Hill Country Mysteries

Hill Country Sculpture Gardens

2012-02-03T15:09:00.000-06:00

I missed a few weeks blogging. But since the goats in my last post, I've laid down pages and pictures for other venues on 18th century colonial life, Texas native trees, wildlife gardening and more. Among the most fun was this short article about visiting the beginning and the end of American colonial times, Jamestown and Yorktown, Virginia.

Jamestown is a long way from the Hill Country and there's no connection to Texas, except curiosity, so it doesn't rightly belong in a Hill Country blog.

But life is all of a piece...and isn't it a good thing that we can eat the cake of experience wherever we find it.

Entrance to the sculpture garden at The Old Oaks Ranch Fiber Arts Center, Wimberley.

I'm working now on a story I'm calling The Hill Country Sculpture Garden Trail. Five exceptional collections, all open-air. I'm amazed at finding five oases of three-dimensional thought less than two hours drive apart, and off well-known tourist tracks.

<---from Main Street, Marble Falls

The Hill Country Sculpture Garden Trail doesn't exist yet, except in my mind...until my story is published.

You might be thinking it doesn't sound like work-- taking drives in the scenic Texas Hill Country. Or visiting venues where thought pauses for breath.
in the Umlauf Sculpture Garden, Austin

You might also think a bite of refreshment is more a reward than work.

And you would be right.

from the Fredericksburg Pie Company, Fredericksburg

The work comes later. But it's a good kind of work, reliving and sharing, opening new roads for unknown friends.

Copyright 2009-2012 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Those Dogs are New to the Neighborhood

2012-01-18T10:42:00.000-06:00

From a distance, I thought two of the dogs being walked down our street had an odd gait. What kind of dogs hold their heads up so high? Must be friendly, the little tails are wagging.

Then I got close enough to see...

Followed by a personal introduction to play, goat-style, which I'm sharing with you. Click below for 14 seconds of Hill Country smiles.

We never know what we'll see when we open our front door...

Copyright 2009-2012 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

She Stands Up for What She Wants

2012-01-10T10:30:00.000-06:00

Some folks believe raccoons are the smartest critters in the wild. They can go through your doggie door, open your cabinet, get your cereal out of the box, take the lids off your tupperware, and get back out before you know it. This is not a made-up story.

But the deer in our neighborhood are catching up.

To see evolution in action, click this quick video:

We never know what we'll see out of our front door...

Copyright 2009-2012 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Easy Resolutions

2012-01-02T14:20:00.000-06:00

The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper. --Bertrand Russell

I have two resolutions this year. Yes, I know I've said that I don't resolve...or at least I don't resolve beyond my standard:

Make new mistakes this year.

At which I've been spectacularly successful for umpty years.

But I'm adding this for 2012:

Be open to everyday beauty.

Last year, Ruby-throated and Black-chinned hummingbirds migrated through our Texas Hill Country in August and September.

Then a handful of Rufous hummingbirds showed up at the end of September. And never flew out, making 2011 our hummingbirdiest year, 11 months of visitation (we also hosted a hardy Rufous for last year's frigid January).

Now tiny copper-colored birds sip morning nectar at the feeder while we sip coffee at the kitchen table by the window.

I'm thinking my new resolution is going to be easy to keep.

Copyright 2009-2012 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Happy Holidays!

2011-12-24T06:00:00.000-06:00

The Longest Night

2011-12-21T20:02:00.000-06:00

We buried Max's ashes today, on the Winter Solstice, the day of the longest night of the year.

Max and Denny adopted each other 14 years ago, a long time to be friends. We're lucky, I guess, although it doesn't feel like it today, a week after the sudden illness that took him.

Max was the smart one, the diplomat, the one who watched basketball with Denny and kept me company in the kitchen. He loved baskets and boxes, he ate shoelaces and chased feathers. He owned the red chair next to the fireplace and the sunny window with a view of birds and deer. His purr was almost inaudible but he always meowed when we spoke his name.

We miss him.

I'm glad the days start getting longer tomorrow.

Mom Knows the Difference

2011-12-12T15:32:00.001-06:00

Last weekend I went to my folks' house to help Mom prepare for a family gathering. She'd sprained her foot a few days before and the doctor had immobilized it in a bulky black boot with enough straps to secure a rocket to the launchpad.

That didn't stop her from going to HEB, where she hopped on a motorized cart and we came home loaded. But when food prep started, there was a glitch.
"Mom, I can do this, why don't you go sit down?"

"Mom, really, go put your foot up."

...etc...

Finally:

"Mother, you don't listen very well."

She turned around and grinned.

"I listen fine. I just don't mind very well."

And she wonders where her daughters got their Texas streaks...

Doesn't Mom have the best smile?------------->

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

East Austin Studio Tour 2011

2011-12-01T12:36:00.001-06:00

Everyone has a different idea of art, but whether it's avant garde or classic, you love it or you hate it, art stimulates. And there was plenty of stimulation at this year's East Austin Studio Tour.

Each November more than 300 area artist studios and exhibition spaces open for 9 days of celebrating art and the people who make it. Many of the studios treat it like a party, with live music, beer/wine and munchies.

The artists are on hand in the studios to talk about (and sell) their work. No middle-men, just Art from the Artists.

Glass is one of my favorite mediums. I love the physicality and play of light. Glenda Kronke's sea-inspired glasswork took my mind to the reefs. She shares space with Flo Ulrich, whose fused glass pieces reminded me of earth and sky. Fellow artist Morgan Graff blew ethereal globes and spires and offers glass-blowing classes.

East By SouthEast Studios,1406-B Smith Rd. Austin, TX 78721(512) 600-0103. See Facebook page or www.gkronkestudios.com

Bits of newsprint flowed up the trees in Judy Paul's mixed medium painting.

Judy Paul at Big Medium, 5305 Bolm Road, Austin, TX 78721, 512-507-8199, www.judypaul.com

Former wine bottles gained new life as cut and etched vase/decanter/candle holders.

Imagination isn't limited to formal settings.

For the garden, Fence Art...

For vegetarians, a living 'window treatment'. Both at Big Red Sun Design+Build+Nursery.

And for laughs, a teeter-totter with grandma.

I only had a couple of hours to tour. Next year I'll put aside a weekend. See you there?

Truth

2011-11-28T06:00:00.000-06:00

I haven't written about the Austin older-middle-aged-men's group in ages as their cafe conversation has been mired in sports talk and local politics. But you never know what life has in store so I haven't given up.

Lately I've been taking a book to the cafe with me, opening my ears at the end of each page to see if the guys are going anywhere.

I'm reading Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, an exploration and love letter to Utah's high desert. Denny and I spent our honeymoon in a Utah fantasy region of rock, wind and time. I love the earth's sculpture.

Life stretching from a slot canyon in Bryce Canyon National Park. ---->

I chose Abbey's book because the writing is beautiful, like High Street Chocolate--smooth and sumptuous and so rich I can only eat a few bites at a time.

And I've been wondering if our Hill Country home is evolving to desert, although I'm more hopeful today with another 1 3/4" of rain last week. That makes a total of 12.2" in the last 13 months, still squarely within the average rainfall of the west Texas Chihuahua Desert...but I can see tiny wildflower plants poking through the crust in my front swale. With one more good rain in December/January, spring could bloom.

