Gaudy Redefined

 This post, "Gaudy Redefined" was written by Annie in Austin for her Transplantable Rose blog.

Seven years ago I started a blog on a whim, mostly so I could comment on other blogs (back then you needed a Blogger ID just to comment). I named the blog The Transplantable Rose and posted a photo of my white perennial hibiscus with the title "Define Gaudy". The Hibiscus 'Blue River II' is still alive but the ground warmed up slowly this spring, so we have buds instead of blooms this June 7th.

And a new Passalong Plant from Pam/Digging, called Monarda 'Peter's Purple', is currently wearing the crown as Most Gaudy. I have tried Monarda over & over since we moved to this house nearly nine years ago... only a couple of those plants lived at all and none bloomed until this powerhouse took root last summer.

A glance at the first few posts reminds me that plants can grow a great deal in seven years - the first triangle bed with the 'Little Gem' Magnolia was brand new in June 2006.

Yesterday there were 12 flowers open at once on a tree that is dwarf by Southern Magnolia standards, but still quite a presence in this small garden!

A post about the double Mock-Orange from my dad's garden showed it blooming in the newly-made Secret Garden. I took the photo for the blog, but it ended up being a memory - that Mock-Orange didn't make it through alternating days of flood & drought. But do you see that tiny fig tree close to the white iron fence? It is no longer tiny.

The Secret Garden seems a little more Secret today, with the now-large fig tree, crepe myrtle and pomegranate casting shade, borders on all the edges, a different bench and the usually-unhappy grass replaced by stepping stones & decomposed granite.

Another summer is on the way, perhaps preparing to draw its twin daggers of heat and drought to murder the plants I love. But just for today, I will celebrate that the garden is fuller, the shrubs are larger, a few tomatoes and peppers are getting ripe, the beds and borders are stuffed with plants native and adapted, the containers are stuffed with plants that are totally inappropriate and/or beloved for sentimental reasons, and the birds, insects, lizards, and squirrels think it's just swell.

I may not write often, but I'm not giving up yet. Year 8? Bring it on. 

 This post, "Gaudy Redefined" was written by Annie in Austin for her Transplantable Rose blog.

The Left Coast Garden Consultant

This post, "The Left Coast Garden Consultant", was written for my blogspot blog called The Transplantable Rose by Annie in Austin.

Garden bloggers like Carol of May Dreams and Frances of Faire Gardens report the presence of wee fairy folk in their gardens but I've never seen evidence of them here. Luckily for me, an experienced maker of fairy gardens happened to be visiting Austin a couple of weeks ago and she graciously consented to a consultation - accepting root beer floats, barbequed brisket and gift shop souvenirs in place of her usual fee.

The Fairy Garden consultant liked many parts of the garden. She appreciated the deep fuchsia color of an emerging anemone but felt that the most likely place for the fairy folk to dwell was in the Secret Garden, kept warm in winter by a brick wall and southern exposure, but shaded by deciduous trees in summer.

This small garden is planted with a fig tree, shown with summer leaves in the photo above - how many fairies would it take to eat one ripe fig?

Apparently, the fairies didn't feel at home because they had no small benches to perch upon. The cute little caps of the live oak acorns weren't set out on tiny tables.

Pot feet that could be useful to fairies weren't placed in the secret garden but were stacked on shelves. Seashells from a vacation were kept inside a large plant saucer. How could the fairies use them if they weren't handy?

The consultant arranged shells, rocks, wood and terra cotta in a more pleasing way. She liked a heart-shaped rock and some tumbled glass mulch.

Some fairies don't mind manufactured items but these fairies are the Austin hippie type, disdaining all but natural materials ...the pot feet get by because they're clay

and the tumbled glass started out as silica sand.

The stars were cut from paper, which used to be wood.

It's possible that I won't see any fairies attracted by these efforts but I'll keep watch for traces of them dwelling in the secret garden.

The consultant rested on the bench for a moment, looking at her work.

I started to believe that there had been a fairy in my garden after all.

This post, "The Left Coast Garden Consultant", was written for my blogspot blog called The Transplantable Rose by Annie in Austin.