there's recently been an outbreak of measles in our fair city. an outbreak comes about when there is no longer herd immunity... this is what they say. being as we don't consider ourselves to be cattle, we've taken a more natural approach to immunisation.
namely, swapping marmite sandwiches with a measlee at playcentre.
needless to say, we were 'banned', or excluded (if you prefer) from attending playcentre for a period of 14 days; sufficient time, so they say, for us to develop and get over measles. or not.
no worries. we've had plenty of other things to get on with!
30.8.09
spring, in the republic
16.8.09
revolutionary road
this is a case of not judging a book by its cover. or rather, not judging a dvd by its name (or actors, or director)
this is not a film review; other than to say there is no revolutionary action going on in the film of this name.
however, one potential revolutionary wasn't tired last night, so rather than spending hours trying to get the non-sleepy toddler back to sleep we thought we'd try the traditional adult method of falling-asleep-in-front-of-a-film.
except, when it's your first film, your eyes are glued to the screen.
for c, it was all a bit confusing. normally he sees nannie via skype on the computer screen. who were these other people? he pointed to the screen and asked -nannie? no, calix, nannie's sleeping right now.
in one scene the actor turned to leave the room, c waved bye-bye.
another scene, there are four characters around a table. c says -hmmhmm, and sure enough, there are 2 china dogs sat on the shelf behind the main scene.
so it turns out, like his dad, he's not interested in kate winslet either!
it was a shame that for his first film we couldn't have managed something a little better.
(that's what happens when you send me to get the film!)
xx
mama b
(not one of the judges at cannes)
this is not a film review; other than to say there is no revolutionary action going on in the film of this name.
however, one potential revolutionary wasn't tired last night, so rather than spending hours trying to get the non-sleepy toddler back to sleep we thought we'd try the traditional adult method of falling-asleep-in-front-of-a-film.
except, when it's your first film, your eyes are glued to the screen.
for c, it was all a bit confusing. normally he sees nannie via skype on the computer screen. who were these other people? he pointed to the screen and asked -nannie? no, calix, nannie's sleeping right now.
in one scene the actor turned to leave the room, c waved bye-bye.
another scene, there are four characters around a table. c says -hmmhmm, and sure enough, there are 2 china dogs sat on the shelf behind the main scene.
so it turns out, like his dad, he's not interested in kate winslet either!
it was a shame that for his first film we couldn't have managed something a little better.
(that's what happens when you send me to get the film!)
xx
mama b
(not one of the judges at cannes)
13.8.09
how to make a garden (part 3)
in the final part of the garden making trilogy i'm going to talk about planting.
plants are what gardening is all about; that, and how you arrange your collection. some people choose to make each plant into an individual specimen, while others make great sweeping brushstrokes of colour. if you're anything like me you've been collecting plants for years. the back of my head is like a filing cabinet of plants seen growing, flowering, rambling. each drawer is divided into seasons and climates, soil types and positions. unfortunately sometimes it seems like someone has nicked the labels off the drawers, but the collection is still there, all the same.
my plant collection is vast- evergreen and deciduous trees, roses, shrubs both flowering and 'not', herbaceous perennials, alpines.... but being as we don't have 3hectares at our disposal in the republic we've settled for anything edible. if we can't eat it, (or if it doesn't fit into the ecosupportsystem) it's not coming in.
the plants you choose will have an immediate effect on the amount of time you spend in your garden. for example, an experienced gardener will spend probably 10 minutes dead-heading (cutting off spent flowers) each rose bush, every fortnight in summer. they're things of beauty, roses, but have you got that time? because without that maintenance your rose will fail to perform. (not to mention pest control; in this instance roses are probably one of the highest maintenance plants to have in a garden) it'll probably still be lovely, but not magnificent, which it deserves to be. if you've not got the time, maybe you could choose another flowering shrub instead, or a perennial.
weeding is also an issue, unless, like me, you expand on the definition of weed (-a weed is a plant that is not in the correct place). many plants that might traditionally be considered weeds in others' gardens are welcome in mine. they might be considered chook food, nursery plants (plants that provide shelter for smaller plants, seedlings for example) or salad items- dandelion is a classic example! personally, i abhor weeding. i'd rather devote a bit of time in the winter to weed prevention by applying heavy layers of mulch.
mulch serves many purposes by suppressing weeds, minimising evaporation, and acting as a bit of insulation against those bitter frosty mornings. mulch feeds the worms, and therefore nourishes your soil as well.
