Horticultourism--Tyler, TX

Lovely glass fountain at Blue Moon Gardens with complementary gazing balls

I've been meaning to visit Tyler's very large municipal rose garden for some time now.  We are rose enthusiasts, after all.  So we woke up early, stopped off at the little red taco wagon for our customary Saturday chicken fajita breakfast tacos, and hit the road.

The gardens were looking well--plenty of blooms, well maintained--but the truth is that it's not really our cup of tea (excuse the pun)--and not just because of its focus on moderns.

Here's the thing: making an entire garden out of nothing but modern roses is like trying to write a sentence using nothing but exclamation marks.  All these vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows are screaming at you from all over the place, trying to grab your attention.  But there are so many of them, and they are all in uniform, boxy parterres, so nothing really draws you eye any more than any other thing.  It's overstimulating and unsatisfying simultaneously.

Using parterres seems like a clever way to impose form on plants that are often so formless and scraggly, but it represses the distinctive personality of each cultivar.  It de-emphasizes the rosiness of roses.  Or so it seems to me.

The admittedly impressive rows upon rows of roses.  Note that the garden is at least this big again to the right.

There are some nice architectural elements in the park. I think it would have been better to select some roses for specimen plantings and some for massing, and then use the architectural elements to support the specimen plants--corners and archways and urns and central medallions in walkways that direct your attention and make the best use of different cultivars' strengths.  And then use evergreens in the background to ground the whole thing and to give some relief from the riot of color.  Think of a classic perennial border in England--a veritable Mardi Gras of colors and forms, set off by an impossibly smooth grass walk and the neutral background of a weathered brick wall--uniform, serene contrasts to the busyness of the flower beds. (See also the Bagatelle rose gardens in France)

As it is, this was our favorite part of the whole experience--a three-level koi pond tucked in a shady spot away from the roses.  Why not put a few roses around the pond's sunnier bank?  Some lovely cascadey thing, like swamp rose or 'Climbing Pinkie' or a very mature unpruned Tea rose.

And then my other favorite thing was this cultivar--you should click on it to fully grasp how heavily covered it is with hips, and what a bright gold those hips are.  I've never seen anything like it. Unfortunately, it was unlabeled--maybe 'Dainty Bess'?  If anyone recognizes it, please let me know.

I feel like I've been a little unfairly harsh--it's pretty nifty that a smallish town--or any town at all, really--has taken on the expense and trouble of maintaining a collection of this size.  I mean, look at the pic above--so clean and orderly!  Can you imagine how much mulch this requires annually?  And there are some very pretty spots--the koi ponds, the camellia walk, and the idea garden full of blooming perennials, for example.  It was just that it helped clarify for us some of our own ideas about how we think roses are best used in the landscape, which would be less rigidly formal, more individualized, and mixed with other species.

After that, we went to Chamblee's Roses, which I had always thought of as the Antique Rose Emporium's main competitor.  I think their main focus is wholesale and mail order, though.  Their excellent facility was scrupulously clean, tidy, and weedless, but it isn't a showplace the way that A.R.E. is. It is definitely worth the visit--we bought 8 roses and a book between the two of us--but it's a straightforward production unit for a terrific boatload of roses rather than a magical garden experience.

It was thanks to Chamblee that we finally got Buck roses.  "Moderns," we had hitherto sniffed dismissively.  But when saw them in person and full of blooms, they pretty much had us at hello.  We bought 'Dawn Star' and coveted 'Quietness' and 'American Legacy.'  They seem to combine old rose flower shapes with high fragrance on what are reputed to be very hardy plants.  We'll see what kind of shrubs they make. (Footnote: all 3, coincidentally, are posthumous releases of seedlings Dr. Buck gave to family and friends, according to this thread on Gardenweb.)

And I finally got some David Austins: 'Abraham Darby' and the 'Ambridge Rose' and 'Sharifa Asma'.

We also picked up a 'Mrs Dudley Cross' and peppery little 'Spice,' to replace the one from my undergrad days that died of Horrid Fungus our first summer in Elgin.

Then, back in Tyler, I saw the official lettering of the trip--how adorable is that New York Store?

