Sparkler

The red rose, white Pentas, white salvia and Salvia 'Black& Blue' barely constitute a floral sparkler let alone the explosion of color I was hoping to gather for a photo. Real fireworks, legal or otherwise, can be heard around Austin on every Fourth of July. I like fireworks, but have always felt tense as bottle rockets flew over dried-out roofs in our usual hot, dry summers. They'll be very hard to light this year!

It's still pouring in Texas, and I wonder whether this photo of a puddle in the secret garden might be considered garden porn by those of you who need rain so badly. [Lilac and peony photos fit this category for me!] If you're in a drought area, may gentle, slow soaking rains fall on your gardens soon, allowing the waterlogged places [like Oklahoma City, which had 20 straight days of rain] to dry out a little.

MSS of Zanthan Gardens has concentrated on tomatoes lately and Pam/Digging has been away from her blog for a while. Well, while Pam is busy and you're missing her fabulous photos, my photos might look better ! Here are a few from my garden this week - some have rain and mist, others were taken in sun. When the rain stopped and the sun came out, I covered myself in mosquito spray and went out to weed and prune.

This unnamed oriental lily bloomed in a deck container for a few years, was planted in the ground in 2005, and is somehow living and blooming in our heavy clay soil. There have been a few flowers each year, but there were 10 buds this June - and they're huge, measuring 8-inches across when fully open.

In closeup this lily has little 'bumps' but no spots like the Stargazers. One flower in a vase puts out so much fragrance it can be overpowering inside the house.

The 'City of Portland' canna loves the moisture and keeps blooming. There's a little coral color blended into the brick of our house. This color sets off a war when something in the magenta/pink range is planted near the brick, but growing the cannas near the wall looks okay to me - what do you think?

Another Canna goes by several names, including 'Praetoria' and 'Bengal Tiger', and has striped foliage and orange flowers. I planted it in three places in my garden, liking how it looks near this 'Acoma' crepe myrtle and a self-seeded tropical milkweed, Asclepias curassavica, with Perovskia/Russian sage at the base .

The Zephranthes 'Labuffarosea' rainlilies opened a few flowers, but their numbers are down from last year. I don't think they like being waterlogged - some of the bulbs may have rotted underground.

Last year two Snail Vines, Phaseolous caracalla, ran rampant in my garden. One took over the garden arch and smothered the Coral Honeysuckle, leading me to evict it. The other one covered the metal obelisk so densely that the structure was invisible, but I liked the flowers, so let it finish the season.

Once free of the annual snail vine, the Coral honeysuckle did well, and has taken over the arch. It's been showing off those flowers nonstop since March, framing the garden and attracting hummingbirds.

I planted seeds for Moonvine, Ipomoea alba, and Blue Pea Vine, Clitoria ternatea, at the base of the obelisk a couple of months ago - actually planting them twice, since the first seeds never sprouted. The second set of seeds sprouted and are twining up the metal bars, but are not yet blooming. I like the way the obelisk looks this year, and am not in a big hurry for the flowers. The birds seem delighted with the exposed framework - a hummingbird likes to perch on the crossbar in between sips at the Buddleja, honeysuckle and Salvias and it's also a favorite hangout for the wrens.

I hope you're all having a safe and happy holiday, with some sparkle in your evening.

Decisions Were Made

Living in a sub-tropical climate tempts one to grow a lot of marginal plants, so some Austin folk build frames across the back of their houses each autumn, covering the wood or plastic skeleton in heavy plastic using open house windows to add enough warm air to keep slightly tender plants alive. Luckily, Philo was uninterested in building a temporary greenhouse, forcing me to Decide.

We used a dolly to roll the yellow plumeria into the garage, where it now fills a corner with 7-feet tall by 4-feet wide branches. I started this plumeria from a stick in 2001, and at the beginning of each winter it has dropped its leaves and stayed dormant in the garage.
In spring of 2005, a kind NE Austin gardener named Jane gave me a cutting from one of her red plumerias. Once it was well-rooted and repotted, the new one began to grow, reaching 30 inches by late fall 2005, when it joined the bigger one in the garage. But just like my kids, this baby would not go to sleep, refusing to go dormant. Moved outside again in spring, it branched out, bloomed, and grew quickly to over 5-feet tall. This year, I’m trying an experiment, letting the Plumeria stay awake for the winter in the breakfast room.
We should probably start referring to this space as the conservatory – the Meyer’s Lemon is also inside near the windows. Christopher from Hawaii suggested that we keep this lemon tree as a potted plant, and buy a new one for the ground. This idea made sense to my husband, and with 7 almost-ripe lemons on it along with a new batch of pea-sized fruit, I couldn’t bear to leave it outside!
On the windowsill in the photo you can see the little Aloe, safe because Pam/Digging warned me it was tender. Last winter, a pink tropical Hibiscus spent the winter in the breakfast room but it wasn't happy, developing both mealybugs and aphids. I set this plant close to the back wall near a window, but won’t let that Hibiscus inside this winter. There was a good spot for the Hedychium coronaria [Hawaiian White Ginger] near the back fence, so a big chunk from the patio container went there, with lots of amendments, a good watering, and leaf mulch piled around the base. The 'Best of Friends' daylily from Pam was planted, too, but the rest of the garden had to be left to chance.
On Thursday three clumps of Bengal Tiger cannas were in bloom, the non-blooming Brugmansia stood a foot taller than it had been in the spring, while the various Cupheas were blooming and still attracting bees and butterflies. A large Fennel plant also offered flowers to the butterflies.
I was still wearing shorts and sandals on Wednesday, as I finally got my act together, hoping the precautions were not really necessary. Over the last few years we’ve heard many frost or freeze warnings that never actually delivered the expected blow, but this time, the predictions were quite accurate. The Friday landscape showed the changes, with all the canna leaves a tobacco color, the top of the Brugmansia floppy, and both fennel and the cupheas shriveled and browned. I was actually glad to see the peppers and tomatoes wilted by the freeze, and the basil put out of its misery. Cleaning up a big mess is sometimes easier than fidgety maintenance!

Now the Christmas tree is assembled, with lights in place, ready for decorating. We’re enjoying our happy kitchen-conservatory, and thanks to the big freeze, I’m moving forward again.