what can i say, i am a lazy bugger. i'd rather spend my time peacefully watering my plants, harvesting them, or simply looking at them!
the last thing i can advise you on before i set you off to design your own dream garden is compost.
if you imagine life in nature at the bottom of the forest floor you'll see right down close to the soil worms, fungi, and all sorts of insects, doing their job at breaking down the 'litter'. the leaves fall, branches too, the odd bird or other forest creature and the disposal team will be busy breaking it down into small elements, carbon, nitrogen, phosphorous; the occassional forest fire will clean up what's left and sweeten the soil, adding also potassium and magnesium. this is the ideal. this is nature providing for itself. habitat.
this could get a wee bit messy in your garden. so we collect our leaves, our grass clippings, our hedge cuttings, the occassional dead bird, some poo (if you've got chickens, otherwise you could add horse or cow poo). add a bit of water, make sure it's well aerated (poke a fork around in it) and then leave it for mother nature to send in her team. provided it reaches the right temperature it should kill all the seeds, germs and nasties and about a year later: voila! the perfect garden tonic. all those lovely nutrients your garden used perviously returned to the soil. things you can add to increase the nutrient levels include comfrey, seaweed, the old ashes from your barbeque. the thing is, you don't want it to be all one thing- grass clippings for example.
our compost system has 3 bins, one that we're adding to, one that's composting, and one that we're using (that's finished composting).
i think that about covers it.
i've enjoyed writing about it as much as i've enjoyed doing it! of course, you're all welcome to come round and have a look and give me your top tips for gardening. (actually, we're hosting the local edible gardens network in a coupla weeks time. bring your sandwiches!)
next time i'll put some piccies, i promise
xx
mama b
ps, progress report on the glasshouse:
p was working hard in the rain today while c and i supervised from the window. we're ready to put the roof on tomorrow, windows in saturday!!! next week i'll be digging and carting soil as fast as i can so then i can sow my seeds! woohoo!
plants are what gardening is all about; that, and how you arrange your collection. some people choose to make each plant into an individual specimen, while others make great sweeping brushstrokes of colour. if you're anything like me you've been collecting plants for years. the back of my head is like a filing cabinet of plants seen growing, flowering, rambling. each drawer is divided into seasons and climates, soil types and positions. unfortunately sometimes it seems like someone has nicked the labels off the drawers, but the collection is still there, all the same.
my plant collection is vast- evergreen and deciduous trees, roses, shrubs both flowering and 'not', herbaceous perennials, alpines.... but being as we don't have 3hectares at our disposal in the republic we've settled for anything edible. if we can't eat it, (or if it doesn't fit into the ecosupportsystem) it's not coming in.
the plants you choose will have an immediate effect on the amount of time you spend in your garden. for example, an experienced gardener will spend probably 10 minutes dead-heading (cutting off spent flowers) each rose bush, every fortnight in summer. they're things of beauty, roses, but have you got that time? because without that maintenance your rose will fail to perform. (not to mention pest control; in this instance roses are probably one of the highest maintenance plants to have in a garden) it'll probably still be lovely, but not magnificent, which it deserves to be. if you've not got the time, maybe you could choose another flowering shrub instead, or a perennial.
weeding is also an issue, unless, like me, you expand on the definition of weed (-a weed is a plant that is not in the correct place). many plants that might traditionally be considered weeds in others' gardens are welcome in mine. they might be considered chook food, nursery plants (plants that provide shelter for smaller plants, seedlings for example) or salad items- dandelion is a classic example! personally, i abhor weeding. i'd rather devote a bit of time in the winter to weed prevention by applying heavy layers of mulch.
mulch serves many purposes by suppressing weeds, minimising evaporation, and acting as a bit of insulation against those bitter frosty mornings. mulch feeds the worms, and therefore nourishes your soil as well.
what can i say, i am a lazy bugger. i'd rather spend my time peacefully watering my plants, harvesting them, or simply looking at them!
the last thing i can advise you on before i set you off to design your own dream garden is compost.
if you imagine life in nature at the bottom of the forest floor you'll see right down close to the soil worms, fungi, and all sorts of insects, doing their job at breaking down the 'litter'. the leaves fall, branches too, the odd bird or other forest creature and the disposal team will be busy breaking it down into small elements, carbon, nitrogen, phosphorous; the occassional forest fire will clean up what's left and sweeten the soil, adding also potassium and magnesium. this is the ideal. this is nature providing for itself. habitat.