Last week, finally, I heard promise from the older-middle-aged-men when the subject turned to T-shirt sayings. The lawyer said, "Well I only wear shirts that say what I really think."

The group chuckled, knowing the lawyer's thoughts are as unpredictable as rain here.

"I wear this one when UT loses a football game: 'I'm only wearing black until I find something darker.'"

Smiles and an 'Amen'.

"And I wore 'Future Dead Person' to the office about three weeks after I'd been diagnosed with cancer."

Silence. Followed by grins. It must have been a while back. The t-shirt is still true, but he's here today.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Happiness is Contagious

2011-11-23T09:06:00.001-06:00

Four generations are reason to celebrate.

Wishing you and yours a happy holiday,
Kathleen

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Dinner Music

2011-11-20T16:00:00.001-06:00

I love small-town Texas. There's a relaxation to living at a slower pace.

One of my regular pleasures is going to the feed store. Before you ask, yes, every Texas burg large enough to be called a town has a feed store--along with a Main Street and the Dairy Queen.

I'm a little slow about my feed store errands. It's hard to hurry past the open-topped glass cases just inside the entrance, where ferrets and bunnies hang out until families take them home.

Yesterday four ferrets nuzzled my hand before commencing a race up my arm, provoking a vision of a squeaky squabble on top of my head. I thought for a moment they were going to make it, but I managed to extricate my arm ferret-less from the box.

Beyond the bunnies are small birds. My current favorites are a pair of exotic green, red and blue parakeets who seem to think Beethovan's Ninth Symphony is good dinner music. I know this because I whistle a bit of the Ninth to them every time we go in.

Beethoven's Ninth is the music that runs in the background of my mind, rolling into my consciousness when I'm not paying attention to anything else. It's been there since January 2003, when I had a stressful time and needed calming. The Ninth entered my sleep one night and I woke feeling so refreshed that the music made itself to home.

So of course that's what I whistle to the birds. One of them does a little bob-dancing at first but they generally end up at the feed tray, crunching to the tune.

And I finish my errands with a smile on my face.

I thought you might like a smile too, so here's 50 seconds from one of my parrot concerts.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Hill Country Fall

2011-11-02T16:54:00.000-05:00

In the Hill Country, we don't call this season Autumn. We call it Fall...because the leaves just turn brown and fall off.

But we mark the season in other ways.

The arrival of the first chipping sparrow, early for the rave. By February's Great American Bird Count , we'll see hundreds from the kitchen window.

And it's don't-walk-outside-at night time, AKA rutting season. Deer are running the roads and woods around our house, doe in the lead, buck panting after her.

A doe would probably shy away if she saw you in time. But a buck in mating has just one thing in mind. A person who ended up between him and satisfaction might be in for a fight, and the odds aren't in two-legged favor.

Hope you're enjoying the change of seasons, however you mark them.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

October Color

2011-10-27T22:11:00.000-05:00

I love October. The relief of escaping summer without dessication. In October we take our first breaths since May. It's a good time to be alive.

Enjoying early October story research.-------->

October used to be an orange and black month, now it's pink. Everywhere. On everything. Pink isn't my favorite color but I love it in October.

In September 1996 I walked into a bookstore looking for a book on breast cancer and treatment. The woman at the front desk asked if she could help me.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Finally, "Could you direct me to the (long pause) women's illness section?"

I couldn't say the words 'breast cancer'. Maybe I could have, if the request had been for someone else, if I hadn't been the one with a hard lump in my breast.

Pink wasn't a big deal in those days. Yes there were fund-raising walks in a few cities. And pink ribbons in the chemo ward. But outside of cancer sisters and their families, the disease and the women it had invaded were invisible.

Today, pink is everywhere and no one is ashamed to admit she has breast cancer. Breast cancer deaths have declined. It's not a coincidence.

Fifteen years later, I love pink in October.

Two weeks after the surgery, Denny and I married on the dock behind our home. He nurtured me during that hard year, and still does.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Cedar Fever Potion

2011-10-18T14:11:00.000-05:00

Denny and I took our annual dose of Cedar Fever Potion last night. Woke up this morning feeling good.

When my friends first hear about the potion, they wonder. Watch me from the corners of their eyes to see if I'm more than normally irrational.

Leaves and berry of Ashe Juniper, (Juniperus ashei) AKA Damn Cedar --->

But once friends experience a bout of Cedar Fever, the mid-December to late-March malady that slams Texas Hill Country residents, they want to know about the Potion.

If you live in the Hill Country, you can't get away from the Fever. It's a reaction to the annual mating ritual of the Ashe Juniper trees that cover our hills. From December through March, male trees explode pollen--trees releasing here and there, not all at once. No, the other males nearby hold off, firing days, weeks or months later. It's a coordinated plot for a fourth-month yellow mist of misery.

Ashe Juniper thicket behind our home. Yes, we could cut it down to clear the air-space. But I believe every yard needs a sanctuary. Small birds shelter in the thicket when hawks fly overhead or bad weather blasts. And others, like our seasonal black-chin hummingbirds and year-round cardinals, nest there.

A continuous rain of pollen may be good for the female trees, but humans burn and shiver, sinuses swell until heads explode, and folks think about dying as a form of relief. I only know this from personal, pre-potion experience.

You might be wondering about the potion. It's a folk remedy passed on by David Will, noted horticulturalist, who knows nearly everything about native plants of this region. He's not a doctor but I couldn't find any reference saying a dilute solution would harm us.

We're not doctors either but after four years of potion, we're not dead, for whatever that's worth.

So if you want to check it out for yourself, the recipe is here: Cedar Fever Cure, but you're on your own with risk and all that.

The Fever is a drawback to living in the Hill Country but other places have hurricanes, blizzards, tornadoes, mudslides and earthquakes. I'll take the quirky beauty of the Texas Hill Country.

And the potion.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

We Were Here

2011-10-13T17:47:00.000-05:00

Traveling is like getting a new pair of sunglasses. Different color, different view.

I've been out of town three of the last four weeks. As I sort pictures and memories now, I'm happy to share the fun.

Asheville, North Carolina is known as the Austin of the East. Truly, even to local Carolinians. Quirky, musical, artistic and beer-loving. Not to mention beautiful.

Denny and I stayed at the historic Grove Park Inn on a hill north of downtown Asheville.

Built in 1912 by hand from boulders (not stones, boulders) quarried at nearby Sunset Mountain.

When I walked into the soaring big-timbered lobby, it felt like entering a Harry Potter mountain lodge. The cage-fronted elevator, hand operated by a cheerful staffer, opens from a side door into a massive stone fireplace...the closest we'll ever get to travel by flue. Grove Park Inn elevator entrance--->

Our room was near F. Scott Fitzgerald's favorite room, which he chose for the view of arriving coaches from which he could spec potential feminine companionship. Zelda was resident in Asheville's Highland Mental Hospital at the time.

View toward Asheville and the Blue Ridge Mountains, on the opposite side of the Inn from Mr. Fitzgerald's favorite view.

If you ever visit Asheville, take the Grove Park Inn's historical tour, followed by lunch on Sunset Terrace for the view above. Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone With the Wind, spent her honeymoon at the Grove Park. There are stories of presidential visits past and present. And you'll want to hear about the The Pink Lady, resident ghost of room 545. She's said to be flirtatious and to show up in photographs. No, I didn't try.

