muppinstuff

new life in neglected garden

With the recent rain and cooler weather our garden has sprung back to life. Seeds are sprouting everywhere. Self sown seeds, seeds from when I emptied all the remaining seeds from the big seed tin. Lots of mystery. But I've seen cos lettuce, radish, bok choy and silver beet. Calendulas (which are close to a weed here) and much parsley. I'm hoping for some beetroot too because homegrown winter beetroot is a revelation. Talking about revelation, we ate the one apple that made it to maturity on the golden delicious apple tree. There were three, one disappeared early and Grace picked the second before it was ripe after I asked her not to (she'd been eyeing it off) and discovered the kind of trouble where there is no yelling, just quiet disapointment. Anyway, one apple made it and we ate it in turns and it was so truly unbelievably delicious, so perfect, I found myself asking, is that the same type of apple we buy in the shop?

The sage are starting to flower and there are geraniums everywhere, among the euphorbia and up into the tree tops. Some of the decidous trees in the park have new growth, dead leaves and leaves about to change colour and fall. It occurs to me that really we have two major growing seasons here, spring and autumn and in my next garden I should try and plan most of my activity around them. Occasionally you do have a summer with enough rain for summer vegies. Although with a tank or grey water system we could probably manage a small summer garden even in dry conditions. Not in this garden though, I'm quite enjoying letting go and just watching, doing the occasional tidy up. Or not. I'm having lots of thoughts about our next garden. There will definitely be apple and other fruit trees. I'm imagining the sort of garden that does well with sporadic burst of work.

The view from our toilet is looking pretty special at the moment. That's G to the left, burning perspex in the barbeque, for safety research purposes of course. The perspex is for the windows of the dolls house he's renovating. More to come on that subject later. I'm off to an auction in a bit, just for research purposes also, the house isn't in the area we're looking at but it's the same kind of house with a very flash reno and they're asking big bucks for it. So I'm going for a sticky.

a whiff of rain

Mum told me this morning that we had thirteen centimetres of rain last night. Everything feels washed clean and the ground is spongy underfoot. The plants in the garden are standing upright and although it's still singlet weather, there's a tinge of about to be cold in the air and a whiff of more rain to come.

Yesterday the ground was so dry that Grace was making sandcastles in the vegie patch and I was bucketing washing machine water over the lemon tree and some of my herbaceous plants that looked on the verge of death. Even the weeds had given up. We'd swept the paths and tidied up but dust just blew around. Now lovely rain has washed the paths clean. Hopefully there really will be more rain again soon and seeds lying dormant will shoot and then we'll have a garden again.

little plum jam

We have a big old plum tree in the centre of our back yard. Possibly grown from weed seeds, probably more than one plant growing in the same hole. The leaves grow lacy from cutleaf moth and parts of the bark are insect infested and crumbling. Parrots squawk overhead, dropping squishy plum missiles and birdshit onto the washing (reaching a crescendo just after Christmas as the plums ferment). G curses the plums on the grass and the path. And inevitably, despite feet wiping and shoes removing, track all through the house. He's much better at sweeping them up than I am.

Yesterday and Sunday I made plum jam (recipe here). These plums aren't great to eat on their own and they're a bugger to prepare but they make the best jam. Especially when made with a precentage of green fruit. The first batch is mouth puckeringly tart. Mum suggested that I could make some with ripe fruit as well, so for the second batch I left out the really green ones. It's still pretty tangy but that's the way I like it. If I get a chance, I'll make another batch when they're fully ripe. I think they're damson plums. If anyone knows for sure, please let me know.

First we pick and wash the fruit.

 

Then we stone it. My hands are not recovered yet. I know, I should wear gloves, but it's too slow.

Put the jars in the oven before boiling the jam. Admire your super large preserving pan found at the opshop sometime in the nineties and mix all the sugar in. Wonder about the childminding arrangements. G agreed to look after Grace while the jam was boiling on Sunday but she wanted to help me. At one stage, I thought I was going to have burnt jam and hours of wasted preparation or much worse, a burnt child. Not that it was close, just that boiling four kilos of fruit and sugar on a low and wonky stove and supervising a toddler is beyond nervewracking (never again). The deal was supposed to involve G supervising Grace while I cooked, whether or not she wanted to be involved. So I could concentrate during the critical part. Mum knows how to do this. G dissappeared into his shed at the first sign thing looked OK. Which varies moment to moment with a two and a half year old. And I am still not the easiest person to deal with.