 Delectable vintage lettering in Tyler's brick-paved downtown square

Next, on the spur of the moment, we googled "best nursery in Tyler," and got a recommendation for Blue Moon nursery, which turned out to be that unexpected something extra that makes a trip.  It was a small place with a lot of very nice plants in excellent shape set in creative, lovingly tended--and immaculate--display gardens.  We picked up a bog sage, a tiny yellow daisy whose name eludes me, some purple-flowering Thai basil, a hummingbird feeder, and two Dwarf Hamlins (that Pennisetum alopecuroides cultivar I was seeing all over the place at TNLA).

On the grounds they have this awesome patio/performance area--a fireplace, a niche for an urn, a mantel, a window, and--is that a pizza oven?  Whatever it is, it's delightful and convivial filled me with envy.

 Fireplace and patio at Blue Moon Gardens

At Blue Moon, they recommended we eat at either Edom or Ben Wheeler--apparently, these two rather remote hamlets are bursting with culinary goodness.  We chose The Shed in Edom where we had very satisfactory old-school chicken fried chicken and country fried steak; but interestingly, it was the fried cabbage (pretty much everything on their menu is fried--be prepared) that was the revelation--caramelized, sweet, but not soggy. Delectable. They must fry it very fast, in what tastes like bacon grease.  So it's going to be a salady week making up for that one, but, lordy! that cabbage was good.

I like this conjunction of signs.

So, all in all, a good trip. Long, but good.  We learned some useful things, bought some nice plants, saw some gardens, and had some yummy food.  That's about all you need.

Spring Planting & Tidying

It's definitely spring. It was in the 70s today, leaf buds are swelling, and flower buds are appearing. So it was time to do a little maintenance, and also to plant some things that have been kicking around in the greenhouse.

We weeded, cut back the dead branches of tender perennials, and raked out beds. Among the new plants were an Italian parsley (I'm not a fan of annuals, but you simply can't buy flat-leaf parsley in Elgin--I had no choice), "Berggarten" sage, and peppermint. Sage can be a bit whiny if it gets too much water, but that hasn't been a big problem here at Chez M lately.

'Berrgarten' sage. You'd think it'd be "biergarten," but no. 'Berrgarten.'

On the strictly ornamental side, I put a 1-gallon almond verbena (Aloysia virgata) behind the porch swing to add privacy and its lovely amaretto fragrance. The internet promises that it can take part shade--and surely the internet would never lie, right? I also added an Allardii lavender to keep last year's (now quite seedy) Spanish lavender company. More or less picked the cultivar at random--completely unscientific.

Lavandula allardii--the dark horse lavender

Matt planted a 'Paul Neyron' rose by the A/C unit, an 'Isabella Sprunt' in the pole bed, and a mystery rose by the chitalpa. This was definitely a good choice--I hadn't realized how scrawny the A/C bed looked until we filled it in a little.

'Red' verbena. No shit.

I also put a picnic-red verbena by the front door (cultivar name? 'Red.' Creative, no?), and added another Ipheion uniflorum under the chitalpa. Matt let me add his 'Black and Blue' salvia to the Blue & Purple bed, which will hopefully help to give the bed a finished look. We also put in a purple aster, so that bed doesn't look so miserably neglected.

Ipheion uniflorum--Starflower. Originally from Argentina.

Only the (blech) 'Pink Knockout' (TM) is currently in bloom, though Souvenir de la M, Duchesse de B, and Georgetown Tea all have buds.

Cruisin' Elgin

I took a nice, long, exploratory bike ride today. I haven't been able to bike much lately, largely because the weather has not coordinated well with my schedule. But it was a nice, moody, overcast day today, in the 60s, all of which is terrific for me (I'm no great fan of sunshine, personally).

So. I wanted to break out of our usual biking patterns (10th St to Ave C to the duck pond or Main and back again) and see some new things, which totally worked out. I went down 2nd heading east of downtown and found myself on Ila, Bill, QS Goins[!], and Louise (streets, not people), where they have lots of rockin' yard bling and an adventurous, DIY approach to home construction and decoration.

Unfortunately, my camera card was full, so the only pix I could take were with my phone.

