How Does My Garden Grow

When we moved to the Hill Country in September 2004, we discovered the "immaculate landscaping" of the previous owner amounted to mowing whatever grew in the yard -- grass, burrs, weeds and all -- to a crisp 1-inch height every week and allowing the two largest pecan trees to "self-prune." Granted there were random plantings here and there, but no discernable beds or viable foliage other than a three-foot juniper shrub, a sickly Arizona ash and an unruly hedge of unfortunate red-tipped photinia.

By typical HC standards, we have an abundance of soil -- up to 9-inches in some places -- but who knew soil could be simultaneously rocks and clay? We immediately set out to improve our grounds by composting, mulching and watering as much as municipally permitted.

By sticking (mostly) with native plants, we've managed to add some color and variety to our environment. Our landscaping method is strictly trial-and-error, with heavy emphasis on error and a scant few victories. I’m hoping to add more to the win column now that I have finally determined what I want from my garden, specifically: herbs, flowers, tomatoes and peppers.

To that end we muddle on, fingers crossed, in the belief we are moving in the right direction. We are encouraged by the fact our share of fauna has grown in proportion to our increase in flora. Birds, squirrels, butterflies and lizards abound. Rob and Laura, our robin couple, returned this spring and, same as last year, insisted on lingering well into July. White-wing doves, brilliant cardinals, noisy jays and ubiquitous sparrows all have made homes in the aforementioned photinia, which is trimmed and, for the moment, black-spot and iron chlorosis free. I've even spotted a genuine Texas horned toad sunning on my patio one morning!

After more than 20 years of abundant, extravagant landscaping in an effortless climate, the hard-won victories of Texas Hill Country gardening remain subtle. Some days, when my hair is matted to my skull under my sun hat and my vision is blurred from too much salty sweat in my eyes, I wish it were a little easier and the rewards a little showier. But the sight of the little native morning glory, whose tendrils I adjust every morning, blooming on my iron gate makes my heart glad.

The picture above is our thyme bed with it’s morning glory-covered sundial. It’s three puns in one.

Thyme is one of the herbs we use in several of our breakfast dishes, along with the pesto I made from our prolific basil plants. We roast our tomatoes as a side dish to accompany Joe's country omlets and I turn the peppers -- jalapenos allowed to ripen to a bright red color -- into my blue-ribbon winning jam.

Come visit us at the Cottages at Limestone. For more details and photos, please check out our website at:
http://www.cottagesatlimestone.com

Until next time, thanks for reading.
Labels: B and B, Fredericksburg, Texas, Travel, Gardening