Anyway, I made the second batch yesterday. While Grace was napping. It was so much easier. I even stood at the stove and did some light mending. Alternating with stirring. Then I poured the jam into jars and listened for the snap of the cellophane covers shrinking.

I saw a stray pip and some froth. Talked on the phone about jam with a friend, neither of us goes for jam making perfection because it always turns out well enough. And always far better than shop jam. In odd parts of the day, I wondered whether I could have skimmed the froth more. I used to skim alot because that's how my nan taught me. I'm less and less inclined to skim now. What causes the froth? Is it sugar boiling or impurities in the fruit? And does it mostly go away by itself?  Looked to the internet for answers and the best I could come up with was this. Which didn't really answer my question.

Next up apricot. And maybe some of the little yellow plums which I've never jammed before. Must plant some damson pips in a pot. 

If you're happy and you know it

It feels so very un-australian (a favourite cliche) but I think I'm going to have to write a list of things that make me happy and/or that I am grateful for. Because I'm over myself and just can't think about still having a cold or that I should go to work on Monday and therefore I have to feel better. (Sticks fingers in ears and goes la la la la). I also need something to go between the potty portraits. So:

1. Spending time in an undergound, perhaps to be heritage listed (really) ladies room taking self-portraits. Not so sure about the results yet, but it was fun, in a seedy sort of way.

2. This picture. It makes me happy. Eventhough, when G turned up with this particular toy, I thought to myself, we really don't need another thing in the backyard. He finds all sorts of abandoned playthings on his walks, brings them home and fixes them up. I do like that about him though, it's quite endearing. Grace really likes it too.

3. My new to me Saba fine black 100% wool ribbed jumper. Below hip length with long, long raglan sleeves. So very me. From Savers, the day after the sale. Destiny.

4. Taking Grace to the zoo. It was so exciting catching the tram and seeing the trains. Of course she had to sit on the elephant statue, and of course we had to take her photo. (There was a queue almost). However, this is the first time she's been interested in the animals, joining the line of toddlers standing against the glass watching the primates. It was worth the tantrums at the end. We're still having excited breathy conversations about the tigey tigers, 'raffes, elephants and the butterfies eating. It's opened up a whole new world of books too.

5. The way you can see the blossom give way to fruit on the apricot tree and it's been raining. The longer it rains, the better.

6. Eating lettuce, radishes and snow peas from our neglected vegetable patch. And parsley, spring onions, garlic shoots, rosemary and thyme. And the sage is about to bloom. It gives me great pleasure to have beds of useful plants that are also pretty.

7. The thought of starting a new garden. There may well be months and months of househunting and being in a weird sort of limbo first but that's OK. I'm ready to begin again, I have my list for tomorrow. I have a feeling eight's too many, three or four might be more realistic, but I'll see how we go.

8. Orville has a new friend.

9. Thanks to modern medicine, my tooth no longer hurts. It's been hurting (just a dull ache) so long that I had forgotten what a totally painfree mouth felt like. As soon as I can breathe properly through my nose, I'm going to book that root canal. Yep, I'm really pleased about that. Why did it take me so long to commit?

10. Our local supermarket has this cheap wine that's not too bad (except the shiraz cabernet which is a stinker IMO) and there's been really yummy strawberries, also cheap and have you tried the new Coles belgian chocolate (so called) with mint chips? Mmm. At least the strawberries are good for you.

tumble weeds

I feel like I've fallen out of my blogging chair, that there are big tumble weeds blowing in from from the west. I'm chasing them, but if you've ever chased a tumbleweed, you'll know they're pretty hard to catch. Actually most of my life at the moment feels a bit like chasing tumbleweeds. Not at all unpleasant, indeed the desert air is crisp and clean, the scenery stunning (in an internal rather than a literal sense) and the company fine. I've had a horrid cold too, which has necessitated more rest than usual and a fair whack of cough medicine at night on top of the sleepers.  Nights have been strange, even before the cough medecine and as I've been cruising the blogosphere, I'm sure I've left the odd comment, that is well, a bit odd. Especially last night, after I spilt a glass of beer in my crochet basket (misjudged the side table, very sticky). Anyway, I've been sleeping like a stone with intense dreams that I can barely remember, the sort that slip away on waking, leaving a fragment of tumble weed.

