Well, there you have it. About the only thing that's standing up to the cold in my yard. I'll never skip planting ornamental cabbage and kale after this year. I'm pretending they are giant purple, white and yellow flowers...that the bunnies like to eat. Bunnies, that's right...a trip to Callahan's to get a new apron, and I come home with bunnies. My friend Don told loving spouse and I after we rescued our 4th cat years ago..."why not just have a baby and stop collecting pets?" Phooey. Babbie's grow up, talk back, make messes, then leave after you've spent decades picking up after them and driving them here and there and oh the mouth! Not bunnies, or chickens, or kittens, or dogs. Thank you very much, I'm not crazy...I'm a wanna be urban farm girl.
Ornamental cabbage and kale
I got off my duff yesterday and finished a posting I'd started mid-December and took a few hours to check out some other blogs for the first time since before the hustle of the holiday began. This is such an odd year. Last year I refused to take a vacation for fear that my poor garden would die from lack of water and care and now Mother Nature seems to be punishing me for not trusting in her design. Slash, there goes my precious propagation garden...and all the lovely zone 9 plants I'd come to believe in, good bye my pretties...please, please, please come back in the spring.
The ice snake my hose vomited when I turned it on this morning.
I had a chat with Randy (Horselips Horsesense) yesterday and he said he was mulching like mad. He is mad. If it's going to be in the teens by Thursday I'm just calling it quits. When the sun comes out you can find me in the garden, until then, I have a stack of books, some yogi~tea and my heating pad cooing my name, and I aim to listen.
So much for my scented geranium, part of my companion planting project in the rose garden.
I stepped outside this morning to survey the damage...lots of stuff that I would have thought would make it, suffering so. Projects that held total fascination just a few months ago gone. Here it is January and I still have black spot? There's no heat and humidity? Stop it, stop it now!
The comforting thing about gardening to me is the beautiful simplicity, the ageless predictability about it all. If I have a crap day, I know that no matter what, something in my garden will look up at me through it's colorful eyes and thank me for loving it, being there, and I won't be judged for what I have to say. At least in Alaska Mother Nature had the decency to shield me from the destruction with her white cloak. Not here. Crunch, slime, squish...stepping through my yard hunting for a bloom. Pam (Digging) said in her blog yesterday that she had blooms on her abutilon, she had photos to prove it. So I went trekking back to my Patricks Abutilon and a big fat nada...even crunchy forest green tips, ready to crackle and fall if I touched them.
Black spot on an unidentified rose on the West side of my house.
Fortunately, this is the only rose suffering. The rest look okay, but not thriving like Annie's at The Transplantable Rose. Whhhhhhyyyy Meeeee (insert Nancy Kerrigan whine here.)
Peruvian Lilly and Spiderwort
The ice snake my hose vomited when I turned it on this morning.I had a chat with Randy (Horselips Horsesense) yesterday and he said he was mulching like mad. He is mad. If it's going to be in the teens by Thursday I'm just calling it quits. When the sun comes out you can find me in the garden, until then, I have a stack of books, some yogi~tea and my heating pad cooing my name, and I aim to listen.
So much for my scented geranium, part of my companion planting project in the rose garden.I stepped outside this morning to survey the damage...lots of stuff that I would have thought would make it, suffering so. Projects that held total fascination just a few months ago gone. Here it is January and I still have black spot? There's no heat and humidity? Stop it, stop it now!
The comforting thing about gardening to me is the beautiful simplicity, the ageless predictability about it all. If I have a crap day, I know that no matter what, something in my garden will look up at me through it's colorful eyes and thank me for loving it, being there, and I won't be judged for what I have to say. At least in Alaska Mother Nature had the decency to shield me from the destruction with her white cloak. Not here. Crunch, slime, squish...stepping through my yard hunting for a bloom. Pam (Digging) said in her blog yesterday that she had blooms on her abutilon, she had photos to prove it. So I went trekking back to my Patricks Abutilon and a big fat nada...even crunchy forest green tips, ready to crackle and fall if I touched them.
Black spot on an unidentified rose on the West side of my house.Fortunately, this is the only rose suffering. The rest look okay, but not thriving like Annie's at The Transplantable Rose. Whhhhhhyyyy Meeeee (insert Nancy Kerrigan whine here.)
Peruvian Lilly and SpiderwortCheck out this totally confused pair. Peruvian Lilly and Spiderwort got excited this Fall and decided to come up, thinking it was Spring. Now it's melting and covered with frost...after Thursday it'll be mush.
Marjoram
MarjoramMost of the herbs are doing okay, save the Marjoram and Mexican Mint Marigold, which have been with me now for 3 years...toast. I'm hoping that the root ball hasn't given up, yet.
Giant Red Mustard and Arugula 
Culinary Sage
Giant Red Mustard and Arugula Stand up! When I peeked out my kitchen window I saw all my greens fainting. Noooooo!
They are what keep me alive during the winter. I have to get out there and heap the remaining leaves on them after they get some sun this afternoon.
Culinary Sage Frost on the sage? I may as well kiss this baby goodbye. If it frosts over in the 30's she won't make it through the week.
Well, that's the Debbie Downer report from Central Texas, Crestview neighborhood in Austin. I just had to rant after the glorious touting from my fellow bloggers. Good for you all and bah- humbug. Don't look for me on Bloomday, I'll be deep in a novel.
Happy Gardening!