Then stop in at the two galleries on the property, Gallery of the Mountains inside the hotel and Grovewood Gallery next door. I plan to buy everything in the galleries when I win the lottery. But especially the gorgeous and original woven bead jewelry of Amolia Willowsong. (Gallery of the Mountains)

<---Willowsong's Southern Skies necklace, photo by Cheryl Lincoln.

And a couple of these hand-carved hardwood rockers by retired surgeon Joe Godfrey (Grovewood Gallery). Carved to comfort your spine, I'm pretty sure the rocking does the same for the soul.

Speaking of comforting, downtown's Tupelo Honey Cafe offers the world's best way to break the fast. Yes, I said WORLD'S best (world being even bigger than Texas).

If you plan to go on a weekend, take yourself early or expect to wait because there's a big congregation of believers in the Cafe's Sweet Potato Pancake. Fluffy but substantial buttermilk batter underwritten by sweet orange goodness with just enough spice then jazzed by Grandma's Maple Granola inside. Cooked up, then topped by a dollop of whipped peach-butter surrounded by a generous handful of spiced pecans, it's the definition of righteousness. Add a light drizzle of orange-blossom-scented Tupelo Honey and you've got heaven.

Plan on taking half of it home with you--you'll be able to keep your jeans buttoned and it's just as good the next day.

Afterward you'll want a little walk to enjoy the mountain air.

And the sights. If you're lucky, the Flying Nun will bless you as he makes his rounds.

Mexican Buckeye (Ungnadia speciosa)

2011-10-01T10:48:00.000-05:00

I've been doing a Plant of the Month handout for our local garden club for more than a year but just realized I could have been sharing these great plants with my blog-friends too, as most of the featured plants will grow in a range of zones.

And I'll admit to liking the idea of spreading the Hill Country around. With a few plants, a substantial margarita and a sunset, you can feel the Hill Country magic too.

So look for more POMs in occasional posts. My emphasis is on water-wise perennials providing some form of habitat for birds, butterflies, bees or wildlife.

I have a special fondness for Mexican Buckeyes--they were the first trees I planted in our Hill Country yard. Planted before I knew we'd have years with almost no rain, in the back woodland where I wouldn't be watering. After five years my little 18" trees have grown to five feet with next-to-no care. You've got to love survivors.

Mexican Buckeye is a small tree for shady spaces,the kind you plant when you don’t want a lot of maintenance but you’d like springblooms and fragrance.

Despite the name, the tree is native to Texasand New Mexico, common in rocky canyons and on slopes and ridges in South, Central, and West Texas. As you’d guess fromthe habitat, it's drought-tolerant (once established) and acclimated to Hill Country climate cycles. Hardy in zones 7a-9b.

Height is normally 8-12 feetbut may reach 30 feet in optimum conditions. Requires well-draining alkaline soil but isn't picky about soil type--will live in rocky areas, sand, loam, clay andcaliche. To plant in clay, site on aslope for drainage.

Mexicanbuckeye does best in part-shade but will survive sun with regular watering. The leaves fall in autumn but return inspring along with fragrant pink blossoms, more blooms in years with rain.

Modest deer resistance, fencing is suggested until the tree istall enough for the canopy to be above browsing reach.

Parents and pet-owners please note, Mexican buckeye seeds are attractive to little ones but poisonous to eat. The dark 'beads' in this appealing necklace are Mexican Buckeye seeds, the red are Texas Mountain Laurel, both poisonous to eat (but OK to wear). For more cool natural jewelry, check out Austin jewelry designer Kathy Sahagian's website.

There and Back

2011-09-28T12:13:00.000-05:00

Max & Ernest rest from bird-watching out the window.

We're home after ten days in North Carolina and Virginia.

I was excited about the trip and afraid to go. From the preparations, you'd have thought we were leaving for the moon.

Two days before we left, I opened a safe deposit box at a bank only a block from the fire station. Hunted down all the important papers of the last five years and personal history from forever, plus sentimental jewelry and photographs. Took second-most-important papers and back-up hard drives for our computers the next day.

We moved burnables away from the house--patio furniture into the living room, propane tank behind a stone wall.

Denny cut back the foundation plantings so nothing touched the house. I heavy-watered the beds, thankful for the hot hours spent earlier this summer installing drip and soaker.

The part that made my heart thump was setting up the cat carriers on the dining room table so our next door neighbors could be out the door with our cat family in less than five minutes.

You think I'm afraid of wildfire?

Aerial view of Bastrop fire destruction, by William Luther for the San Antonio Express-News.

The week we left, fires burned in San Antonio and Austin. The Bastrop fire, burning since Labor Day weekend about an hour's drive from here, is 98% contained today, after burning about 55 square miles including more than 1,600 homes, killing two people and who knows how many farm animals and wildlife. And pretty much all of the country's westernmost loblolly pine forest in (formerly) beautiful Bastrop State Park.

We came home after 10 dampish, rainy days in a land of big-leaf trees like green towers cloaking mountain and roadside. Living glory.

View from our hotel toward Asheville, NC and Blue Ridge Mountains.

The cats are satisfied to have live-in servants again. The orioles and most hummingbirds have flown on. While we were gone, deer began eating my potted porch plants.

We have a home, we're good.

Cycles

2011-09-16T22:10:00.002-05:00

We put out feeders and plant flowers for hummingbirds. They come.

Female Black-chinned hummingbird on Firebush (Hamelia patens).

Female Black-chinned rests between sips.

This year the hottest summer in Texas history stressed every living thing.

Throughout the Hill Country, the only reliable flowers were those in home gardens where water still flowed.

Honeybees, deprived of nectar, and desperate for energy and moisture to cool their hives, thronged our hummingbird feeders and found small sips around the edges of the yellow bee guards.

The hummingbirds adapted, thrusting beaks between bees and guards to feed.

Until waves of migrating orioles dropped in hungry. After they'd eaten the ripe beauty berries behind our house, they pulled bee guards off feeders to sip sugar-water.

Young Baltimore Oriole male. See the bees on the guardless port to the left? And those waiting for him to leave.

The hummingbirds, wary of big pointed beaks, worked harder now for a drink, circling feeders, dodging bees, squeaking for a turn at the energy to power their hundreds-of-miles-flight yet to come.

But guardless ports spilled pools of nectar and swarms of bees piled the feeders, some ascending through ports into the syrup, forcing me into rescue duty for drunken swimmers, followed by search-duty for bee guards tossed from impatient beaks.

Repeat.

In late afternoon, Summer Tanagers took possession atop the feeders for easy snatches of errant bees, a tanager's favorite food.

The orioles AND the hummingbirds waited for turns at the feeders.

Soon, the birds will continue south. This notch on the cycle will move out of sight, the passing of time more a passage of being.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

An Oriole Irruption

2011-09-10T06:00:00.000-05:00

Irruption--an irregular migration of a large number of birds to areas where they aren’t typically found, usually motivated by the search for food.

A young male Baltimore Oriole pauses before plucking out the bee-guard so he can sip with ease. Later the bees will make use of his effort.

We've been having spring weather -- that would be high temps in the 90's instead of 110F -- and I'm filling the hummer feeders all the way up now that the food doesn't ferment by 3:00pm. Good thing, since we've had some unexpected visitors.

