener Greenhouse

2009-01-03T11:31:00.000-08:00

I am determined to have an off-the-grid ecological sound greenhouse. My friends in the horticulture industry tell me it can't be done. They are right to a large degree; the output from my endeavor will never match the yields they get with their full-powered pest-free hot houses. Lucky for me I am not trying to support a family or a business. Yet.

There are commercial growers out there that are trying to change the equation. Many use non toxic methods to control pests. Some use solar energy to power fans, hot water to heat benches, even oil or wood burners to heat air. I take my inspiration from them.

My greenhouse is a cobbled together affair. I’ve successfully pieced it together after salvaging it from my cousin’s property. There have been many times where I had to fabricate solutions in order to get it erected. It’s been a good problem solving exercise. I’m not too proud to admit that the neighbors got an earful on those occasions where things weren’t falling into place. Luckily young children don’t live near.

Today I took the first step toward my greener greenhouse, I installed louver openers. I know, kind of anticlimactic, but let me tell you the features of my 1st solar powered endeavor. I got it from Charley’s Greenhouse & Garden. Charley’s is a local company, well, what passes for local in the Northwest – they are in Mount Vernon, Washington. For years I have spent hours pouring over their catalog and now stalk them on-line. I saw the Sesam Liberty Louver Openers appear a few years ago and considered buying them to operate cold-frame lids. They are made in Denmark. The trick to them is a slender black canister that is filled with wax. When the wax heats it moves a piston that pushes the louvers open. It is supposed to open at temperatures ranging from 60° F to 77°. They suggest you buy the 5-blade louver window to go with it for $119. As you can see, I stuck with my rusty hand me down. The opener is designed for side mounted operation. Of course, my louvers have center mounted mechanisms. Once again I had to find a solution. A trip to Jerry’s hardware in Springfield yielded a threaded bar, some locking washers and properly fitting nuts. Hopefully it will work. It’s a sunny day out today. Maybe it will get hot enough for some action! Isn’t that all a girl really wishes for anyway?

Frozen Food Aisles

2008-12-20T11:00:00.000-08:00

No need to go to the grocery store this week to stock up on frozen food. I've got it right here in the yard. We've had snowfall and freezing rain all week here in Oregon. It's pretty but not particularly fun - especially when I can't just run out and harvest something to eat!

From Yard

Luckily I got off the couch a few weeks back and gathered leaves from all the neighbors. The city of Springfield does a fall leaf collection drive. All they ask is that you bag your leaves and place them on the curb. This is perfect for someone like me. I just drive around and throw the bags in the truck. My neighbors have me even more spoiled. They just leave their bags in my yard. I also rake leaves out of the street and use the wheel barrow to disperse them in strategic locations.

This has really paid off this week. My plant roots are snug in their leafy beds. I use the pear, cherry, ash, and plum leaves from my neighbors in the actual raised beds. These leaves are small and break down really fast. I throw some grass clippings on top of them to keep them from blowing away. Next spring they will be rotted enough to just turn into the soil.

I've even been a bit surprised at how well some of my plants have fared during this cold snap. Even the arugula is still edible.

Of course, I have to be able to get outside to harvest. I have learned this week that I probably shouldn't be wearing flip flops while I'm out there. However, I figure that if my vegetables can weather this storm, so can my toes!

Seed Seeker

2008-12-08T19:40:00.000-08:00

Yes, I spend way too much time looking at seed catalogs. I don't know why I do it, I seem to always end up at the seed rack at Jerry's or Fred Meyer to grab whatever catches my fancy on April 10. But this year I'm determined to plan better. I've got a greenhouse to play with!

The good news for me is that it is pitch black outside, it's pledge week on PBS, and I just finished a terrible book. That's right, I'm a little restless.

One of my favorite seed sources (they have a rack at Jerry's) is Territorial Seeds in Cottage Grove. They have a store there too. They are the nicest people and always very helpful when I stop in on my way to or from Medford. I've had great luck with their seeds. They test everything right here locally so you know it's going to grow here in the Willamette Valley.

Here's what's on the list so far:

Tomatoes (The first three are Jenny McFarland's recommendations. The girl knows how to grow tomatoes, I tell you) Glacier, Sun Gold, Taxi, and my favorite, Roma.