But here are some of the interesting things I saw.

This exceptionally gloomy abandoned house and derelict property.

I love old ruins--they're so pleasantly, tantalizingly melancholy

This woodcutter's cottage. His house is entirely fenced in firewood. Having been raised in the suburbs, I utterly do not know what to make of it. Is that how he heats his house? Does he sell firewood for a living? Answer comes there none.

The woodcutter's inexplicable cottage

Signs of spring. Daffodils, flowering quince, and pears were in bloom all over town.

A very big, old pear in bloom

And finally, one of the awesome things about living in a small town: goats! In town!

The tiny white dot in the back is a goat. He has another goat pal lurking behind the brush pile.

You want to know something weird? I like bike riding. I mean, I like it. It was always one of the more tolerable forms of exercise, but I never liked exercise in any form--it's always been a disagreeable but necessary means to some end or other. But this--this is fun. I didn't want to stop. I don't know what to make of this--some chemical change in my brain? Something to do with aging? Or maybe it's just the mild weather--moving around is fun when the great outdoors doesn't feel like a gigantic griddle. Who knows? I hope it's a long-lasting condition, though.

Early spring planting
A couple of weeks ago, we visited Barton Springs [or Creek? I always forget which it is] Nursery in Austin, just for a little looksee, and of course they were having a sale and had all sorts of lovely things in bloom to tempt our color-starved eyes.

Salvia vanhouttii 'Burgundy'

But then it was freezing, and wet, and snowy(!), so our purchases have been hanging out in Matt's greenhouse ever since. It's still a bit early, but I gambled and popped our burgundy Vanhouttii salvias in the ground, a 'Marilyn's Choice' abutilon, a 'New Dawn' abutilon, a garden mint, a cardoon (well, why the hell not?), and a couple of shrimp plants: dark red and firecracker orange.

'Marilyn's Choice' abutilon--you can see why I couldn't resist putting it in the ground

And, because they're still in bloom & I want to appreciate them while I can, here are some more of our cemetery iris, Iris albicans

Brave Little Winter Buds & a New (Old) Table

Some of our spring-flowering bulbs--just planted last year, and therefore not well established--have already started blooming.

One of the cemetery irises (Iris albicans) that Matt found for me last winter is putting on its first flower. Unfortunately, I didn't catch it at its peak, so it looks a little squashed.

Our first iris

We planted green-dotted snowflakes (Leucojum aestivum) among the roses, and most of them are blooming confusedly on abnormally short stems.

Snowflakes (Leucojum aestivum) have an endearing modesty and primness

A particularly ambitious but confused little snowflake--all of 2.5" tall

The iris and snowflakes are the only bright spots in an otherwise desolated garden. Those cold snaps in the 20s really put the kaibosh on the usual staple winter plants in Central Texas. Our rose garden looks especially grim.

Amidst the general devastation in the rose garden, I do kind of like the arching, looping structure of this 'New Dawn' climbing rose

Meanwhile, at least we do have a nice green lawn... of a sorts. The St. Augustine--loathesome stuff--is all browny-grey, but we have large patches of this pretty ferny unknown. It's like a zillion little carrot seedlings. No idea what it actually is, but it's a nice bright green, and it's unfazed by frost, so I'm happy enough to see it.

Our "lawn"

New Table
Someone on a listserv I belong to (called "HerDomain"--for women in technology in the Austin area) offered this table from the 1920s for sale for $200. Now's not the best moment for us to be buying furniture, what with the ongoing fireplace project, gutter project, pond project, and an upcoming professional development training session I'll be attending, but the price sounded pretty darn good to me, especially for a table made out of real wood that is period-appropriate to the house. And we've been wanting to replace that tile-top table (such a pain to clean, and wobbly to boot) for ages.

So I ignored my checking account's indignant squeals and... voila!

I like to think that this is more or less how Spiderman would protect his furniture during transport, if he had a trailer.

Braced for highway travel

It's a bit small, but it's in very good shape and has nifty draw-leaf action. Looks good, no?