Over the Labor Day weekend I started seeing birds in the American Beautyberry bushes (Callicarpa americana) by the bedroom window. Small greeny-yellow birds with wingbars. Warblers?

But the beak was the wrong shape. Warblers have thin little beaks for eating bugs, not berries.

Female Orchard Oriole, the smallest member of the North American oriole family.

Then we started seeing orioles from all the windows...

Male Baltimore Oriole eating seeds of Big Red Sage (Salvia penstemonoides).

Female Baltimore Oriole in blooming Firebush (Hamelia patens).

Young male Baltimore Oriole protecting 'his' hummingbird feeder.

Male Baltimore oriole snacking on ripe purple berries in the American Beautyberry bushes (Callicarpa americana).

Most of the orioles have moved on now, which is probably just fine with the dozens of migrating hummingbirds that have shown up in the past two days.

The orioles were the first we've seen in our five years here and there were more than just a stray or two. I'm guessing they're part of an irruption from the historical migration pattern.

Did the scorched-earth drought make them hug the Hill Country rivers on their southbound journey? Perhaps columns of smoke sent them our way.

We'll never know. But I do know this, I'm glad we had berries, feeders and water on offer. The flash of sunset feathers in the foliage is like seeing hope. And we can all use more of that.

In the Veins

2011-09-06T13:55:00.000-05:00

The University of Texas sports the proudest student and alumni cadre in the state. Just ask any burnt-orange afficianado. Other Texans bleed other colors, most notably maroon. Nothing wrong with that.

But love 'em or hate 'em, no one stands out in a crowd at the Chicago airport like the boot-wearing businessmen in UT-burnt-orange ties. When you look around the waiting area and see that proud ugly color, you know you're headed home.

Like the pope's belief in god, burnt-orange permeates the UT fabric, connecting the faithful to an understanding rising silent through Texas' parched earth and history, the certainty that Texas and Texans own the summit, indeed are the summit.

As example, note this--every year dewy-cheeked brides walk down the aisle on 'the most important day of my life' behind a bevy of bridesmaids gowned in University of Texas burnt orange, a color that turns most women's complexions seasick green.

And the happy couple ride away from the reception in a burnt-orange sportscar. Really. You wouldn't BELIEVE the number of burnt-orange cars in Austin. And you know no one buys a burnt-orange car unless it's marked half-price. Except true T'sips. They'll pay extra.

Hook 'em Horns.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Looking for the Magic

2011-08-31T16:06:00.000-05:00

Eighteen months ago I fell into freelancing travel articles for the San Antonio Express-News. Go, see, write. Payday for doing what you love.

Since then, Denny and I have gone high and low in Texas and beyond. What facets of nature, time, beauty or culture saturate trips with meaning? That's what I look for, what I write. Including, of course, the 'how-to' details, so readers can find the magic too.

Recently I gathered the SA Express-News article links into a Ticket, to make the resources easy to find.

Have you ever wanted to sip wine with a view of grazing buffalo? Stand on the precipice that inspired Georgia O'Keeffe to paint her unique vision? Spend a lazy weekend sleeping late, passing died-and-gone-to-heaven food through your lips and wandering through art galleries? All this and more is in those articles.

Take a look, you might find a place to make your own magic.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Hatch Chili Time

2011-08-30T06:00:00.007-05:00

Everyone knows the national seasons, even if the spring-summer-fall-winter quartet vary in local length or intensity (I'm thinking about Maine's eight-month winter and Phoenix's summer days of 117F, which pull summer days into forever.)

But Hill Country residents are gifted with more.

Like Hatch Chili Season, the last two weeks of August at HEB, the national grocery store of Texas. A season with a smoky tang to the air and a tingle to the tongue.

Hatch, New Mexico chilis (long green pod-type chilis, distant descendents of Anaheim peppers but more transcendent), fresh from Hatch valley farms, roasted in front of HEBs and upscale cousin Central Markets all around Texas.

My long-time friends might remember my virgin Hatch experience. Since then I've learned a few things. Among them that akin to sex, Hatch chili-ation just gets better as we gain experience.

Which is a good thing, since there are 7+ pounds of roasted Hatch chilis in our freezer...

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Farmer's Market Morning 8-27-11

2011-08-28T13:01:00.000-05:00

Mushrooms from Kitchen Pride Mushroom Farms in Gonzales (about 50 miles southeast of New Braunfels), fresh-picked for the Saturday farmer's market. I'm partial to the meaty texture and savory notes of the criminis, AKA baby bellas. They add a layer of depth to anything, like wine-steamed mussels.

And I love New Braunfels Farmer's Market . Food and products grown or made by real people, not corporate mega-farms. And driven the less-than-100-miles to market in a personal pickup truck that also carries the kids to school and grandma to the beauty parlor. By people who care enough about their land, their crops and their customers to practice sustainable farming, growing produce without pesticides and animals without hormones or antibiotics.

Hope you can find local produce in your town, and enjoy putting it on your table.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Hill Country Drought

2011-08-22T23:23:00.002-05:00

Pretty soon water will be more valuable than oil in Texas.

If you squint, you can see Denny and me in the middle of the exceptional-drought-brown heart of Texas. Over the last ten months, the damp in our rain gauge totaled 7+6/10". Or, to put it in Texas terms, 2/3 of a beer bottle. Ten months. That's a twisted teetotal.

And as of yesterday, we'd had 67 days at 100F or more this year. Rivers are drying. Crops are wasted and ranchers are selling livestock because feed is expensive and hard to come by.

Forecasters say more of the same for the fall as La Niña continues to develop in the Pacific. According to NOAA, La Niña often correlates with drier than normal conditions in the Southwest, late summer through the subsequent winter. A typical La Niña lasts 9-12 months, some episodes as long as two years.

My livelihood doesn't depend on rainfall but my heart does. We garden for wildlife. Our bird list for this property is more than 90 species now, including an endangered golden-cheeked warbler who occasionally shops and bathes in our backyard.

We don't water the established trees, back thicket, open woodlands, native grasses and wild-flower swath. Those areas will make it or not on their own, although I have doubts about the wild-flower area, where deer hooves leave dusty pockets of scarred earth through the stubble. At least the thicket and woodlands have thick blankets of needles and leaves.

Last spring we replaced ground covers with mulch to conserve water. Our modest lawn is buffalo grass, a native which can get by on 18" of rain a year. We've watered it but not much.

Which leaves 30 or so youngish trees and the gardens surrounding the house, wildlife habitat. Oasis for hummingbirds and goldfinches in this bare-dirt summer. With water and food stations, we host golden-fronted woodpeckers, western scrubjay families, house finches, roadrunner, and dozens of cardinals, chickadees and blackcrested titmice.
View from back porch, see the hummingbird in the upper right corner?

The plants are drought-tolerant. But only a few would live in the desert. So we sprinkle the densely planted areas (when watering restrictions allow), run soaker-hoses and drip irrigation in cooler hours...

And do mother-of-invention kitty-litter bucketing. Three tiny holes let 3.5 gallons/bucket drip into the earth in an hour. Refill 4-6 times, depending on size of tree and number of buckets. Deep watering, only when the trees say they need it.

As I fill the buckets, I tell my trees their roots are stretching. They'll be stronger and the next La Niña will be easier. I hope.

