Oleander Festival

The Bungalow has been booked nearly nonstop since the first week in March, so my stays on the island have been confined to a day and night or two between outgoing and incoming guests, mostly on weekdays. So, being here for a weekend of fun is a rare and wonderful opportunity for me to reconnect with my island friends and take part in some of Galveston’s special attractions.

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Betty Head Oleander Garden Park. 2020

Betty Head Oleander Garden Park. 2020

The International Oleander Festival was scheduled for today and, as a new member of the hosting organization, I definitely wanted to attend and support this annual event. The festival is the group’s primary fundraiser of the International Oleander Society (based right here in Galveston). Proceeds help maintain the Betty Head Oleander Garden Park, located at 2624 Sealy.

I arrived at the festival about 10 a.m., right after the gate of the park opened. I met my friend, Marlee, there and, together, we walked around, checked out the lovely potted oleanders for sale and the offerings of the food and merchandise vendors, and enjoyed listening to live musical performances.

Sadly, due to the Great Ice Storm in Texas in February, the park was not in its best condition. The once-beautiful oleander bushes had all been pruned down to near their roots to give them a chance at a second life. We could see the pruning was effective; new and lush green leaves were sprouting forth from all quite nicely.

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Our visit to the International Oleander Festival proved to be a delightful exercise. We looked beyond the status quo of the garden and looked forward to a re-visit next spring and, especially, the return of the beautiful blooms of Galveston’s beloved oleander bushes.

Great Winter Storm

Photo taken on Galveston Island, near The Hotel Galvez and The Seawall, on February 17, 2021.

Photo taken on Galveston Island, near The Hotel Galvez and The Seawall, on February 17, 2021.

During the Great Winter Storm of 2021, officially called Uri, I was stuck in Houston, when power outages left millions of us Texans without electricity, heat and running water.

By wearing woolen gloves, hats, socks, pants and sweaters around the clock I managed to stay warm (enough). And, because of the presence of a gas stove in my kitchen, I remained well-nourished. Still, my patience and survival skills, like those of others all over the state, were put to the test.

I hated the cold, of course, but I really struggled with the loss of electricity at night. With no TV or radio, no light to read by and the inability to use of my digital devices at will, I was (quite literally ) at a loss. If it hadn’t been for a couple of flashlights and the occasional calls and texts from friends (checking in on me), I would have gone stir crazy!

Fortunately, my personal ordeal lasted just three days. It could have been worse. Much worse. And, for many, it was!

While “roughing it” in Houston, I kept wondering how bad things were in Galveston and how my island neighbors were doing. As it turned out, their cold, dark days were even more challenging than mine and spanned even more long days and nights.

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Neighbors on my street here were great about keeping me updated on how they were faring and the status of their homes - and The Bungalow. My next door neighbor, Jim, took it upon himself to make sure my place would fare as well as possible. He shut off the water and wrapped exposed pipes at The Bungalow, just as he had done at his own home. Jim also ventured out in the freezing weather numerous times and walked in and around my property to see if anything tragic was happening. And, finally, Jim let me know (as soon as he realized it) that some pipes under the house had, despite his efforts, broken.

As unfortunate as that news was, the early notification was a Godsend. It allowed me to call a local plumber to schedule repair work right away.

View of street in front of The Bungalow, taken from my next door neighbor’s home. As she reported, the “white stuff” is ice, not snow!

View of street in front of The Bungalow, taken from my next door neighbor’s home. As she reported, the “white stuff” is ice, not snow!

Today, my son, Matt, and I were finally able to return to the island and meet with Marcos who was at The Bungalow finishing up the tasks at hand. He led us around the property, showed us where the problem areas had been. In all, about a dozen pipes had cracked. Luckily, all were situated under the house, so there were no leaks or damage inside the house. (Gotta love a century-old Craftsman built on a pier-and-beam foundation!)

I knew the scrubs around The Bungalow would have been adversely affected by the Winter Storm Uri, but I was taken aback by the sight of my beloved oleanders in the front yard. All their beautiful green leaves had been replaced by ugly brown ones. Clearly, they will need to be dug up and replaced or pruned down to the ground so new growth can sprout forth near the roots. (Deciding which way to go will be a decision for another day!)

Alas, I really loved my pretty pink oleanders, and I am mourning their loss right now. At the same time, I am giving thanks for the survival of the boxwood hedges, colorful pansies and the 100-year-old live oak tree in the front yard, as well as the fig tree, crepe myrtles and palm trees in the back.

Looking at the lush, green “survivors” makes me smile - as always. But, today, more than ever!




The Mourning Wave

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The Mourning Wave: A Novel of the Great Storm, was released in September. Shortly afterwards, a copy was gifted to me by a friend who knew how much this book would be of interest to me.

William B. Murney, circa 1899. Photo courtesy of Rosenberg Library

William B. Murney, circa 1899.
Photo courtesy of Rosenberg Library

The Mourning Wave was written by Gregory Funderburk, a native Houstonian, former lawyer and, now, a minister at South Main Baptist Church in Houston.