Speaking of weeds, our garden is full of them. Chickweed mainly. Which I am looking at, thinking about pulling out, but lacking the usual enthusiasm for. Too much time spent chasing tumble weeds. And planning new gardens.

So beyond picking and maintaining the vegies in a most minimal way, I think my next big garden effort will involve setting up a cutting and seedling nursery. In preparation. Although after I attended an auction yesterday, just for practice, and to imagine what it would be like bidding at one,  I'm wondering whether we can afford Pascoe Vale. Which I've started to feel very positive about. Still I guess it's a bit like looking for a rental house, you go and you imagine living there and you apply and then you don't get it, so you move on in your search, adjusting your expectations as you go. Except with buying a house, all the extended family come to look at various times, and puts their two cents in. Because buying a house is a Big Thing. It's exciting. And it's a fuck of a lot of money.

The week off work has gone by in a blur; house stuff, lying on the couch, sleeping in, doing some housework, going to my photoshop course and learning how to work with layers, some shopping in town on two occasions, Grace helping me get ready for a teaparty, entertaining some lovely ladies (and two bubbies) at lunchtime, being left breathless with the sense of conversations just begun but isn't that always the way so now I expect it, starting a new ripple crochet scarf which is a bit funny (and now smells like a pub) but compels me to watch lots of telly (cutting into my blog time), spending an afternoon with mum and making a new wrap top (which had some problems and I wish I had time to write about sewing but I might later), going to the new and cheaper dentist and discovering that I need another root canal treatment (oh surprise) because there's an abscess under an old filling and the tooth has probably died, which while not always painful is probably filling my system with infection to fight(gross), more sewing, more house stuff, several loads of laundry, having lunch with my dad and sister and still being allowed auntie cuddles with Ruby-Lee eventhough I still have a cold, yet more house stuff and now we have a visitor from Tasmaina and I should be cooking lunch. With my little helper. So I might leave with a picture of my garden from a distance, looking into a spring sun.

From behind the yelllow jasmine. Practising framing, as discussed in my photoshop class, and trying not to just take close ups of plants which I love, but are, in my view, much easier to do. Not that this has been photoshopped like this or this. Not at all. And when we do move, I'm going to want pictures of this garden. And because G mowed the lawn which always makes it look pretty. Back at work tommorow, not sad about it, but wouldn't have minded another week. Still that's how it goes.

Snatch and grab gardening

When I first started this garden, there was nothing I liked better than a whole day with my hands in the soil, by myself or with a quiet fellow gardener. Not coming inside until it was well and truly dark. I'm not the garden fanatic I once was and my days seem so full of other things now. That said, I really miss my time in the garden if I don't have it. And miss having food to pick fresh. So I'm making an effort. Part of this is trying to make the garden more of a joint venture. G is really good at weeding and mowing the grass but I'd like the growing and picking of vegetables to be something he could do, especially once I go back to work full time. In consultation and without fighting. Which is difficult, because apparently I'm really bossy. And so is Grace.

During Saturday morning's garden effort she snatched seeds from my hands, trampled recently planted onions and wrestled the watering can from her dad. Grace is keen though, and I just love seeing her pick one of the remaining beans from vine and eat it, standing in the vegie patch saying yum. Sometimes she picks some silverbeet for lunch, and comes inside saying, bean, bean. Bean meaning food in a general sense. I'm learning that it's important to give her little jobs to do, like helping her to pull out a weed and asking her to put it on the compost. And getting her involved in sprinkling seeds around. We might have a few things come up in odd places but I don't think that matters really.