Moo Much Fun

2011-08-12T20:34:00.002-05:00

We think we'll get up in the morning and today will be yesterday, just one day later.

We drink a morning drink, do our a.m. routines, go wherever we go, thinking our everyday thoughts.

Until a jolt shakes the rut and our primal minds respond. Some days anger, some days wonder.

August first was my day for unexpected smiles. And today is yours, courtesy of Austin's Cow Parade. Doing good and having fun too.

A Moo-sical Moo-saic, by Allison Gregory.

Moo-sy in the Sky With Diamonds, by Allison Gregory.

Cowjunto Music, by Elizabeth C. Sullivan.

Batsy at Twilight by Linda Figg.

Moo-vement, by Angie Gahler.

Moo-saic, by Amy Oettle & The Bazaarvoice Team.

I Love Moo, by Angi Gahler.

Me too.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Mexican Oregano (Poliomintha maderensis)

2011-08-03T10:12:00.007-05:00

So long ago I don't remember (i.e. sometime before last week), I planned to post hummingbird plant profiles, thinking I'd put out one every couple of weeks. I might have posted three...with this one, four.

Mexican oregano is a two-fer, flowers for pollinators and leaves for cooks. Not a true oregano but used like one because of the flavor. Minty, a fresher flavor and more gentle than Italian Oregano, a great addition to salads or as a last-minute addition to soups and sauces.

I'll confess that if a hummingbird finds salvia or firebush in the garden, Mexican Oregano will be visited second. But these low bushes offer flowers in hot times and provide nectar for butterflies and sphinx moths as well as hummingbirds.

They bring wintertime cheer with evergreen foliage. And for about six warm-season months sport tubular purple blooms.

<---Giant swallowtail butterfly on Mexican Oregano.

Drought tolerant and deer don't eat it. I'm a little afraid to say that about the deer, this year the animals are eating plants on every 'don't eat' list, but my Mexican Oregano plants have been free from predation so far.

The plants grow into small bushes 2-3 feet high, suggested spacing is 18-24 inches. The branches arch and sprawl but break easily. I have them next to paths...and think of the breakage as a self-pruning mechanism. Otherwise they benefit from a light spring pruning.

Above, our back porch view, Mexican oregano mixed with purple lantana and white salvia greggii in foreground, red blooms of firebush (hamelia patens) across the dry creekbed.

Plant in well-draining soil in full sun to light shade. More Mexican oregano plants are killed by wet feet than drought.

Cold hardiness is graduated. According to a Texas A&M plant profile (here), "Mexican Oregano is an evergreen woody shrub in USDA zones 9b to 11, a dieback woody subshrub in 9a to 8b, and often root hardy in zones 8a(7b); it tends to be a more reliable woody plant in arid regions; hardiness in zones 8 and 7 can be suspect, particularly in more mesic climates."

My experience with cold hardiness in our zone 8 location has been good, including last winter's spell of 3-days-below-freezing when the plants made it through without losing leaves or suffering cold damage.

We've been flocked with hummingbirds this year--the desert-drought has reduced the Hill Country to baked clay. Our perennial flowers must look like an oasis to the birds. I'm grateful for drought-tolerant plants that nurture our wildlife and cheer our garden.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Died-and-Gone-to-Heaven Curry

2011-07-21T19:38:00.002-05:00

The sweet, rich, rising aroma and complex weave of warmth and depth, like a smell-taste tapestry, could lead a person to part ways with the world happy.

You might be wondering about the connection between the Texas Hill Country and curry. You're thinking curry originated on the other side of the world. You're right.

But in the way of human migration, food traditions travel and adapt. And since Texas is as much a state of mind as a place of being, any version of spice is eligible to be Texan. And I'm claiming this curry spice mix, even though the point of origin for the blend was Jamaica.

I started on this curry trail the first time a local goat farmer brought his free-range meat to the Farmer's Market. I love the Farmer's Market and the people who put their hearts and souls into raising food on this hard-scrabble land.

So then and there I bought a package of goat stew-meat and put it in the freezer. Freezer instead of stove because I hadn't a clue about cooking goat.

For the next three months, every time I opened the freezer door I saw goat. Along the way I learned that the meat was probably tough and would need long, slow, moist cooking. Preferably with spices to scent the house and whet the appetite. Voila, Jamaican Curried Goat. Except that I didn't have any Jamaican Curry Powder, which every recipe assured me was essential to the dish.

Eventually I found a recipe for Jamaican Curry Powder and the surprise was that it had NO heat. Monty, who posted it, says that hot pepper should be added separately to any dish. So this mix can be used by folks who have to avoid a burn.

I made the goat curry, it was spectacular, and yes it bubbled for 5 hours before those free-range sinews were tender, but the wait was worth it.

A couple of weeks later I used leftover curry powder in a chicken curry. Half an hour cooking time, but thank-you-lord good on the tongue.

So if you want a Caribbean Texas gone-to-heaven experience in your kitchen, here's the curry powder to carry you.

The recipe title is a link to the original recipe, which yields 3/4 cup. I cut it in half (the proportions listed here), which made enough for 3 dishes feeding 4-6 people each. Ground spices don't improve with age and the powder is easy to make so maybe less is more.

Jamaican Curry Powder

Prep Time 10 Min, Cook Time 10 Min, Ready In 20 Min

Yield 3/8 cup

Ingredients

2 tablespoons whole coriander seeds
1 tablespoon whole cumin seeds
1 tablespoon whole mustard seeds
1 tablespoon whole anise seeds (I used fennel seeds)
2 teaspoons whole fenugreek seeds
2 teaspoons whole allspice berries
2 1/2 tablespoons ground turmeric

Directions

**Combine the coriander seeds, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, anise (or fennel) seeds, fenugreek seeds, and allspice berries in a skillet. Toast over medium heat until the color of the spices slightly darkens, and the spices are very fragrant, about 10 minutes.
**Remove the spices from the skillet, and allow to cool to room temperature.
**Grind the spices with the turmeric in a spice grinder. Store in an airtight container at room temperature.

Here's the goat curry, from a recipe at Jamaica Travel & Culture.com, including step by step pictures and a video. I added a cut-up cauliflower late in the cooking but did NOT use TWO scotch bonnet peppers, which would likely have been a searing gustatory experience.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Small Town Fourth of July

2011-07-06T10:42:00.001-05:00

I bribed Denny to go to the New Braunfels Fourth of July parade with me. He feels (and rightfully so) that four years of parading at West Point exempt him from parades for the rest of eternity.

But I love parades. So I held out the Red Rooster carrot with a subsequent coffee-shop option and Elvis here we come.

Elvis guarding the plates at Red Rooster's breakfast buffet.--->

The parade was perfect Hill Country, except for the missing horses and fire trucks, it was true to the quirky nature of the place.

I stood behind the cutest citizen. I'm pretty sure that's why Uncle Sam threw extra beads. Yes, beads and candy. I don't know when this became a Declaration signing tradition, but I like it. No one threw panties like the ones I caught at a New Orleans Mardi Gras parade decorated with an oyster and the words 'Eat It Raw', but that was a different kind of celebration...

This seemed to be a year for decoration. Check this out--eagles, flags, soldiers and weapons plus slogans. I wondered if the owner designed it at happy hour. Maybe it's just his kinda bumper sticker.