The new table in its new home

Christmas in San Antonio

The awesome Tree of Tillandsia with a neat statue at the SA Botanical Gardens

Jingle BELL time / Is a SWELL time...
Matt and I just got back from our annual(ish) Christmas trip to San Antonio to see the lights on the Riverwalk. Every year SA hangs these big C9-style lights in Mexicanish colors (red AND fuchsia, plus gold, blue and green) in the giant old baldcypresses on the Riverwalk. There are luminaries (real ones, with candles--take that, Santa Fe!) and the bridges are outlined in lights and everything reflects in swirly patterns in the water. It's a totally artificial environment (the "river" closely resembles the water rides at Epcot), but that doesn't really matter because it's so sparkly and otherworldly.

This year we decided to spend the night. We paid for a room a couple months in advance through Expedia (the only way to handle the expense at this already pricey time of year) at the fanciest hotel I've ever stayed at: the toiletries were by Aveda! I came away with about $30 in travel products after just a single night's stay. It was called the Hotel Contessa and is directly on the river, which was our principle criterion. We had big windows looking right down on the Riverwalk, which was a neat, if somewhat underutilized, feature. This was our sitting room (yeah, that's right: a sitting room. It's where we entertained visiting business tycoons and foreign dignitaries).

Well, where would YOU entertain the ambassador from Lesotho?

The Windcrest Light Up
First we drove through the Windcrest lights display. Windcrest is a town/neighborhood in SA that's famous for its lights. We didn't have good directions and drove around for a while in this rather lame neighborhood near Windcrest thinking, "Wow, this place is really overrated." Then we found the right spot and it took about 30 minutes in line to get in. Tip #1 for Windcrest visitors: get a reliable map and go in one of the side ways--the front way (by the Presbyterian church on Midcrown) is a mad, homicidal crush.

Some of the displays were pretty impressive, but it was spotty--there were definitely some unspirited backwaters. Tip #2: download Windcrest's map of their winning homes and draw out a route to follow--otherwise you'll wander aimlessly like Rapunzel's boyfriend in the wilderness.

The best--in my opinion--was the massive light display choreographed to this Michael Bay-esque rendering of Christmas carols--full orchestra, fast paced, lots of percussion, and gratuitous explosions (just kidding about that last). It sounded like the theme from Pirates of the Caribbean, but it was actually "The Little Drummer Boy." There was a tree made of several layers of lights that lit in independent spirals going in opposite directions, there was a waterwall effect of lights draped over the front of the house, there were stars on the roof that each came on independently, and there were copious tree and bush wrappings. And it was all linked to the music. We've got a choreographed display here in Elgin, but I gotta tell you, the Michael Bay Christmas was all that, squared, with fudge sauce and a cherry.

San Antonio Botanical Gardens
And then we went to the SA Botanical Gardens this morning, which was fun. Even though many of the plants were frost-nipped, the weather was so crisp and blue and cool that this was easily my favorite visit to the SABOT ever (all previous visits involved buckets of sweat).

They had a new (to us) series of entomological sculptures made of wood. Here, Matt shakes his fist defiantly at one of three giant invading ants. I'm sorry to say that the ant looked completely unfazed.

Man vs. Nature: Matt and the giant invader ants.

The conservatory complex had some of the most interesting displays, I thought. Here's a sculpture/fountain by the conservatory pond.

"Cupid's Fountain" by Susan Budge in a shady nook at the conservatory pond

And here's an absolutely ass-kicking Tillandsia sp. [?] from the main conservatory, seen from below. (Unmarked. Naturally. It's always the ones you're most interested in that are unlabeled.)

A Tillandsia [?] from below

The Tillandsia was from this fantastic tree full of them (and other bromeliads) in the conservatory. I thought the statue was pretty darn cool, too, though she has a bunch of upsetting spiky things inside the aperture in her head. The sculptor, Susan Budge, seems very interested in the idea of the vagina dentata (a meme that pops up in different time periods around the globe, positing the notion that some women's special equipment comes enhanced with teeth. That's right--teeth. I'm not making this up--see Wikipedia for details. Men can be so weird sometimes.) I kinda get wanting to play with this particular phobia (as the bad fairy in Shrek II maliciously says, "Let's explore that, shall we?"), but the upshot is a little more disruptive than I usually like my bromediad experiences--although those also tend to involve toothed apertures (Mother Nature--so kinky!) In any event: pretty neat statue from the outside. Just don't peer too closely into its face.