 

We've had some rain and weeds and seeds are sprouting all over the place. Lots of self sown cos lettuce, garlic bulblets and onions that I missed over summer, spring flowering annuals like nigella and flanders poppies. We even have a second lot of cosmos flowering. And the sage border is looking rather splendiferous. The soil is looking better than it has for a while and I've been trying to focus our limited gardening efforts to sowing seeds and planting rather than general tidy up. If you don't sow, you don't grow and you don't get is what I've been saying. G agrees with me, in principle, but still finds it hard not to weed the whole garden then plant. This used to be the way I did things, but if your garden time is limited to an hour here and there, and a mosey around when you hang out the washing, then I think planting should be the first thing you do when you have a little chunk of time, not the last.

Being happy about the rain

There's been welcome rain around here over the last few days. The TV news showed happy politicians and pictures of people carrying umbrellas and wearing raincoats through city streets where rain flowed into the gutters. Not to mention rain soaked paddocks with pools of water and happy farmers. Although I'm guessing there would still be lots of anxious and worried people out in the country. One patch of rain does not break a drought. Still, it's good to see lush green grass and weeds growing in the garden. I'm even thinking about planting winter vegetables. Yet there is part of me that is becoming more melancholy than usual, part of me that is closing off and wants to sit in front of the telly with my crochet (granny squares, pictures soon). It's getting cold and I really don't like wet weather. I like what rain means and does, of course. I just don't getting about in it. But I've told myself that this year, I'm not allowed to grizzle about the rain. Because we need it, lots of it. Days and weeks and months of it.

On Thursday, I was working at a different office than usual and was sitting where I had no good view outside. What I did see was wet and gloomy. The customers came in with bedraggled hair, wearing raincoats, shaking umbrellas. I had the same conversation over and over (I find it adds a pleasant and convivial dimension to the day having a Topic To Talk About). So, I asked if it was still raining outside and they gave me little weather reports as I attended to their paperwork and other business. Many said they thought the rain was good and seemed unbothered as to how it might affect their day. Some seemed genuinely happy to be out and about in it. A few moaned and groaned and I said that I wasn't allowing myself to complain about it this year. Because we really need it. Most agreed with me then. Yeah, yeah for the farmers.

So I'm going to try and appreciate the rain. Celebrate it even. Go for walks in my raincoat, teach Grace how to stomp in puddles (she has pink and yellow spotty gumboots now after one of the barbie boots dissappeared, possibly over the back fence), sit inside and watch the rain while reading or sewing, bake and eat wintery stodge, go for more walks - maybe even the bush, think of a new water feature for G to intall and of course, take lots and lots of pictures of rain soaked beauty. Hopefully while not destroying my camera. Which I will need to take lots and lots of pictures of my new niece(?) who will be born sometime over the next few days I hope.  Excitement!

Although really it's not just the rain. I had rather a good chat with my head doctor yesterday. We talked about work and home, the sundry worries and tensions in my life. And about the big headache I seem to be getting fairly frequently and about how I'm not sleeping well. She said I had a lot on my plate and that it isn't surprisng that I was a bit anxious. Normal even. Which is nice to hear. It's not just that I'm being neurotic about the weather. Sometimes when you've been a bit crazy it can be hard to tell the difference between your life being tricky or going through one of those patches and being well, crazy. She also said that it was good to keep writing and taking pictures, even if sometimes it comes from a place of anxiety or melancholy. Or something to that effect. She also gave me a script for some very gentle sleepers. No-one has suggested that before and what a difference a night's sleep makes.  I'm even looking forward to going to bed tonight, after one last granny square. And to more rainy days. 

ooh, the tree dahlias are out

Just a couple of days ago, I was looking at some tree dahila pictures on Flickr and thinking, oh ours won't be out for ages yet. At least another three weeks. So this morning, when I looked up from hanging out the washing, I got quite a surprise when I saw tree dahlias everywhere. Maybe I missed something yesterday or maybe they popped their buds overnight. They are a little early, last year they bloomed in early June. I know this because I wrote about it and it's a post consistently visited by the googlers (gardeners, I imagine). This afternoon I took some time out from my sewing, and braved the bees and a ladder to get up close.