Another enthusiastic patriot, with a sense of porpoise.

Rat Resurrection, "Saving One Rat At A Time"; note the giant stuffed rat in the passenger seat. Which political party do you think he belongs to?

The county Democrats had plenty of pep in their step but not many marchers.

The Republican Woman were led by men in a pickup truck.

The Tea Party turned out the most marchers, including babies and grandmas, proselytizing all the way.
<--Note brochures in hand. The sweet little old lady next to me was too polite to refuse and ended up with five, bless her heart.

Families and dogs were crowd favorites.

And tractors, of course.

Wherever you are, whatever you did to celebrate our individual freedoms, I hope your day was good.

Unexpected Neighbors

2011-07-01T18:01:00.004-05:00

Female gray fox, evening rock-cleaner of left-over birdseed (and on this day, when she was hungry enough to stay while I came out with it, dogfood), photo taken 6-30-11.

Five years ago, Denny and I bought a Hill Country house a ways from town, where the ambient noise is the call of birds, and the night sky is so dark the Milky Way glows a path.

A nice family lives next-door and a number of other neighbors have introduced themselves...fox, raccoon, skunk and deer among them.

Then late last year as we were driving a lane to the farm-to-market road to town, I noticed a sign on a fence. Cryptic, the letters TXI and a phone number.

We were surprised to learn that TXI is a cement producer and owns the property behind that sign and eastward for a number of miles. Property used not just for making cement but quarrying the rock that goes into it.

I knew that quarries mine rock by blasting. Boom, clouds of dust, falls of rock, sound and rebound and dirt.

Picture courtesy of TXI Industries.

Not the kind of neighbor I expected when we moved to the quiet of the Hill Country. We'd never heard TXI's blasting from our place but I was worried.

The plant manager came out to talk to our community. The first thing he said was that they wanted to be a good neighbor. I'm betting everyone in the room took that with a grain of salt. But over the next 40 minutes he laid out the schematic of their property, talked about their business and plans, answered our questions and said over and over that being a good neighbor is good business.

Then a few months later he invited us out to the plant to watch a blast. Thirty six of us took him up on it.

An engineer talked about safety precautions, the computer modeling that preceeds the blast, the parameters and calculations.

Each blast takes place in stages with multiple charges at delayed 1,000th of a second intervals, reducing vibration by creating canceling wave forms. Elegant idea. I wonder if political ideologues who shout at each other realize they're canceling each other out.

TXI takes some other practical measures--like not blasting on cloudy days, analogous to why a cough sounds loud in an auditorium. And they quarry on two levels to help direct noise and dust into the bowl.

They blast once a week, using the least amount necessary to do the job, creating vibrations they say are well below federal standards for structural damage to homes. Turns out they can break the rock with less force--costs less and there is less risk of damage.

We wore white hard hats and stood back from the edge of the crater. When the blast came, I was a little disappointed. A modest boom, less than some 4th of July fireworks or the jet afterburn from the fighter jets my father flew when I was growing up. A brief billow of orange dust hiding a fall of shattered rock next to the newly-exposed cliff face.

They have a plan for restoring the land after quarrying, by putting in topsoil and native plants. I don't know how well they'll do it or how long before it will look like land again. I hope in time it becomes habitat.

After the blast we all went back to the plant and ate enchiladas, like neighbors. The manager gave us all his e-mail address with an invitation to let him know if we have any questions or problems. TXI won't quarry near our community border for another 20 years, but it's good to know that this corporate neighbor believes good relationships are good business.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Dinosaur Time

2011-06-22T18:16:00.002-05:00

I believe stories are all around us. But sometimes in the tumult of my days I miss them...until I go to a place like Glen Rose, where stories emerge from the elements, of life and death and the fabric of the earth beneath our feet.

Denny and I stood at the edge of the Paluxy River, squinting into cool clear water. A light limestone shelf wandered in and out of the wet. Somewhere along that shelf, a 113 million year old minute was waiting for us.

Texas in the Cretaceous period, approximately 145-65 million years ago, was largely covered by a shallow sea. Covered and uncovered over millions of years, each immersion leaving behind calcareous layers. Over time the layers solidified into limestone and other forms of rock, each layer a depositional slab of time told in the language of skeleton and chemistry.

Dinosaurs were the largest Texans of those times, roaming the coastal marshes and savannas in search of food.

Acrocanthosaurus, illustration from Wikipedia Commons library.

Plant-eating dinosaurs lived on the abundant tropical vegetation. Carnivores consumed whatever they could catch, including other dinosaurs. And sometime 113 million years ago, a pack of Acrocanthosaurus, carnivores 20-30 feet long, chased a plant-eating Paluxysaurus jonesi through limey mud at sea's edge. The 20 ton prey was 60-70 feet long with feet that left tracks sometimes a yard wide.

But Paluxysaurus was likely slower, possibly without defense for a pack of sharp teeth and claws. The chase played out on shoreline mud, leaving voids of haste along the waterfront.

Experts say the tracks dried in the sun and were soon covered in another layer of limey mud, filling the tracks and preserving them. Layer on layer, a buried story.

In 1909 a nine-year old boy found giant bird-like three-toed tracks in a tributary of the Paluxy. The river's flow had worn down through rock until the dinosaur tracks were revealed.

Young park visitor standing in a Paluxysaurus track.

A visitor fits her foot into the fossilized cavity from the center claw in an Acrocanthosaurus track.

Many tracks remain underground...we don't yet know whether Paluxysaurus escaped.

Today's visitors to Site 1 in the park can see the flight in stone and other tracks. But wind, water and freeze continue resculpting rock and an ancient limestone minute won't last forever.

If you go: Dinosaur Valley State Park is a few miles outside of lovely Glen Rose, Texas, as sweet a little Texas town as you're likely to find, with a historic town square, unique lodging, good food, a fine western art museum and the Paluxy River running through it--plus the state park and proximity to Fossil Rim Wildlife Center.

The Park's roughly 1,525 acres include track sites, hiking trails, restrooms, picnic and camping areas. No food service on site. Call before going to see if high water covers the tracks. Open daily 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Day Use fees: adult (over 13) $5/day, children free. 1629 Park Road 59, Glen Rose. Information: 800-792-1112. Rates and reservations: 512-389-8900. Website

P.S. There are more stories in Dinosaur Valley, or you can go with loved ones and create your own.

Are We There Yet?

2011-06-19T17:35:00.003-05:00

It's been hot here in the Hill Country since early May, hitting triple digits since early June. Every living thing wants a rest...

See my resting companion?

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

The Rockin' K's Texas Hill Country Coconut Pie Tour

2011-06-07T15:02:00.001-05:00

^ From Bum Doodler's Cafe in Boerne.

Adventure starts when you leave the beaten path. Chef Kitty knows that, it's why she drove two days from southern Florida to join me in a quest for the best coconut pie in the Texas Hill Country.

<---Chef Kitty leaving the Blanco Bowling Alley, where the pie we tasted was still warm from the oven.

Three days, ~ 650 miles, 12 small Texas towns, 20+ pieces of pie and 3 new pounds on my scale.