this could get a wee bit messy in your garden. so we collect our leaves, our grass clippings, our hedge cuttings, the occassional dead bird, some poo (if you've got chickens, otherwise you could add horse or cow poo). add a bit of water, make sure it's well aerated (poke a fork around in it) and then leave it for mother nature to send in her team. provided it reaches the right temperature it should kill all the seeds, germs and nasties and about a year later: voila! the perfect garden tonic. all those lovely nutrients your garden used perviously returned to the soil. things you can add to increase the nutrient levels include comfrey, seaweed, the old ashes from your barbeque. the thing is, you don't want it to be all one thing- grass clippings for example.
our compost system has 3 bins, one that we're adding to, one that's composting, and one that we're using (that's finished composting).
i think that about covers it.
i've enjoyed writing about it as much as i've enjoyed doing it! of course, you're all welcome to come round and have a look and give me your top tips for gardening. (actually, we're hosting the local edible gardens network in a coupla weeks time. bring your sandwiches!)
next time i'll put some piccies, i promise
xx
mama b
ps, progress report on the glasshouse:
p was working hard in the rain today while c and i supervised from the window. we're ready to put the roof on tomorrow, windows in saturday!!! next week i'll be digging and carting soil as fast as i can so then i can sow my seeds! woohoo!
12.8.09
how to make a garden (part 2)
so we've already asked our garden some questions- climate, aspect, soil type and condition. we can improve the soil type and condition to suit our needs but this will take some time and a lot of effort. we could even work a little on the climate by creating 'heat-sinks' and microclimates as we have in our garden. - in some cases it can be as simple as painting a north facing wall black, or providing a little shelter from a prevailing or cold wind.
but your aspect you're stuck with.
ours is northerly, which down south, is good.
that established, we ask ourselves: who is going to use the garden, and how?
the citizens of the rara republic all have varying needs and desires. as do their guests and other creatures who visit this garden on their daily forage. calix has a little trike and would dearly love somewhere flat to ride it. he's also into moving small parcels of soil around the garden, diggin and raking. so he needs to have a little patch all of his own- somewhere in a little bit of shade, but sunny enough where he can grow something. papa imagines long summer evenings grilling meat in the garden. he also quite fancies the idea of picking fresh veges to make a salad, but he doesn't want to be a slave to the garden. mama wants to garden. after years of gardening for other people this is her chance to plant something other than an annual and be around to see its fruit. she imagines plenty of herbs to make tissanes for her family, sweet organic veges, and plenty of little spots to sit and contemplate. the chickens, as former forest dwellers, need a tree, some shade, a bit of space, some dust and plenty of food and in return they give us eggs and a beautifully blended organic fertilizer.
the next question you need to give a lot of thought is: how much time do i have to spend in my garden? because despite popular belief, there is no such thing as a low maintenance garden, unless you're talking about a piece of concrete.
my mind's eye recalls many images of my mum in the garden. the hairdos vary according to the decade, but she was always on hand and knee, seemingly in prayer. for her, 8 hours a week in the garden was a religion, she did it more frequently than she went to church. but for me, as a child, working in the garden was a chore. it wasn't until i was older, when i appreciated the importance of 'time to think' that i appreciated the dull monotony of gardening. because that's what it seems- weeding, raking, wandering backwards and forwards behind a mower.... for me, now it's zen. i clear my head of clutter and concentrate on the task. and after a very small while i am calm. but wind the clock back several years and i'd be cursing that broom and dreaming of using it like a pony, galloping off with my mates...
once you've catered to everyone's needs, finally you can down to the nitty gritty of pen to paper.
gardens are filled with symbolism, as we use shapes that are found within nature to worship and admire. as gardeners we are all part-time pagans- worshiping the sun, following the seasons; and at the bottom of every garden you'll find at least one faerie (if you look hard enough). as a designer i like putting pen to paper, then crayon or watercolour as i wander the many paths in my mind for inspiration. other people need to see the shape on the land. one method my mum swears by (and my mum is a very able and creative gardener) is laying a garden hose on the ground and moving it about until the bed's shape materialises before your eyes. more often than not, you'll find your garden beds' shapes take the form of the spiral (or a part of it), a powerful symbol repeated constantly in nature and reverred for centuries. or perhaps, if you're a more formal person, you'd like straight lines and sharp angles. or, if you're a bit like me, you like to dip your toes in both ponds and combine all of nature's simple geometry.