The Tree of Tillandsia, which looks absolutely gorgeous with the grey-aqua of this kinky statue

SABOT has a number of Crinum in their "Old-Fashioned Garden" (naturally, but sadly, not in bloom now), but they also had this blooming apparition veiled in mist in the Fern house.

Crinum in the mist

Other items of interest
I am so fond of this shrimp plant. It's not as awesome as my favorite, 'Fruit Cocktail,' but it's a pretty strong contender, with its luminous ivory bracts, lightly tinted with green.

Ivory shrimp plant

Also, Matt and I were impressed with someone's inventiveness in applying plant materials from around the gardens to a wreath. The brown comes from the trunk of palm trees, the blue is from Arizona Cypress, the green is (presumably) some other kind of cypress, and the palm fronds are, well, palm fronds. All embellished with ball moss--not as pretty as Spanish moss (Tillandsia usneoides), but much more authentic to the area.

Wreath from garden materials

We also enjoyed the demonstration gardens with the tiny, tiny houses. They're meant to showcase different waterwise landscaping styles (our landscape--by happenstance, not intention--is largely cottage, with a pinch of wildlife-friendly).

As sometime plant snobs, we were particularly amused by the unspoken commentary on the conventional, suburban landscape--the lot representing this "style" had the dullest house, painted the dullest color, with a big flat stretch of St Augustine, capped off with a row of boxwoods and another row of redtips (two of the dullest foundation shrubs available).

Message: you can be funky-cool like the xeriscapic house, innovative and integrated into nature like the wildlife and Hill Country houses, soulful like the Mexican courtyard house, or drearily conformist and white bread, like the dead-eyed automata at the traditional house.

The tiny, tiny houselets of "Watersaver Lane" Patio Man and the Sprawl People live in the beige house behind the Photinia. The Hill Country and Wildlife houses are beyond.

...And then home again this afternoon in time to upload some pix and blog about it.

Giant philodendron in the Fern house

Catch Up

Half-frozen 'Cramoisi Superieur' buds

Garden Update
It's been a rough several weeks from a blogly perspective. I had to work late a lot, it's dark all the damn time as far as I can tell, and on the few occasions that I'm out during the daylight, it's dull and washy, through a dense curtain of frigid mist (that's "frigid" as defined in the South--low 40s to low 30s--not Minnesota frigid, which I gather makes the ice planet of Hoth look like the Garden of Eden).

Needless to say, we have not spent a lot of time in the garden lately. And the news from the garden is not particularly fun, anyway. We got our first hard freeze a week or so ago, and it caught 'Cramoisi Superieur' and 'Duchesse de Brabant' with bushes heavy with buds, all now dangling dully from their stems. 'Souvenir de la Malmaison' had several big, fat, petally blossoms and buds, which froze into solid wilted blobs that are now rotting on the ground.

A couple of hopeless 'Souvenir de la Malmaison' buds

But now that heavy-hitting bloomers like Cramoisi and the Duchesse have been in the ground for over 2 years, I think they'll probably rebound and bloom again if we have a long enough period above freezing. After all, they're finally getting rain, a fact that is probably making the sap rush deleriously through their half-dessicated xylem and phloem.

'Green Ice,' that miniature paragon, is chugging along, undaunted. As usual, it is completely outblooming the tiresome parvenu 'Knockout.'

In House News
We finally replaced the tap in the guest bath. It look a long time because there is no such thing as a cheap faucet for pedestal or claw-footed tubs. They're all painfully expensive. I finally found the model I wanted (Barclay Products Limited 4025PL Wall Mounted Tub Filler w/Hand Shower) on eBay for $125--over $100 dollars cheaper than the nearest competitor.

Handsome new "tub filler" (what's up with that name, anyway? Is "faucet" insufficiently smarmy?)

And we also got some cellular shades for the window, so now our guests can be both clean and private. The room's not done (needs a new mirror, a new bath shelf, some sort of stool or small stand, a small antique dresser or bachelor chest, and the A/C vent needs to be moved about 7 feet toward the door so it doesn't blow on people's faces at night.