Reportedly, Funderburk had been thinking about the Great Storm of 1900 for decades. As a child, he went to Galveston often with his family on vacations. He remembers staying at a hotel near Gaido’s and The Seawall one night during a terrible rainstorm. He recalls watching the storm and envisioning, even then, what it must have been like to be on the island that fateful night in 1900.

According to Funderburk, thoughts of the Great Storm stayed in his head for years before he set out to write this book.

The Mourning Wave recounts the frightening moments and hours of September 8, 1900, when the most deadly storm in American history made landfall on the beaches of Galveston Island. It tells the story and enormous challenges of three young boys as they struggled to survive the storm that destroyed their home, St. Mary’s Orphan Asylum, and killed all of its other inhabitants.

The surviving orphans were Will Murney, 14; Albert Campbell, 13; and Frank Madera, 12.

The book introduces readers to these and other real-life characters, as well as local and national historic figures on the scene during that time. It relates powerful recollections of the storm survivors — about their own struggles to survive, about their heartbreaks over the thousands of lost souls and about their shock and acceptance of the destruction of their homes, their city and their very ways or life.

At the same time, and importantly, The Mourning Wave offers guidance for anyone facing grief, uncertainty and anxiety in the aftermath of a tragedy. (So timely as our world continues to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic.)

The Mourning Wave asks an important question: Can moments of beauty and redemption arise from chaos in a storm-driven world?

Children, nuns and priests on the steps of St. Mary’s Orphan Asylum, circa 1892. Photo courtesy of Rosenberg Library

Children, nuns and priests on the steps of St. Mary’s Orphan Asylum, circa 1892. Photo courtesy of Rosenberg Library

Crepe Myrtles

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Today, a beautiful 10-foot Tuscarora crepe myrtle was planted in the southwest corner of the backyard of The Bungalow. Adding this tree to the landscape was long-awaited and much-anticipated.

The tree was purchased at Tom’s Thumb Nursery, and its crew handled the installation. As expected, all went well, and the job was done right. The correct size hole was dug. Nutrients were added to the soil. The tree was planted in the ground securely and straight up. Then, it was given the right amount of water. Afterwards, mulch was added to the area.

The crew of four made the job look easy, but it was a crew of four. Folks who think planting a large tree is a do-it-yourself project need to rethink that (unless they have lots of extra hands around to help).

Crepe or Crape Myrtles?
The crepe myrtle, commonly called the “lilac of the South,” is one of the area’s most beloved and iconic trees. It is prized for its long blooming season - in the heat and height of the summer. The way a person spells the name of this tree is interesting; it offers a clue to one’s geographic origins.

I grew up in Louisiana, enjoying the beauty of lots of crepe (with two Es) myrtles, the most commonly accepted “southern” spelling. North of some unspecified crepe-myrtle border line, it become crape myrtle.

But, despite the difference in spelling, these trees offer hundreds of blooms, colorful leaf color in fall and exfoliating bark in a variety of colors (from brown to gray to pink) in winter. To me, crepe myrtles are four-season wonders!

This is the color of the Tuscarora blossoms I’ll be watching for next summer. Can’t wait to see them!

This is the color of the Tuscarora blossoms I’ll be watching for next summer. Can’t wait to see them!

Tuscarora
I chose a Tuscarora Crepe Myrtle for the back yard of The Bungalow - for a number of good reasons.

First its color. This variety will produce hundreds of vibrant, coral-pink flowers next summer. Secondly, it can grow just about anywhere - perfect for barren areas or trouble spots. Thirdly, Tuscaroras don’t need much planting space. They are great for planting in small areas or next to structures (like my cedar fence).

The Tuscarora is also cold hardy. It can withstand temps as low as zero degrees. So, no need to worry about having to top it off during Galveston winters.

And, last but not least, Tuscaroras are highly resistant to disease, powdery mildew and leaf spot. So, fungicide treatments will not be needed. I now have a spectacular tree without the problems.

Trimming the Palms

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Today, the palm trees in the backyard of The Bungalow required trimming. All the hanging, dead and unhealthy fronds needed to be removed and, as always at this time of year, there were a lot of fronds that fit that description. So, as in years past, I called on the highly capable team from Tom’s Thumb Nursery to help me out.

Since becoming the caregiver to seven beautiful, and lofty, Mexican fan palms, I’ve learned a lot about the care and maintenance of them.

For example, palm trees need a full, circular canopy of healthy, green fronds to continue to grow and defend against pests. Trimming away any of the pretty green fronds is not a good idea. Doing so creates a thin and narrow “hurricane cut” that's not good for the health or look of the trees - despite the myth that doing so makes them grow more quickly and protects them during major wind storms. Oddly enough, the opposite is true. Palms are, by nature, designed to bend with the breezes. The bending is actually good for them.

I also learned that if not routinely trimmed, palm trees can pose a significant fire risk. Once the palm fronds die and dry out, they can catch fire quickly. Blowing embers from nearby fires (even from a small fire or barbecue pit) can send sparks from palm fronds to nearby homes. And, believe it or not, palm trees that are not properly pruned will often explode once they catch fire.

Thus, trimming the palms in the backyard of The Bungalow is not a maintenance issue I ignore or delay. Once I see dry, droopy fronds, I call in the experts to help me out. Luckily, in Galveston we have some really good ones.