v10 · the rotation
The garden at a glance
The plan on one screen so you don’t have to hunt. Full detail lives on the Guide, Build beds, and Yard map pages.
Four beds, two columns along the NW fence. Yard map: column 1 (3 ft off the wood fence) = Main Bed (4×12×24 in, house end) flush against the Acid Bed (4×12×18 in, lake end), with a folded 8-mil poly strip sandwiched between the end walls as a moisture break. Column 2 (2.5 ft east) = Berry Bed (4×12×12 in, house end) + the Acid Bed #2 cedar shell (built now with the others, parked under cardboard + wood chips; gets its acid mix and plants fall 2027).
Tomatoes grow on the WEST fence row of the main bed only — the one tall row, so its shadow falls into the aisle, not the next bed. Everything in column 2 stays pruned below 5–6 ft so it never morning-shades column 1.
Berry Bed = about 30 annual strawberries across the whole bed October→May, then summer bell peppers take the whole bed. Sweet potatoes are cut from the plan (owner decision, July 2026).
Rosemary ×1 at the lake-end corner between the two acid beds — in ground or a big pot, never inside the acid beds (it wants lean, dry, non-acid soil). Blooms Feb–Mar exactly when the blueberries do — bumblebee support.
SE border: 3-tier flower border + Owari satsuma mid-border (trunk 1.5–2 ft off the fence, 6-ft mulch ring, plant Feb–Mar 2027, needs 6–8 h sun — this line delivers ~8). See the Guide.
Arbor: 10×10 Yardistry cedar pergola, NE lake corner, one Champanel vine. Before pouring the four 12×24-in concrete footings, ask the HOA whether the plat’s 10-ft rear building line applies to an open-air pergola. (Guide)
Lot facts: the 16-ft utility easement runs along the front of the lot (Wild Gully Way) — there is no back easement, only a 10-ft rear building line that applies to structures, not beds. Yard 45 ft wide × ~26–29 ft deep.
Sun: NW bed columns lit 10–11 summer hours; SE fence line ~8 hours.
The short list
The 10 things that actually matter
If you only remember ten sentences from this whole garden, let them be these. Do these ten reasonably well and almost everything else will sort itself out.
- Water deeply and less often. A long soak that wets the soil 6 inches down beats a daily sprinkle—because deep watering grows deep roots, and deep roots survive a Texas August.
- Mulch everything, 3–4 inches, kept off the stems. It is the single highest-return thing you can do in Texas: it holds water, blocks weeds, and cools the soil so the roots can breathe.
- Plant at the right time, not the right mood. In Conroe, October is the big planting month and July is for building, not planting. The calendar matters more than effort—a plant set out in the right week outgrows one planted a month early by a mile.
- Plant at the same depth it sat in the pot. Burying a stem deeper than it grew is a top beginner plant-killer. Match the soil line to the soil line and call it done.
- Feed the soil, not the plant. Compost is the whole strategy. You are growing dirt that grows plants—get the dirt right and the plants mostly take care of themselves.
- Full sun means 6–8+ hours. If a plant sulks, refuses to grow, or leans hard one way, sun is the first suspect—before water, before fertilizer, before panic.
- Don’t fertilize a struggling plant. Check water, sun, and drainage first. Fertilizer on a sick root system makes it worse—it’s like handing a sandwich to someone with the stomach flu.
- Walk the garden 5 minutes a day. Noticing early is 90% of pest control, and honestly it is the best part of the day anyway. Coffee in hand, no agenda, just look.
- Harvest promptly and never leave fallen fruit. Ripe and rotting fruit is exactly what pulls in stinging wasps—and this family has a serious wasp allergy. So this one is a safety rule, not a tidiness rule. Pick it, eat it, or compost it the same day. Safety rule — wasp allergy
- Start smaller than you think, and let it be imperfect. A slightly weedy garden you enjoy beats a perfect one you dread. You can always add a bed next season. You cannot add back the fun you lost to perfectionism.
Permission granted
Things that are OK
You have explicit permission for all of the below. Gardening is a hobby, not a performance. Nobody is grading you.
- It’s OK to lose plants. That is tuition, not failure.
- It’s OK to be a week late. The garden forgives a soft schedule.
- It’s OK to buy transplants instead of starting seeds. Plenty of excellent gardeners never start a seed.
- It’s OK to skip a weekend. Life happens. The plants will wait.
- It’s OK to not know what something is yet. You will learn it when you need to.
- It’s OK to ask for help. Neighbors, the extension office, and the internet all want you to win.
Quick triage
When something looks wrong
Before you do anything drastic, read this. Most “emergencies” in a first-year garden are not emergencies. Slow down, look once, and usually just wait a day.
- Leaves wilting in the afternoon heat but fine in the morning? Normal, not an emergency. That’s the plant folding its umbrella. Deep-water once and leave it alone.
- Yellow lower leaves? Usually water, not food. Check drainage and your watering rhythm before reaching for fertilizer.
- Holes in leaves? Look for the bug at dawn or dusk—that’s when they’re active. A few holes are cosmetic; a swarm deserves a plan.
- Not sure what’s wrong? If in doubt, water deeply once and wait two days before doing anything drastic. Most problems either resolve themselves or reveal what they really are within 48 hours.
One more breath: you do not have to get all ten things right at once. Get the first three (deep water, mulch, right time) and you’re already ahead of most first-year gardens in Texas. The rest is refinement—and refinement is the fun part.
You have a plan, a calendar, and a checklist—you are not doing this from memory.