I'm also going to plant Celeriac. I had some in the yard when I first moved in but I ate it all before it went to seed.

Ed is a Radish fiend. I've planted a couple of different types, but he liked the Altaglobe the best. Unfortunately, I don't see it in the catalog. He didn't really like the Cherry Belle, so I think I am going to try the French Breakfast. They aren't round so it will rock Ed's world - but hey, they are better than store-bought.

Lemon Cucumbers. I just love these. I eat them like apples and they rarely make it into the house.

I'm also going to try Mexican Sour Gherkins in a hanging basket. They sound fun and I like to try new things.

I also need some onion sets. This year I'm going to try Copras. I plant these close together and thin them for Ed's salads. Breath mint?

Oregon Sugar Pod peas. I challenge you to find a more perfect vegetable. I love these...and so do my coworkers. I like to plant the peas and beans together. The peas finish up right when the bean plants are ready to take off.

Here are the leftover seeds from this year that will receive a command performance:

Nickel Bush Beans. I got these last year from Territorial but don't see them in the catalog right now. These are the BEST BEANS. Very tasty. They are a slender bean and are perfect fresh or in stir fry. Snatch these up if you see them anywhere else.

Kandy Korn Hybrid. Not a big producer, but the stalks and leaves have maroon streaks and the silk is pink. I planted them in the front yard and they were beautiful. The ears were delicious. They are packed with sugar so you want to eat them as soon as they are picked. They get gummy in your mouth if they are more than a few hours old. I would pick these, flick off the earworm, yank out the silk, then pop them on the grill (husk and all.) And hey, if a few aphids got singed, all the better.

Flying Saucer Patty Pan summer squash. Alas, I planted these in a corner and forgot to weed and water them.

Italienischer Loose-Leaf lettuce. I meant to plant these last fall but ran out of room because my spring lettuce just kept on producing all through summer. I just couldn't bring myself to pull them up while we were still snacking.

Swiss Chard Bright Lights. I already have this growing but we keep eating it to the nubbins. I've got another bed prepared so I can grow more. This is a beautiful plant in the landscape. The colors hold up pretty well during cooking too.

Filderkraut cabbage.
From Yard
What a cool plant! The slugs ate all but one plant this fall, but I am determined to grow more.

Broccoli blend. I planted this last fall and we are eating through it now. A fun variety of different types of broccoli - all very tasty.

French Nicoise salad greens. Oh, my, god. Fabulous. I pulled up the wild onions (hey, I live in Springfield, I've got them growing EVERYWHERE.) If you like your food to slap you around, this mix will do it. I pair this with arugula (which I am ordering) for an eye-watering sinus-clearing good time. I also grew their Tangy Mesclun and it was great. I still have joi choi growing in the bed. I harvest a couple of leaves now and then to throw into the stir fry.

Dang, I'm going to need to buy property. Wait, I already did that. Too bad it's in Alaska. Looks like I'm going to have to rip out more flower beds.

Greenhouse and Chicken Coop?

2008-12-04T19:23:00.000-08:00

My cousin Bruce bought property in Veneta that had a greenhouse on it. It was 32 feet long and about 8 feet wide and he didn't want it. Ta Da! He begged me for years to come take it away. I have had greenhouses before and know how much work they are. I eventually gave in once I had most of my other yard projects well on their way.

It is manufactured by Addco Greenhouses. It's a great design, really. The frame is 1" square aluminum tubing. The ribs and the shelves all tie in together in a very clever way. The company comes to your house and erects it. They use crimping tools to put it all together. I soon discovered that an Addco Greenhouse is not meant to be disassembled. I had to cut all the joints in order to haul it away. It took me several days to take it apart and sort everything.

I cleared a place in the yard and dug out a trench. Ed helped me haul several pickup loads of gravel to fill the trench.

My idea is to use it as a giant cold frame. I have no intention of heating or cooling it other than to cycle regular air through it. I plan on getting solar powered arms to open the louvers when the temperature gets to high. There is a small fan that is supposed to attach to a convection tube (which I have to replace) that I want to run from a solar panel. In the summer when it is really hot I am going to throw a dark-out cloth over it and use it to dry my herbs.