when creating a garden bed it's best to not make the bed any deeper than 60cm (a comfortable reach). or, if you can access it from both sides, 120cm. this avoids having to step on the soil and risk damaging the soil structure. of course, if you fancy digging to alleviate the compaction, by all means, make those beds as deep as you fancy! but sometimes, you just can't avoid it. so don't worry so much. your garden is going to be a thing of beauty and sometimes beauty beats practicality in the paper/rock/scissors war of design.
when creating our garden i knew the shapes i wanted to incorporate. my list of specifications were quite stringent. in the area closest the house i wanted to use spirals to symbolise the sea's waves unfolding. it needed to be paved because, as an area of high traffic it needs to stand up to long winter rainy periods, and many dancing summer feet... also, as it's where our outdoor kitchen is going to be, all the culinary herbs of the mediterranean will be growing 'wild', scattered about. in maori culture the spiral, or koru, symbolises newness, birth and development.
in the other half, the 'vege' garden, i wanted to combine the essence of the french potager with the principals of permaculture: 4 raised beds (to allow for crop rotation) alligned for points of the compass (which also represent the elements, earth, fire, air and water) encircled to create a safe and nurturing environment.
we wanted fruit, plenty of it. so the obvious solution was to create espalier, the ancient art of pruning trees to grow along a flat surface. this way we could accomodate our apricot, apples, pear and nectarine.
honouring the wild aspect and wishing to create a whole ecosystem we've chosen species of plants that encourage preditory insects into the garden, letting nature take care of itself.
we've also chosen heirloom vegetables, the seed collected by hand and passed on through the generations.
have i painted the picture yet? have you painted your own?
(please excuse shoddy copy & the fact i can't seem to rotate it!)
xx
humble gardener and mama b
but your aspect you're stuck with.
ours is northerly, which down south, is good.
that established, we ask ourselves: who is going to use the garden, and how?
the citizens of the rara republic all have varying needs and desires. as do their guests and other creatures who visit this garden on their daily forage. calix has a little trike and would dearly love somewhere flat to ride it. he's also into moving small parcels of soil around the garden, diggin and raking. so he needs to have a little patch all of his own- somewhere in a little bit of shade, but sunny enough where he can grow something. papa imagines long summer evenings grilling meat in the garden. he also quite fancies the idea of picking fresh veges to make a salad, but he doesn't want to be a slave to the garden. mama wants to garden. after years of gardening for other people this is her chance to plant something other than an annual and be around to see its fruit. she imagines plenty of herbs to make tissanes for her family, sweet organic veges, and plenty of little spots to sit and contemplate. the chickens, as former forest dwellers, need a tree, some shade, a bit of space, some dust and plenty of food and in return they give us eggs and a beautifully blended organic fertilizer.
the next question you need to give a lot of thought is: how much time do i have to spend in my garden? because despite popular belief, there is no such thing as a low maintenance garden, unless you're talking about a piece of concrete.
my mind's eye recalls many images of my mum in the garden. the hairdos vary according to the decade, but she was always on hand and knee, seemingly in prayer. for her, 8 hours a week in the garden was a religion, she did it more frequently than she went to church. but for me, as a child, working in the garden was a chore. it wasn't until i was older, when i appreciated the importance of 'time to think' that i appreciated the dull monotony of gardening. because that's what it seems- weeding, raking, wandering backwards and forwards behind a mower.... for me, now it's zen. i clear my head of clutter and concentrate on the task. and after a very small while i am calm. but wind the clock back several years and i'd be cursing that broom and dreaming of using it like a pony, galloping off with my mates...
once you've catered to everyone's needs, finally you can down to the nitty gritty of pen to paper.
gardens are filled with symbolism, as we use shapes that are found within nature to worship and admire. as gardeners we are all part-time pagans- worshiping the sun, following the seasons; and at the bottom of every garden you'll find at least one faerie (if you look hard enough). as a designer i like putting pen to paper, then crayon or watercolour as i wander the many paths in my mind for inspiration. other people need to see the shape on the land. one method my mum swears by (and my mum is a very able and creative gardener) is laying a garden hose on the ground and moving it about until the bed's shape materialises before your eyes. more often than not, you'll find your garden beds' shapes take the form of the spiral (or a part of it), a powerful symbol repeated constantly in nature and reverred for centuries. or perhaps, if you're a more formal person, you'd like straight lines and sharp angles. or, if you're a bit like me, you like to dip your toes in both ponds and combine all of nature's simple geometry.