Aren't they they most glorious plant? And they're big, taller than the house and ridiculously easy to grow. They have a pretty, if slightly triffid like, foliage during summer. Ideal for renter's gardens, for places where you want something big, quickly, or for the back of perrenial beds. You would think that they'd be a weed or a pest plant but they're not so rampant that you couldn't get rid of them if you wanted. Best of all, they bloom just as you realise that winter's really coming and that you're going to have to start wearing shoes, closing the house and turning the heater on.

They're likely to bloom for about a month, unless they get blown down by high winds. Then we'll cut the canes down. If anyone (in Australia) would like a cutting, let me know.

Brown is the colour

To say that this years summer garden is the biggest failure to date is a pretty harsh statement. There was a drought, it's true but it really wasn't all that hot and there was some rain. The soil wasn't as dry as deep down as it's been in other more succesful years. Not being able to water when I like has had a bigger impact than I would have thought. I've never been much of a waterer but I think for the vegetables at least, it's been the difference between failure and success. Maybe I watered more than I thought. By the end of February I'd pretty much given up. Still, it was pretty hard to come home from holidays and see the vegetable patch shrivelled to almost nothing. The tomatoes and eggplant had succumbed to a virus. The zinnias also looked infected and sad and I'm wondering if water stress made the garden more open to infection. Or maybe it was just a bad year all round, although there was no sign of any sort of fungus which normally shows up on cucumbers and zucchinis (not that any of them got big enough for fungus).  All the lettuce had gone to seed. The beetroot are holding on but I imagine they'll taste dry and woody. The beans germinated eratically and have not set well. 

The perennial beds are fine and have perked up with the recent rain. But the Virginia creeper has pretty much lost its' leaves. Not in the flaming glory that I look forward to every year but with dry brown leaves that cling to the vines. I'm hoping that it hasn't got the tomato virus too. Maybe it missed it's weekly dousing of bath water and is just water stressed. Anyway I'm most annoyed because it's a big autumn treat for me, to sit under the vine and watch the red, red leaves fall to the ground and lie around in elegant drifts. Not this year.

The ugliness of the vegie patch was getting me down, so on the weekend I spent an hour or two and pulled out everything that looked dead or dying. I was careful to put all the diseased plants in the bin rather than the compost, even though it pains me to throw out organic matter. Once all the yucky stuff was gone, I felt better about the garden and even enjoyed some of the healthy drying stands of plants. And could see the beauty of the Jerusalem Artichokes a little more clearly. We don't eat them, although I hear that they're nice with lots of butter, and they're quite expensive to buy. But I think they taste like cardboard and they give you the most hideous wind. So we just grow them for the flowers.

My next garden is going to have a water tank and proper grey water recycling. Although if I'm still here next year, we'll have to figure out something a bit more suitable for renters. Perhaps channelling the run off from the roof onto the vegie patch? Anyway it's raining now and I'm starting to think about what to put in next; broadbeans, lettuce, snowpeas, more beetroot, coriander and maybe some onions. Is it too early for onions? I have half a thought that nothing will grow, no matter what I do. But the other half of me is plotting which seeds to sow and where. And what we'll be cooking when they come up. Such is the optimism of gardening.

Yesterday morning

Yesterday morning before a late breakfast. Sitting under the vine. Talking with Grace. G working in the shed. Patches of the Virginia Creeper vine around the tree are dying but it still looks pretty good on the whole. Actually lots of the garden, especially my tomatoes and zinnias, looks sick. Tomato wilt? Do zinnias get tomato wilt? Or is it the grey water from Grace's bath? Which I thought would be OK given the miniscule amount of soap in it. Or just not enough water? Or something else altogether? Mostly the Virgina Creeper is still going strong. As are the geraniums, heliotrope and sages. A green resting place for the eyes. Summer gardens need plants that stay green when all else shrivels.

   

And my favourite orange poppy, which the other gardener mum in my mother's group told me is a Welsh Poppy. I've never had them flower all through summer before, but I've been cutting the seed heads off and every so often get a flush of new blooms. They don't last long in the heat. Just a couple of hours in the morning. Which is really all you need.