Our rules were few: **Local places only. **Pies made from scratch. **Every piece photographed, described and rated on our 1-5 scale (5 being a perfect score, and yes, there were 5's). Remains were carted home in a cooler for later comparison. I know, what were we thinking? That twenty pieces of pie weren't enough and we'd want to taste them all again??? My refrigerator is still filled with little styrofoam boxes...

As with any journey, there were a few unexpected destinations. We got lost in Lampasas when the GPS sent us to the backside of a pasture instead of the Yumm Factory, an old-fashioned cash-only diner. Turned out Yumm is on a major road, not hard to find if you're using a map instead of GPS.

Our Yumm lunch of smoked-on-site brisket and home-made Green Chile Chicken Stew, yes we splurged on onion rings.

And in spite of our mission--coconut pie--we tasted every Buttermilk Pie we found, on the theory that a person might only pass that way once.

Silver K Cafe's Buttermilk Pie in Johnson City, made from our server's great-grandmother's recipe.

We also learned about segmentation of the coconut pie genre: meringue, cream and a much-loved variation closest to chess pie. Texans hold distinct opinions about which is best but Kitty and I are ecumenical, we rated them all on the 1-5 scale.

We deviated in Glen Rose for to-die-for German Chocolate Pie at Riverhouse Grill. It got a "5" on the scale, as did the nearby Pie Peddlers Very Berry Pie, with a pucker-up-honey-you'll-love-this sweet, tart, succulent filling of raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, strawberries and a bit of rhubarb wrapped in a tender flaky crust.

By the end, we'd tasted so many good pies we knew that folks all over the Texas Hill Country can find good pie not far from home.

But if I ever want to drive for coconut pie again, I'll point my headlights toward Fredericksburg Pie Company's creamy coconutty dream of a flaky-crusted tender-meringued Coconut Meringue Pie, a guaranteed 5+, and count myself lucky to live just a few hours away.

Coconut Meringue and Cream pies at Fredericksburg Pie Company.

Coconut Pie Quest

2011-06-01T23:28:00.002-05:00

Last night Chef Kitty and I kicked off the Quest, a search for the Best Coconut Pie in the Hill Country. We started with a toe-in-the-water taste at the Red Rooster in New Braunfels. And it was good, maybe even the best.

Elvis on stage at the Red Rooster ---->

But one pie is not a Quest so today we drove north, up and back, 337 miles, 12 pies in 5 towns. We found another best but it was German Chocolate so the Quest continues.

Tomorrow we take a more westerly loop, another dedicated drive and pie all-day effort. Wish us luck. And Pie. I'll share results with you when the sugar rush subsides.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

In the Jailhouse Now

2011-05-25T19:04:00.000-05:00

My longtime friends might remember stories from our last epic drought (2008-2009). Worse than the dust-bowl 1950's it was, in fact the worst drought on record here.

The last 7 months in the Hill Country have been drier. Until last week, we'd had 1 1/2 inches of rain for the period. Now the total is 3 inches. We're grateful for the recent 1 1/2 inches, even though it wasn't enough to close the cracks in the clay.

On the USDA's color-coded Drought map, here, we're shown in dark brown, called Exceptional Drought. A third or more of Texas is. The rest of the state is in the lesser categories from Abnormally Dry - Extreme Drought.

I see the hardship in the hummingbirds flocking to our feeders and flowers. Few wildflowers this year, so home gardens and feeders are lifesavers. We're making a quart of food a day, sometimes more, and my sugar water total is way ahead of this time in prior years.

And the deer...I see deer like shadows in the thicket behind the house, reaching for pungency previously spurned, junipers and persimmons harsh in the second chewing.

We fenced our front porch plantings, after the Dwarf Barbados Cherry (that deer don't eat), was chewed every night.

Okay, you can laugh. I tried bamboo stakes before we put up the really ugly fence.

Now the pineapple sage outside the fence--they don't eat it, really!--is chewed to nubs and flower spikes sheered off Gregg's Blue Mist, magnet to Queen butterflies.

Turk's cap, the aromatic, slightly prickly butterfly, sphinx moth and hummingbird favorite, eaten to the ground. This picture is from last year.

We have new investments these days--mesh fencing and chicken wire. My front porch plantings look like they're in jail.

Please--dance, sing, pray, whatever you do and believe, for rain.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

He Knows How to Beat the Heat

2011-05-13T17:45:00.000-05:00

There's nothing like a cool one on a hot day...

Painted bunting (male), dipping a toe in the waterfall--->

Always room for a friend.
Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Bamburger's Selah Ranch

2011-05-05T11:02:00.005-05:00

<----Memorial stone near entrance to Selah Ranch:
In Memory of Man 2,000,000 B.C. - A.D. 20_?_.

Forty-two years ago, J. David Bamburger bought 3,000 acres of Blanco County land,
barren, grazed-out, good-for-nothing land without live water. It was   "the most degraded land in the Hill Country".

Today springs flow, cattle and goats graze in wild grassland pastures, and the ranch is home to endangered animals, birds and plants.

Selah is a 501c3 corporation dedicated to teaching the principles of sound land management and preservation of species. The ranch is open to the public in a limited way through reserved group tours. Denny and I lucked into a tour last month, best $15 I've spent in a long time.

It's easy to see degraded land in the Hill Country. Our soil is thin, ranchers haven't always known the danger of overgrazing, wildfires are suppressed, and recovery takes hard work.

Seeing land restored is a walk back in time and an exercise in hope.

Bamburger practiced a few simple principles--revolutionary at the time, accepted practice now.
Note the two juniper-covered hills (left and center) in the photo above. Then note the hill to the right with grasslands interspersed.

First Bamburger cleared most of the Ashe juniper (known here as 'cedar' or more commonly, 'damn cedar'). Ashe juniper is native to Hill Country canyons, historically kept in place by wildfires that swept the rolling grasslands.

But with settlement and suppression of fire, cedars blanketed the Hill Country, smothering grasslands. Less water nourished the soil and percolated to the underground aquifer. Springs dried up.

Demonstration of the difference in groundwater and runoff between grasslands and cedars--->

As a side-note, Bamburger left some old stands of Ashe Junipers, in homage to the endangered Golden-cheeked warbler, which uses pliable strands of bark in nesting. We got a good view of a male Golden-cheeked singing for a mate as we stood in one of the stands.

With much of the cedar gone, prairie grasses and wildflowers re-emerged. And two years later, springs bubbled.

The tour includes a canyon where Bamburger planted a variety of native trees, including endangered Texas Snowbells (Styrax platanifolius ssp. texanus) propagated for replanting in their native regions. And the almost-as-rare Sycamore Leaf Snowbell, (Styrax platanifolius Engelm. ex Torr.) native to Blanco County. I have the names of two nurseries carrying this one...and foresee snowbells in our future.

The woodland walk was also thick with Escarpment Black Cherry (Prunus serotina var. eximia). My little trees would have felt right at home.

There are ponds created by small dams of spring-fed creeks. Classes of fourth-graders from inner-city Texas schools come stay at the ranch in summer and swim in the ponds. Some of those children have never seen water that wasn't enclosed in cement.

Selah is a working ranch, with cattle and goats that mow the grass, provide natural fertilizer and bring in money to pay the bills.

The herds of Scimitar-horned Oryx are there for survival. This species has not been seen in the wild for over 20 years, and it is believed that none have survived in their African home range. Bamburger Ranch hosts 29 pure bloodlines and may be the last hope of the animal's future.