when creating a garden bed it's best to not make the bed any deeper than 60cm (a comfortable reach). or, if you can access it from both sides, 120cm. this avoids having to step on the soil and risk damaging the soil structure. of course, if you fancy digging to alleviate the compaction, by all means, make those beds as deep as you fancy! but sometimes, you just can't avoid it. so don't worry so much. your garden is going to be a thing of beauty and sometimes beauty beats practicality in the paper/rock/scissors war of design.
when creating our garden i knew the shapes i wanted to incorporate. my list of specifications were quite stringent. in the area closest the house i wanted to use spirals to symbolise the sea's waves unfolding. it needed to be paved because, as an area of high traffic it needs to stand up to long winter rainy periods, and many dancing summer feet... also, as it's where our outdoor kitchen is going to be, all the culinary herbs of the mediterranean will be growing 'wild', scattered about. in maori culture the spiral, or koru, symbolises newness, birth and development.
in the other half, the 'vege' garden, i wanted to combine the essence of the french potager with the principals of permaculture: 4 raised beds (to allow for crop rotation) alligned for points of the compass (which also represent the elements, earth, fire, air and water) encircled to create a safe and nurturing environment.
we wanted fruit, plenty of it. so the obvious solution was to create espalier, the ancient art of pruning trees to grow along a flat surface. this way we could accomodate our apricot, apples, pear and nectarine.
honouring the wild aspect and wishing to create a whole ecosystem we've chosen species of plants that encourage preditory insects into the garden, letting nature take care of itself.
we've also chosen heirloom vegetables, the seed collected by hand and passed on through the generations.
have i painted the picture yet? have you painted your own?
(please excuse shoddy copy & the fact i can't seem to rotate it!)
xx
humble gardener and mama b
11.8.09
how to make a garden (part 1)
when you're making a garden the first thing you need to do is to set aside a little time to dream. you need to imagine those long lovely days of summer: sharing your early morning tranquility with the birds, finding a precious piece of midday shade to dine in, sipping drinks at sunset with your friends.... whatever it is you want from your garden it's best you've spent a long time dreaming about it because despite what you might see on the telly, good gardens don't arrive over night. a good garden will continue to evolve over a series of years- centuries even; but a good garden's bones will have been planned before even the first spade cut the soil.
ideally, you need to pass a full set of the seasons in your garden so you can feel exactly how it is, and how it will be, once you create your dream garden. the sun's hasty winter journey across your yard will cast long shadows, and areas that are in full sun in the summer may not see the sun at all for 2 months in the depths of winter.
however, some of us don't have the luxury of a spare year of contemplation.
but before you jump in, boots and all, you need to know a few things about your land- be it a pocket handkerchief or a good kiwi quarter acre.
ask you garden a few questions: what's your soil like? you can make an easy assessment of this by looking at the species of plants that make up your lawn. in our case, i spotted some docks and buttercups growing that told me that that patch would be very wet in the winter. the fact that our grass remained green all summer long despite no watering told me without digging that the water table was very high. (in our neck of the woods, this is a blessing)
soil assessed, you need to see what's growing in your neighbours' gardens. this will let you know what your climate is like. there is no point planting all sorts of tropical whatsitsnames if you're constantly battling thick white frosts every winter morning.
what direction does your garden face? lots of sun? prevailing winds?
these last 3 questions are in fact much more important than the first one of soil type as your soil type can be ammended to suit the things you want to grow.
you can't change the aspect of your garden.
in our case, our garden soil is quite rich, more acidic than alkiline, free-draining, north facing but sheltered from the prevailing easterly wind. it's longer than it is wide. and mostly, it was a blank canvas.
so while i spent a lot of last summer moving that purpular carpet from one patch to the other, i observed how we used the garden. how far did the shade go from the pine tree? was it unbearably hot at midday? (would we need more shade?) where did the sun set? which line did we take while walking from the house to the garage? believe it or not, this is important too, because while you might be prepared to take an extra moment and regard it as recreational, most other people will take that short-cut through your garden, unless you create a firm barrier.
we'd not managed a full set of seasons before we leapt into our garden filled with enthusiasm. from years of gardening i knew how dangerous it was to take this shortcut, but my experience as a designer allowed me to take the plunge anyway. so far, i have no regrets!
in part 2 of how to make a garden i'll share with you how we came up with the plan and our work programme.
xx
gardener b
ideally, you need to pass a full set of the seasons in your garden so you can feel exactly how it is, and how it will be, once you create your dream garden. the sun's hasty winter journey across your yard will cast long shadows, and areas that are in full sun in the summer may not see the sun at all for 2 months in the depths of winter.
