Plant This: Spuria iris bloom at last


About 4 years after acquiring them, my spuria iris are blooming at last. Passalongs from Linda Lehmusvirta of Central Texas Gardener, who told me she received her divisions from author/designer Scott Ogden, these tall (about 3 feet), beardless irises would send up their slender leaves each winter, attaining a lovely, grassy look by spring, but never bloom. In summer they melted away, going dormant for the season.

Having always been successful growing bearded iris, I was frustrated by the tease of the spurias.


They came up in conversation with Scott and his wife, Lauren, also a designer and author, during a visit to their garden two years ago. Lauren told me not to move them around, as I’d been doing in hopes of finding the right spot for them. Spurias resent being transplanted and divided, she advised. So I put away my shovel and just let them be.


I sat out another bloomless year and became convinced that they were in too much shade, although Linda and Scott both said spurias could take some shade in our hot climate (they need sun in cooler-summer climates). My hands were itching for the shovel. One more year, I promised myself, and then I’ll try another spot.


And then, late this spring, I noticed buds. Yay! Now they’re blooming—an elegant, burnt-gold flower with chocolate striping on the petals. My shovel is nowhere in sight.

Note: My Plant This posts are written primarily for gardeners in central Texas. The plants I recommend are ones I’ve grown myself and have direct experience with. I wish I could provide more information about how these plants might perform in other parts of the country, but gardening knowledge is local. Consider checking your local online gardening forums to see if a particular plant might work in your region.

Lawn Gone! News
If you’d like to hear the podcast of my Earth Day appearance on “The Faith Middleton Show,” which airs on public radio in Connecticut and New York, visit the link and then hit the black triangle “play” button. Faith and I talked about replacing the lawn with low-care grasses and “people places” and creating an inviting, greener landscape—AND she made my book the station’s pledge-drive prize!

You’re Invited!
I’ll be at BookPeople on Saturday, May 4, at 4 pm , along with author Jenny Peterson, to talk briefly about design tips for losing the lawn or paring it back. Jenny will be sharing styling tips for houseplants. And we newbie authors will BOTH be signing copies of our books! Whether you have a green thumb or a brown one, let’s fill up BookPeople with people who care about plants and the earth!

The talk is free and open to the public, and I’d love to see a lot of friendly faces! If you do want an autographed book, BookPeople requires an in-store purchase. Just FYI.

All material © 2006-2013 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Plant This: Abutilon, or flowering maple


Does your central Texas garden need a boost in late winter? Then add a few flowering maples and enjoy colorful, lantern-like blossoms that either hang pendant or are held horizontally on short stems. Large, maple-shaped leaves are a bonus, especially if you choose a showy, variegated variety.


Long thought of strictly as houseplants north of the tropics, abutilons popped up several years ago in local nurseries for outdoor plantings. Here in Austin’s hot-summer, mild-winter zone 8b, they seem to do best in dappled shade or brief morning sun. Exceptionally cold weather will kill them, so even in Austin it might be a good idea to grow them close to the house for a little more protection. I wouldn’t classify abutilon as drought-tolerant, but it does surprisingly well even in the dry dappled-shade of my live oaks with once-a-week irrigation in summer. Abutilon blooms best in cooler weather—late winter through spring and again in the late fall. Don’t look for blossoms during the summer.

I’ve tried several cultivars or hybrids, including ‘Souvenir de Bonn’, a veined, orange-blooming abutilon with pale-yellow edging on the leaves. It has grown quite tall (about 5-1/2 feet), and I think I will prune it back by half when blooming slows down with summer’s approach.


I also have several of this unnamed pink, from Barton Springs Nursery, which tops out at about 2-1/2 feet.


I tried this prostrate, two-toned variety called ‘Candy Corn’, but it didn’t survive the hot, droughty summer of 2011.


Similar-looking but upright and dependable ‘Marilyn’s Choice’ was my first abutilon, and I still grow several of these.


Another commonly seen abutilon in Austin is ‘Patrick’s', with large, golden-orange blossoms marked with prominent, red-orange veins.


Here’s a lovely abutilon, name unknown, that I photographed in James David’s garden a number of years ago. As you’d expect, his is sited particularly well, its skinny, flamingo-like “legs” hidden behind a trough fountain, allowing the leaves and blossoms to arch over the top.

I’m trying a new abutilon soon, a salmon-orange hybrid called ‘Bartley Schwarz’, which I’ve ordered from Plant Delights. I hope it does well.

Are you growing any abutilons, either indoors or out? If not, what are you waiting for?

Note: My Plant This posts are written primarily for gardeners in central Texas. The plants I recommend are ones I’ve grown myself and have direct experience with. I wish I could provide more information about how these plants might perform in other parts of the country, but gardening knowledge is local. Consider checking your local online gardening forums to see if a particular plant might work in your region.

All material © 2006-2013 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.

Plant This: Texas persimmon


One of my favorite small trees for winter interest is Texas persimmon (Diospyros texana), which occurs naturally in central and south Texas but is found as far east as Houston and as far west as Big Bend National Park. This picture, which I took at a client’s house yesterday, shows why you’d want it in your garden: just look at those milky white, muscular trunks and branches! They attract attention all year but really stand out during our quieter winters, when gray-green and tan are the dominant hues. I like how these homeowners have planted deep-green rosemary beneath their stand of persimmons, offering a nice contrast with the white trunks.


In my own garden, I inherited a number of Texas persimmons, several of which are growing in cracks between huge slabs of limestone. This is, as you can see, a tough, drought-tolerant tree. Growth is slow, and so it’s probably priced higher than faster-growing trees at the nursery. Give it well-drained soil and full sun to part sun.


I think Texas persimmon looks best pruned up into a multi-trunked small tree, like a crepe myrtle, the better to show off the white trunks and branches. Unlike a crepe myrtle, however, Texas persimmon lacks showy, colorful flowers, and its leathery, small leaves aren’t much to write home about either. It’s really all about the bark and shapely limbs.

Texas persimmon is described as semi-evergreen. In Austin some trees drop their leaves in winter (like the ones pictured at top) and others, like mine, simply thin out and then drop their leaves in late winter, with only a month of bare branches before the new leaves appear. Others, especially further south, hold onto their leaves all winter and only drop them as the new leaves come in, just as live oaks do.


The small black fruit (about 1 inch diameter), which appears in early fall, occurs only on female trees. All my trees are male, apparently, because I never see any of the dark, berry-like persimmons, which are edible and also a favorite of wildlife. That’s fine with me, since my biggest Texas persimmon hangs partially over our pool.

So if you need a 10-15 ft. tree for a hot, sunny spot with rocky soil, or even a well-drained spot with some clay and some shade, try Texas persimmon. Look for it at Barton Springs Nursery, the Natural Gardener, or the Wildflower Center’s spring native-plant sale.

Note: My Plant This posts are written primarily for gardeners in central Texas. The plants I recommend are ones I’ve grown myself and have direct experience with. I wish I could provide more information about how these plants might perform in other parts of the country, but gardening knowledge is local. Consider checking your local online gardening forums to see if a particular plant might work in your region.

All material © 2006-2013 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.