I also want to use it as a chicken coop. I rescued a set of nest boxes from the ranch in anticipation of having girls around the house. I haven't quite figured it out yet but I am close. I think it has possibilities. Don't you?

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-28T15:53:00.000-08:00

The November 2008 issue of Sunset magazine had some great recipes that tied in perfectly with what is growing in the garden.

One of the more interesting ideas was cooking a whole turkey on the barbecue grill. We have done this twice now and it has turned out great. It also frees up the oven and gets Ed out of the house. The turkey cooks at a constant 350 degrees so some degree of supervision is required.

This particular recipe requires a juniper berry and sage rub. I also basted it with olive oil and fresh sage. The trick to the whole thing is to keep a pan of water underneath the grill. This catches the drips and reduces flare-ups. The bird comes out moist and smokey.

I also made stuffing with kale and used parsnips in the turkey stock. I planted my parsnips in my concrete block planter this year, thinking that it would be perfect for the deep rooted plants. They grew fine, but digging them out has been a challenge. There isn't a lot of room between the blocks to get my hand around the root. I end up doing a lot of excavating but have been able to pull them out.

From Thanksgiving

Dinner was fabulous and then I found another job for Ed.

I think I'll keep him.

Persimmon Dilemma

2008-11-24T09:48:00.000-08:00

I moved into this house about ten years ago. The previous owner had forgone the lawn and instead tried to landscape it into an edible, Asian-inspired healing garden. One of the items she had planted was a Fuyu persimmon.

It was a cute little thing, not much higher than the grass that had grown around it. I weeded and gave it some water. The next year it rewarded me with one persimmon. Not to be discouraged, I continued to nurture it the next year. It thrived and put on several feet in height. That fall we had a wind storm and the thing cleaved in half. I dutifully sawed it up and chipped it into mulch.

I was a little distraught - I love persimmons, but figured I would just replace it in a few months when fruit trees were available. In March I went out to dig up the stump to prepare for the new tree, when I noticed it was sprouting new growth. There is nothing like a stump trying to come to life that tugs at me more. I let it grow.

The result is that I now have a persimmon tree that fruits. It must be some sort of wild root stock because the fruit is acorn-sized. They taste just like a regular persimmon but you have to eat about 100 to get the same serving size. I usually graze as far as I can reach and then leave the rest to the birds.

However, the tree is now approaching 20 feet and shows no sign of slowing down. Wild American persimmons grow to 80 feet. This thing is growing in front of my house and has already shown that it's easy to blow down. I could top it and try to keep it small, but I hate hacking on a tree and ruining it's form (although I don't seem to mind torturing my apples into an espalier.)

I need to make a decision. I have procrastinated on this for two years now. And dang it, if the fruit isn't the biggest it's ever been. They are the size of a walnut this year. It's a pretty tree...

Beets!

2008-11-23T07:44:00.000-08:00

Here we are almost at the end of November and we just now got a frost here in Springfield, Oregon. Finally! Maybe I can catch up on my weeding. I love living in the Willamette Valley but sometimes I'd like a little break from all this verdant fecundity.

I harvested some beets yesterday and plan on making them into soup.

I am growing the variety Bull's Blood. They are fabulous. The foliage is a beautiful maroon color and the beets are not too sweet. I planted them very close together. The beets that were thinned out ended up in salad or stir fry. This allowed for the beet itself to grow.

Of course, the problem with all that overcrowding is that some start coming out of the ground.

They are growing in raised beds. The soil is from my compost bin and I have added grass clippings as top dressing all summer. This has made the beds very friable and it is easy to pull the beets when I am ready to eat them.

I have cooked the beets a variety of ways. During the summer when it was too hot to bake I just sliced them up and threw them into the stir-fry. Now that the weather is cooler I have been roasting them. I cut their tops and root off, then give them a good scrub. Next I pop them into a baking dish and brush them with olive oil. I bake them in the oven at 350 F for about an hour. I peel them after they are cooled.

Next they go into the sauce pot with some chicken broth. I use my immersion blender to puree. Once it's heated, it's ready to eat! On the yard food scale it's about 75% pure yard food. Now that's living.