Nevertheless. Good progress. Rome wasn't built in a day. From little acorns mighty oak trees grow. Slow and steady wins the race. Or, as Jon Stewart puts it, "Keep fuckin' that chicken."

The other big house new is that we're planning to install a ventless gas fireplace in the living room as our Christmas present to each other. This is going to be a many-stage process because we want a custom surround and, ultimately, a pair of built-in bookshelves on either side. This is all going to take a very long time, so we're just going to start with a wooden platform and the firebox. Below is a composite of fireplaces I found online that looks more or less like what we're going for.

The long-term goal, more or less. Brought to you by the magic of Photoshop.

We've already bought 6 vintage Helman Art Nouveau tiles to go above the fireplace--we'll find some (cheaper) coordinating modern tiles to go around that. Shout-out to the folks who sold us the tiles, by the way: we love the tiles--they're even prettier in real life than they were on the web; they're in terrific condition; and when the shipping came out to more than they had estimated, they reduced the cost of the tiles so that the total remained the same. They company's called Recycling the Past, and they have a great selection and really good prices. Love them.

Our lovely period tile from Recycling the Past

In Culinary News

After Thanksgiving our local HEB had pork loin half off, at which point I fell off the local meat wagon and bought one. Because look at that thing--it's longer than my arm!


I brined it and then we grilled it per the directions at the Grilling Companion, and it turned out completely delectable--juicy, smoky, fork-tender, and flavorful. I think pork is in the process of becoming my Second Meat: first chicken, then pork, then beef or lamb. (Lamb would be my Second Meat, if it weren't so darn expensive.) Must go back to buying it locally, though.

And Finally, the Big News
I bought a car! I've been saving up for ages, and I finally bought a replacement for my late lamented 1995 Accord: a 2010 Honda Insight (hybrid). It's lovely and complex, and I think it's even rather sporty. I'm still amazed that I'm sufficiently adult and responsible that financing companies want to give me cars, but hey, I'm not gonna complain.

My new baby. It was rather cold out, as you may have inferred.

Happy Halloween from Elgin, TX

Happy Halloween on this idyllic autumn day.

At the last possible minute, I threw together a sort of decoration, since we'll be home tonight and distributing candy. Last night buying candy at Walgreen's (on sale! Procrastinators rule!), I found these two sets of these rather endearing ghost lights (half off), and I thought, "Why the heck not?" So I hung them, dug out our modest collection of Halloween doo-dads, and added a little All-Hallows flair to the front porch.

Pumpkin-Girl. Maybe it's time to scrape the excess paint from 2-1/2 years ago off the window?

Halloween doo-dads

Meanwhile, there a lots of nice blooms going on. 'Ducher,' the only white China rose, is flourishing. Appropriate to the season, this blossom is housing a leggy little arachnid.

'Ducher' rose with seasonally appropriate spider

Matt's pink Turk's Cap (Malvaviscus arboreus) is in bloom. It's a rather unusual cultivar, but these shell pink flowers, I think, are at least as charismatic as the common red. Less brilliant, but more graceful. The color of a 1940s synchronized swimmer's cap. Neither the shady picture nor the sunny picture came out exactly right, so I included both to help you get a better feel for the plant.

Pink Turk's Cap (#1)

Pink Turk's Cap (#2)

And 'Mademoiselle Franziska Krüger' is sporting some especially nice blooms right now. This delicate bud shows her more demure side...

'Mademoiselle Franziska Krüger' bud

...while the wadded tissue look of this fully open blossom is her more characteristic style. Note the color variation--buff with an irregular pink splodge down the middle--that's typical of Franziska, who has a distinctly eccentric streak.

Fully open 'Mlle. Franziska' blossom

The purple Dyckia that I bought a couple weeks ago at Peckerwood's fall open house seems to be settling in.

Purple Dyckia

And the watering system has given the 'Kimberly Queen' ferns from Mom a whole new perspective on life. The front porch looks very lush and much more private now.

A happy 'Kimberly Queen' fern

'Fairy Tale' pumpkins