Putting the weeds to work for Us

[Mylochka]

The porch is relatively small, but a great place to drink a cool drink and talk, or do craft projects that require open ventilation, or enjoy a thunderstorm... mmm...wish we could have one of those about now.  When the heat and drought stretch out into September... and sometimes even October... (sigh) it really starts to wear you down... My poor, poor, crunchy, beige yard....!

[Buster's Uncle]

Almost 26 hours after the last set of pictures were taken, I'd spent half the day stripping out all the vines that had grown up through the tall rosebush at the other end of the yard, threatening to choke it out.   (No before and after pictures of that, alas, but it really needed doing for the rosebush's sake.)  Most of that, I just pulled out, uprooted and killed, but I saved one bit that came through the experience relatively undamaged.  It had grown up over 15 feet, and I did another transplant.

I wish there was some magic way to eliminate the trees and all green in the background, or I could go back in time and magically hang a giant black sheet behind the vines so you could make out a lot more detail.  If you look closely enough, you may be able to make out significant new growth creeping up the front right curlicue thingy near the top, beginning to form the arch I planned. 

The newest transplant is bare vine for the first ten feet from the ground, but I managed to preserve a lot of the leaves that grew up top in the rosebush, and for the first time, I had leafy vines reaching into the middle between the frames.  I really wish all that showed better.  You can see the bare part of the new vine clearly enough in the left-hand edge of the second attachment.

I scratched up my arms amazingly little, considering how many thorny branches I thrust my arms through for hours.  May 16th was not my laziest day of manual labor ever.

I knew I had inflicted too much trauma on the newest addition pulling it out of rosebush way over my head and reach, in addition to the uprooting and transplanting, (the runners for snailseed send down strong taproots every five-ten feet that you can never seem to get all of) to expect much growth this year, but hope springs eternal, and if the main stem survives the winter alive, it should do a lot towards the eventual goal of growing vine to fill in the space clear over to the tree off to the far left, forming a bit of a vine wall on both sides of the gate where the tree won't let bushes form a sort of hedge.

I'd made a lot of progress at this point in rearranging the native vine on the left from the front to go up the inside of the gate...

[Dio]

That yard is already looking a lot better.

[Buster's Uncle]

The yard had a nice wet spring.  You should see how the grass looked when we got back from America in August.

[Dio]

The porch is relatively small, but a great place to drink a cool drink and talk, or do craft projects that require open ventilation, or enjoy a thunderstorm... mmm...wish we could have one of those about now.  When the heat and drought stretch out into September... and sometimes even October... (sigh) it really starts to wear you down... My poor, poor, crunchy, beige yard....!

The yard had a nice wet spring.  You should see how the grass looked when we got back from America in August.

So that is what she meant when she said her poor crunchy beige yard...

We almost never have a "wet spring" or any other season. We are lucky if it cools down below 70 degrees fahereinheit in the winter. Also, the only time you really see green and not brown/yellow/dead plants, other than a few hardy trees and cacti, is after a prolonged rain.

[Buster's Uncle]

I am reminded of an episode of Remington Steele that began with Pierce Brosnan looking out the window over LA, saying "This is -- obscene.  80 degrees on Christmas day."

Ah - found a transcript: "'Ninety seven degrees is more than a little warm. Ninety seven degrees on Christmas Eve is obscene. Should be big fat snowflakes, falling. Jack Frost nipping at your heels. Speaking of things nipping at your heels, where's Miss Holt?' he asks, pacing."

Close enough to remembering from 1985...




Nothing to say about my project, Rusty?

[Rusty Edge]

It's beautiful. I knew you were energetic and productive,  but you have more patience than I imagined! That's a great job of re-arranging.

I must admit my wife and I would be jealous .We would love to have ironwork like that, but it doesn't fit with the subdivision rules.

I guess I haven't said much because whenever I look at this thread I get focused on the weather discussions and forget about the original topic. I spent some time looking for pictures or mention of Texas highway remelts as a counterpoint to the Russian weather stories, or considered  relating my experience in a fifty below wind chill.

As for the vines themselves, I never gave them much thought until now. PA has poison oak. VA has Virginia creeper. GA has Kudzu.  I knew that.

So this vine is something called a moonseed, common in the Carolinas?

[Buster's Uncle]

Carolina Moonseed (or Snailseed - it answers to both about equally in my webs research) seems to be all over the South.  I don't think it's anywhere much west of here.

It may be more common here than in the Carolinas for all I know - I've seen a lot of vines like it, but only identified this species in particular back in May, and haven't looked very hard for it at home over the summer.  All I really know is that it doesn't look much like something so hardy it can prosper in North Texas summers, and it really didn't prosper, but surviving July and August here in decent health is IMPRESSIVE.

[Buster's Uncle]

So the morning of 21 May dawned overcast - perfect for one last set of pictures before we left for America.

Pray compare the first picture I snapped at the beginning:


-To one 16 days later:


The vines took a week of watering and pampering to begin really responding and making new growth, but the shoots were finally becoming significant - I REALLY didn't want to go home and abandon my current project at this point.  Still, most of the progress you see between the two shots in such a short time is artificial.  I spent hours a day painstakingly unraveling vines from the great mass to the right and weaving them gently into the trellis.

I've never not wanted to go home before from the 'Great' Nation of Texas...

[Geo]

Your yard seems, to what I know of American standards, a bit of small-sized?
It looks to what I'd expect from yards in my area. fenced with bushes or covers so the neighbours can't cast looks in it.

[Unorthodox]

Don't know that we've really seen enough to judge.  We're only seeing the area with the vine gate, and haven't seen the front yard at all. 

Also depends on the area.  Some areas, especially in more urban areas, have VERY tiny yards.  The standard very much depends on where you are. 

Am I correct in my understanding that this stuff is poisonous?  No danger the dog's going to go eating it? 

[Buster's Uncle]

It is supposed to be poisonous to humans, though not extremely so.  I guess the dogs would have eaten some by now if they were gonna.

The front yard is tiny.  The back is about the size you'd expect in the 'burbs.

[Buster's Uncle]

So Mylochka went back to Texas after less than a month, and on the 18th of June, she took a few shots of my project to send me.  And --

WHOAH!  I gather that the wet spring ended about the time we left, but it hadn't gotten very dry yet.  The last transplant didn't make it without watering, (though the roots have already made a few new shoots since, and I'm sure will produce next year), but the rest had done VERY well without me.

 

The flowers in the latter two shots are on trees in the background.  This barely flowers so you'd notice at all, and much later in the year.  It's supposed to produce pretty red berries, but I don't recall ever noticing.

[Unorthodox]

Appears some dead leaves there?  Any idea what happened. 

Looking much improved.  Any plans to make a canopy over the whole area, or just the arch/gate?

[Buster's Uncle]

The last transplant didn't make it without watering, (though the roots have already made a few new shoots since, and I'm sure will produce next year)

I did more with the top/arch since, but no plans thus far for anything more.  The future at this location is in flux.