You know its August in Alabama . . .

You know its August in Alabama . . .when the outdoor plants try to come inside for some relief from the heat and humidity.

This confederate jasmine lives in a large container on the driveway between our garage doors.  Although it officially blooms in the spring, there are usually a few fragrant blooms on it most of the year. 

This summer's weather has been characterized by high humidity and frequent rain showers, stimulating the jasmine to extraordinary growth.  It has sent out extremely long runners that began wrapping around the garage door facing and into the garage. 

While I thought this was fantastic fun, Bob was beginning to feel like he was in one of those plant horror films in which the plants begin to overrun the universe.  He was sure the jasmine was reaching out for his car every time he drove through the doorway. 

I trimmed the runners back about a week ago but when I watered yesterday, I noticed two or three runners on their way back into the garage.  The poor vine is just trying to find some shade and relief from the August heat.  Don't tell Bob.

Learning to landscape

When we purchased our home 28 years ago, the foundation planting consisted of overgrown holly that literally prevented the use of the front steps.  After several years of trying to contain those monster shrubs, I realized that a new landscape plan was definitely in order. 

My first try was barberry because I loved the nearly true red foliage.  This turned out to be a disaster, I just replaced sticky bushes for a thorny ones.  Even though they are semi-evergreen, in my front yard, they were totally deciduous.  For several months each winter, my foundation planting looked like Sleeping Beauty's bramble patch, not very inviting and seriously painful if you happened to bump into them.

It became obvious that I needed to make another try at landscaping the front of my house.  This time, I carefully researched and decided on Ruby Chang loropetalum, red evergreen foliage but without any thorns.  Since my house has two levels, I wanted to create a little vertical interest so I picked out two dwarf crepe myrtles that the tag said would have dark pink flowers and whose height would max out at about 10 feet.

The loropetalum have performed beautifully.  They have filled out the space and require only an annual trim to keep them from growing too tall.  The new growth is dark red and each spring we are treated to masses of bright pink blossoms.

The crepe myrtles have not done so well.  Once again, my choice didn't grow in the manner I had envisioned.  They grew and grew and grew some more until they towered over the house.  At eye level the only part of the shrubs we could see were naked stems.  The shrub on the side of the house grew into a full grown tree, requiring me to carefully keep a section pruned out of the center to accommodate our power lines.  I even tried a version of crepe "murder" in a attempt to return these overgrown monsters back to the dwarf size I was promised.

I finally resigned myself to removing them entirely.  My long-suffering son-in-law, Skip, spent a couple of hours with me yesterday to cut them down.  The landscape looks better already.  I must fight the urge to replace them with anything, although I may propagate one more loropetalum to wrap around the side of the house.

Professional landscape designers use the phrase "right plant, right place" to remind all of us to make sure we think first, then plant.  Maybe someday I will learn my lesson.

Following in the footsteps of greatness

My son, Rob, recently visited Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, in Virginia.  He brought me a book about this historic plantation and some seeds that were harvested there. 

While we all studied Thomas Jefferson in school as the writer of our Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson considered himself a farmer and Monticello as his opportunity to learn as much as he could about growing plants.

I was amazed to read that Jefferson was passionate about farming and gardening concepts that we think of as quite modern ideas.  He developed good soil through the application of mulch and compost (manure), loved native plants, used the topography of the land to extend growing seasons, and was willing to try new ideas and plants even if that meant failure occasionally.  He journaled all of his gardening experiences to keep track of his efforts. 

While my backyard is not an Alabama Monticello, I love the idea that I am following in the footsteps of a great American gardener.  I am already looking forward to growing some of his seeds in my backyard.