House & Garden

This is the excerpt for your very first post.

In June of 2015, I decided to buy a 1930’s tudor-style house in Palestine, Texas.  Although the house was cute (Photo:, it needed (still needs) work, and I was loathe to tackle it.  I’d ridden the renovation rodeo at my former home and wanted off the bull. However, after looking at quite a few houses, it was the backyard (large with ancient trees and plenty of room to garden) not the house that sold me on this particular property.

If you look through the end of the house photos in the link above, you will come to the backyard, which is huge and configured oddly, sort of like a fat rectangle with a box added on one side to accommodate the shed. (I didn’t believe the box belonged to the property until I saw the survey for myself.)  It makes no sense.  Life makes no sense.  It’s okay.

After six months of unpacking, I started work on the garden–a plant here, some seeds there, and finally a fenced-in vegetable area.  I want the best of both worlds–veggies and ornamental plants.

This garden is still very much a baby and a work in progress.  It took more than 10 years for my former garden to finally come into its own, so a garden that is a little over a year old is in its infancy.

Honesty time:  I’m a terrible photographer.  Worse than your 5 year old or your dog trying to pretend he didn’t dig a hole when he has dirt all over his nose.  I try my best, but you’re forewarned.  Pixels and blurriness mean little to me.  Therefore, I ask you kindly to use your imagination to pretend my photos are sharp and extremely colorful.  Also, I’m a self-taught gardener, and I’m absolutely certain I don’t always get the botanical names spelled correctly, if and when I use them.


One of the first tasks I wanted to accomplish in the new yard was to install a brick pathway.

At my former home, my husband laid two brick paths on sand, and I loved them. His labor was also free.–A real bonus!

I’m a frugal person, and brick paths aren’t cheap, butI knew I couldn’t install one easily by myself…so I bit the bullet and hired a mason to put in the path you see above while he was re-pointing the bricks on the house.  He gave me a deal, but it was still (gasp) expensive. Hopefully, I’ll never install another one.

The bricks you see that create the border to either side of the pathway were scavenged from around the yard.  They are old, and some were buried in the ground more than 8 inches deep. (I have no idea why.) The bricks that make up the path  came from Acme and are clay pavers.

view-from-deck The mess you see at the end of the path is my vegetable garden.  (It looks much better now. Seriously.)  The area to the left in the photo above (taken six months ago) I’ve dubbed the “ugly area” and I’ve been working diligently to improve it.–It consists of dirt only.

Plants in both bricked beds are red Turk’s Cap (4, grown from seed), blue mist flower (1), cardinal flower (2), yaupon holly (2 provided by birds), hydrangea (a gift) (1), pink Turk’s Cap (1), astilbe, bleeding heart (2), wood fern (1), prairie phlox (1), abutilon (1), columbine (3 originally, now 1), purple heart (2), variegated society garlic (11), False Lamium (1), Indian pink (2), Bugleweed Chocolate Chip (3), Helleborus o. ‘Sunshine Selection’ (3), unknown alliums (purchased at an estate sale, 5), and Farfugium ‘Last Dance’ (1)    Whew, that’s enough!

And what is the unattached ironwork on each side of the path that sticks out like a sore thumb?  Those are two sides of a gate.  They look odd in this photo, but not so much any more with potted plants and foliage to anchor them.

So this post is a start.  I need to take more photos and probably write less.  ~ Grin ~ Thanks for reading.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s