The woman who owned our home before us was such an avid gardener she planted the neighbor’s side yard. Azaleas lined the walkway. Lantana bushes surrounded the mailbox. She had an intricate sprinkler system on an automatic timer. The yard was bursting with hydrangeas and ferns. Six years later, the yard is one of the greenest on the block. Weeds will do that. The hydrangeas are gone. The sprinklers pulled up. The lantanas mowed down. The azaleas, well some of those are still alive. Apparently those bushes are drought and general neglect resistant.
So it strikes us as funny that whenever my husband does a post on the garden people comment on his green thumb. Others talk about how nice it must be to have space to grow or such a long growing season down here in the South. We’re not complaining, except about the heat.
Our yard is only a quarter of an acre, and the garden is not as grand as the ones our blogging friends in Connecticut or Rhode Island or Spain have. We hear everything is bigger in Texas. Still we’re having a bumper tomato crop and our potted plants, all herbs this year, are doing well. Greg loves spending time in the garden because the results are tangible. Neither of us care much for a higher water bill or a neon green, weed-free lawn.
I took these photos on a recent weekend. My photography skills do not rival those of my husband, so humor me please. The picture above is of our sage plant, which survives over winter. The tree behind it is an example of how not to prune a crape myrtle or rather what one looks like when it isn’t pruned. The picture below is our larger mint plant. We also have one on the back porch. We like our mint.
Below is one of our two oregano plants. Look lower at the expanse of brown interspersed with tiny spots of green. That’s grass making a futile attempt to grow.
The rosemary bushes Greg planted shortly after we moved in have taken over what we had envisioned to be an herb garden. They’ve survived multiple canine intrusions, by our no-fence-can-hold-me back dog.
So what is left from the previous homeowner? We inherited most of the pots from her, the plastic Adirondacks and a freaky assortment of concrete garden accessories. (If you look past the chubby boy/friend of bunnies and the on high alert rabbit, you can once again see how well tended our lawn is.)
She also left us this dogwood and what at one time may have been a flower garden. Greg wants to tear out the tree to plant more tomatoes next year. I’m resisting. Call me sentimental, but having something with pretty blooms in the yard that doesn’t need to be watered is still nice. Although, tomatoes really do taste better.