David Bamburger is 82, still working, planning and planting. A man with a vision, who has made the world better. Selah Ranch is proof of what just one man can do.

For more about Selah Ranch, find Jeffrey Greene's book, Water from Stone: The Story of Selah, Bamberger Ranch Preserve.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Black Bean & Corn Confetti Salad

2011-04-28T06:11:00.000-05:00

Denny and I went to a gardeners' pot-luck picnic a few weeks ago. Most picnics here involve BBQ, the national dish of Texas. My contribution was this salad, because beans and corn are natural sides for BBQ. Plus it's tangy, crunchy and colorful. And yes, prep is easy and fast. A side benefit is that it doesn't go bad sitting out on the table if the pre-dinner announcements go on and on, as sometimes happens when folks get to talk in front of a captive group.

Our picnic was nice. Beautiful gardens, good weather, nice people.

And toward the end of the afternoon, in true Hill Country fashion, an unexpected guest.

Barn owl, stopping by to check things out.----->

Prepare the confetti salad a few hours ahead of time to let the flavors penetrate. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Serves about 16 as a side dish.

Ingredients
3 cans no-salt black beans, rinsed
4 cups frozen corn, thawed, microwaved 2 minutes & drained
1 large red bell pepper, finely chopped
1/2 large red onion, finely chopped
1 bunch cilantro, washed & chopped

Put all ingredients together in a large bowl.

Dressing:
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp coarse brown mustard
2 minced jalapenos (with seeds)
4 small-med cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup cider vinegar
enough olive oil to stick it together without becoming thick (I know, that's not an exact measurement, but I have faith in you.)

In a small bowl, whisk the dressing until well combined. Adjust salt to your liking. The dressing should taste tangy and garlicky with a pepper bite. You need intensity to balance the sweetness and starch in the beans and corn.

Sprinkle over the salad and toss well.

Enjoy, and hope for the unexpected.
Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Instinct and Survival

2011-04-25T12:33:00.001-05:00

Every day is different in the Hill Country.

I think I know the patterns and seasons for our land...but this year is never last year.

Black-chinned hummingbirds breed in the Texas Hill Country. The first one returns to our place in mid-March. He probably spent his winter in south Texas.

Black-chinned immature male on Texas Betony. Note longer beak in proportion to head, one of the identifying characteristics. ------>

Ruby-throated hummingbirds, on the other hand, commute from Mexico and stop only to refresh. They wash up in my waterfall and nectar at my Texas Betony and feeders before resuming spring flight to northern breeding grounds.

This year one male ruby-throated is taking an extended vacation here. I know because he's taken to sitting atop the feeder, and no one else does that.

I'm wondering how he knows it's been a late and cold spring up north, which means fewer gnats and flowers now. Or whether he's heard about the Texas wildfires, including today's four major fires covering more than half a million acres. More acreage has been scorched this year in Texas than exists in the entire land mass of Rhode Island.

It's a mystery, the instinct of penny-weight birds. And survival, for all of us.
Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Play Me I'm Yours

2011-04-17T12:13:00.001-05:00

Seen on the Pfluger ped & biking bridge over Lady Bird Lake in Austin.

Public art, Austin style, courtesy of Art Alliance Austin. 30 or so pianos placed around the city for anyone to play and hear. I found four along the walking path at Lady Bird Lake. Ragtime, boogie woogie and Tchaikovsky a short walk apart.

Go soon, the show ends April 30th.

Only a Little Plant Crazy

2011-04-12T11:43:00.000-05:00

Last Friday was the first day of the Lady Bird Wildflower Center's spring plant sale, the Members Only Day. Every native-plant gardener for 250 miles took off work and drove to Austin, parking pickup trucks a mile down the access road.

Those of us who were only 45 minutes early found unofficial parking spots before joining the line at the gate. My friend Cathy and I took her yellow wagon. If you don't take a wagon, how will you carry all the trees you don't have spots for but can't live without?

And you NEED more trees in heavy 5-gallon pots, even though your land is six months into the next big drought and you promised yourself after the last epic drought you wouldn't plant any more trees you'd have to nurse through another Great Dessication.

Friday, I NEEDED another Escarpment Black Cherry, a tree rare and growing rarer in its native Hill Country range. To have an Escarpment Black Cherry is to believe in hope. Two is heaven.

<--Escarpment black cherry # 1, planted last year.

And two Apache Plume trees (Fallugia paradoxa), to make up for the one I killed last year. I'll plant these Apache Plumes (more like oversized bushes than trees) in areas with fewer rocks & more dirt, where they'll get a little afternoon shade, and I'll water more this year, drought or no, even if it's the 5-gallon bucket with holes in the bottom method. These trees will live, the birds will love the shelter and I'll love seven months of pink feathery plumes every year.

I NEEDED 11 more perennial wildflower plants (plus 3 annuals--but they reseed) for which I have no beds. Plus SIX seed packets (5 more than prepared beds).

Texas Yellow Star (Lindheimera texana), Lindheimer's Beebalm (Monarda lindheimeri), Pink Guara (Guara lindheimeri 'Pink')--do we see a theme here? As the botanist who first categorized many of our region's native plants, German immigrant Ferdinand Lindheimer is often called the Father of Texas Botany and the plants he discovered carry his name. I had only one species, the Lindheimer senna, so there was no choice, was there? Now I'm planting living history and later I'll share with friends.

New Braunfels mural celebrating Ferdinand Lindheimer and his contribution to the town.

More plants--perennial winecup, Mountain sage, Heart-leaf Skullcap, Prairie Flax, Hinckley's Columbine, Damianita, and Indigo Spires--another blue sage.

I planted all day Sunday, making beds as I went...and still have more to put in the ground. Now that my back's in working order again.

Hope you're good, and planting some history of your own this spring.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Tuscany in Texas

2011-03-31T06:00:00.026-05:00

In the Texas Hill Country, goats and grapes are grown on spare limestone hills. Artisans produce specialty items like hand-made cheese, boutique bread. And now Texas-grown olive oil.

I know, most folks think longhorns and beer when they think of Texas. And we do grow good beef and make good beer, but there's more to our land these days.

At Bella Vista Ranch in Wimberley, entrepreneur Jack Daugherty makes flavorful olive oil from the fruit of the 800 or so olive trees he planted on his rolling hills. At the Hill Top Cafe outside Fredericksburg, restaurateur Johnny Nicholas sells olive trees along with his made-with-love menu.

And at a growing number of Hill Country homes, folks are enjoying the flash of year-round silvery-green foliage and possibility of harvesting their own olives.

A few weeks ago I wrote a news article about olive trees in the home landscape. Now I'm thinking we need Mission olive trees, two for a greater chance of fruit.

Don't tell Denny, who doesn't love levering boulders from our limestone to make room for root-balls.

If you'd like a view of the Mediterranean in your yard too, click here for the article and more information.

Or visit our Texas Hill Country and see for yourself.

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.

Wherever You Find It

2011-03-29T10:59:00.001-05:00

I'll admit, I'm not a snob when it comes to bluebonnets. I'll take pictures anywhere--road medians, ditches...or the local HEB parking lot.

Who knew going to the grocery could be a beautiful experience?

Copyright 2009-2011 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.