August 03, 2026
Turns out, moving 900 miles to a new state and downsizing houses is a walloping big life change. If you’ve wondered why I’ve been quiet on the blog for the past month, that’s why!
To recap, this spring we sold our Austin house and garden of 17 years and packed up our belongings for storage. We lived in Austin for 32 years, raised our kids there, and adored the city, rapid growth and all. We still have dear friends and family in Austin and across Texas.
But life is short, and as adults our kids had both landed in Colorado, and David had retired. It was time for a change.
On May 4, we packed up our cars, said goodbye to the garden, and headed north. Our scheduled overnight in northeastern New Mexico turned into two nights as we waited out a late spring snowstorm along the Front Range of the Rockies. We didn’t want snowstorm-driving to be our introduction to our new home state.
That right there — a snowstorm in May — brought home to me how different living in Colorado would be. Well, that and the scenery!
We moved into a furnished rental house in Denver, our home base for the next two months as we house-hunted, purchased a home, and leased it back to the sellers for a few weeks. While we awaited our move-in date, I had fun exploring Denver, visiting local gardens, wandering in parks, and venturing into the mountains.
In early July we moved into our new house. And now my days are consumed with unpacking, sorting, and house projects! But it’s worth it because I’m in love with our little 1924 Craftsman bungalow with its long windowed porch, creaky oak floors, and original wood trim and doors.
The house sits high on a leafy street in the Washington Park neighborhood, only a short walk from the park. We feel so lucky to be here, and we’re eager to be good caretakers of this 100-year-old piece of Denver’s residential history.
Our new house is much smaller than our 1970s ranch house in Austin, although it does have a fully finished basement, so it’s not as small as it looks from the street. Still, we’ve been shedding excess furniture since the arrival of our moving van, which was loaded before we knew what size house we’d end up with.
The lot is an even more dramatic downsizing. It’s 68% smaller than our previous one-third acre, which I’d completely gardened up.
Even so, there’s room to garden here. A previous owner terraced the steep front yard and planted pollinator-friendly perennials like coreopsis, spiderwort, daisy, primrose, iris, and rose campion. The beds are a little weedy with turf grass creeping in and volunteer catalpa getting a toehold. But throughout the chaos of moving in and getting settled, it’s been a joy to have this little garden and see new flowers opening every week.
Shasta daisy and coreopsis
Salvia catching some afternoon rays. The front garden faces west but gets some shade from two large street trees.
A hibiscus just opened up last week.
Rabbits are constant garden companions here. But no deer — hallelujah!
View from the upper yard. That’s a catalpa on the left and a silver maple on the right.
A strip of grass — the only turf grass on the property — makes a cool, green apron across the front of the house and in the narrow side yard. But I’m not much for lawn, plus Colorado is in a serious drought, so I’ll do something else here in time.
I was excited about the two aspen trees at the corner of the house until I saw that one is mostly dead and the other is diseased. Aspens may be iconic Colorado trees, but they’re mountain trees and not suited to Denver’s increasingly hotter climate. An arborist is coming to take them down.
I love, love, love my new porch. Divided-light windows on each end…
…and casement windows along the front add charm and, I assume, protection from winter winds. The casement windows can be opened in summer for ventilation. There are few mosquitoes here, which never ceases to bring me joy, so screening isn’t necessary for evening enjoyment. A skylight brings light into the porch and the adjacent living room.
Our cozy new living room has its own skylight.
In back, it’s a fully paved entertaining space. This is a listing photo from early spring, before the massive trumpet vines in every corner of the yard had leafed out. The greenhouse-like structure on the right is a sort of shed.
A long serving counter contains a sink and grilling space. A tall pergola defines the space but doesn’t provide meaningful shade. And it gets HOT out here with all the paving, although in the evening it’s comfortable.
Another listing photo — a historical one from a previous sale — shows the yard with the trumpet vines in full swing. They’re showy and pollinators love them, and they’re tough as old boots. They also provide almost all the greenery in the backyard. But they’re very aggressive, popping up in every crevice, and they’re trying to eat our house and garage and the neighbor’s garage too. They must go.
At the rear of the backyard, there’s a sunken patio with a stone fountain and wood-burning fireplace. It must have been a pleasant evening entertaining space at one time. But wood-burning fireplaces aren’t allowed here for air-quality reasons, and the fountain isn’t my style. Plus the sunken patio is a hazard with no railing to keep people from accidentally stepping off the walkway along the garage. I’m dreaming about pulling up all this impervious paving and making a garden here.
For now I’m enjoying this purple clematis…
…and a bevy of black-eyed Susans in a wall planter. The new garden will come later, after we get the house sorted, and I need time to learn the plants and growing climate anyway.
Neighborhood park
From our street corner, we can see glittering Smith Lake in Washington Park. Even on the hottest days, the 165-acre park is an oasis in the city. Evening is my favorite time to walk over.
One day I will rent a swan paddle boat, or a duck, flamingo, or dragon. The mountain view beyond the lake wows me. Do Denverites know how lucky they are to have such views? Not to mention the city’s marvelous park system, with one or two parks within walking distance of every neighborhood?
I usually amble over to the Big Garden to admire the beautiful perennial garden…
…or the Mount Vernon Garden on the shore of Grasmere Lake.
There’s also good people-watching — and dog-watching — in the park.
Strolling home at dusk, I spot our little house glowing like a lantern above the street.
I welcome your comments. Please scroll to the end of this post to leave one. If you’re reading in an email, click here to visit Digging and find the comment box at the end of each post. And hey, did someone forward this email to you, and you want to subscribe? Click here to get Digging delivered directly to your inbox!
__________________________
Digging Deeper
“Gardens of Texas is not your typical door stop/coffee table book filled with beautiful images of gardens you can never hope to achieve. The photography is definitely inspiring, but Pam’s thoughtful, detailed storytelling and “Try This At Home” features…makes one feel empowered to create similar garden magic….This is what I’ll curl up with on late August afternoons when the mercury in Austin soars and I’m stuck indoors.”
–MomInAustin, a reviewer on Amazon
Gardens of Texas: Visions of Resilience from the Lone Star State is here! It’s for anyone who loves gardens or the natural beauty of Texas. Find it on Amazon, other online book sellers, and in stores everywhere. More info here.
All material © 2026 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