however, some of us don't have the luxury of a spare year of contemplation.
but before you jump in, boots and all, you need to know a few things about your land- be it a pocket handkerchief or a good kiwi quarter acre.
ask you garden a few questions: what's your soil like? you can make an easy assessment of this by looking at the species of plants that make up your lawn. in our case, i spotted some docks and buttercups growing that told me that that patch would be very wet in the winter. the fact that our grass remained green all summer long despite no watering told me without digging that the water table was very high. (in our neck of the woods, this is a blessing)
soil assessed, you need to see what's growing in your neighbours' gardens. this will let you know what your climate is like. there is no point planting all sorts of tropical whatsitsnames if you're constantly battling thick white frosts every winter morning.
what direction does your garden face? lots of sun? prevailing winds?
these last 3 questions are in fact much more important than the first one of soil type as your soil type can be ammended to suit the things you want to grow.
you can't change the aspect of your garden.
in our case, our garden soil is quite rich, more acidic than alkiline, free-draining, north facing but sheltered from the prevailing easterly wind. it's longer than it is wide. and mostly, it was a blank canvas.
so while i spent a lot of last summer moving that purpular carpet from one patch to the other, i observed how we used the garden. how far did the shade go from the pine tree? was it unbearably hot at midday? (would we need more shade?) where did the sun set? which line did we take while walking from the house to the garage? believe it or not, this is important too, because while you might be prepared to take an extra moment and regard it as recreational, most other people will take that short-cut through your garden, unless you create a firm barrier.
we'd not managed a full set of seasons before we leapt into our garden filled with enthusiasm. from years of gardening i knew how dangerous it was to take this shortcut, but my experience as a designer allowed me to take the plunge anyway. so far, i have no regrets!
in part 2 of how to make a garden i'll share with you how we came up with the plan and our work programme.
xx
gardener b
10.8.09
take one green rectangle
(counting on my fingers) six, seven, 8, almost nine months ago we moved the republic to its new headquarters. the garden was a neatly clipped green rectangle with a lemon tree, a pine tree, some silverbeet that were busy setting their wildness free and a straggly hypericum.
one of the first things we did, dad and i, when we got the keys to the house, was to rip out the hideous purple and brown 70s carpet and drag it into the garden. i cast evil looks at the loitering nettles and silverbeet and muttered 'i'll be back'.
the next day i was. fork in hand, i made sure those weeds knew who was boss. i then dragged the carpet on top of them to keep them subdued till i could really take care of them.
little by little, though, i peeled the carpet back and stealthily planted tomatoes, lettuce, courgette, corn, yams, and various other salad items.
but while i regarded the garden with one squinting eye i drew plans behind the other, for its magnificent transformation.
p and i spent many an evening discussing le jardin. i had been inspired, long ago, by french garden style in my first visit to paris in the spring: great long lines of pleached aesculus (horse chestnut), and the formality of versaille, along side items of folly. we were both impressed by many of the gardens we visited in the castle district of france- again, these gardens combined the classic formatilty of neatly clipped lines alongside colourfully arranged vegetables, fruit and herbs. these gardens were potager gardening on grand scales.
we wanted our garden to reflect the unique cultural blend of the republic's citizens and its postion by the sea. we also wanted to be nourished by our garden, both physically and spiritually. of course, our garden had to be organic and be as close to the principals of permaculture as we could manage.
for two former nomads (and a future one!) the putting down of roots is a very serious affair.
a list was devised and a plan soon worked itself onto paper, allowing for all of our gardeneering dreams: fruit, vegetables, herbs, a home for our chickens, somewhere to eat ourdoors, somewhere to dream outdoors, somewhere to bathe, to work, to meditate, to relax, to share, to play- to grow.
and now, dear friends, with spring perched, ready to pounce, we think we're nearly ready to welcome her.
i've not taken any photos of work in progress.
but instead, i shall try and paint a picture with a thousand words, and the load some pictures once spring has started to fill some of the gaps.
xx
gardener b
one of the first things we did, dad and i, when we got the keys to the house, was to rip out the hideous purple and brown 70s carpet and drag it into the garden. i cast evil looks at the loitering nettles and silverbeet and muttered 'i'll be back'.
the next day i was. fork in hand, i made sure those weeds knew who was boss. i then dragged the carpet on top of them to keep them subdued till i could really take care of them.
little by little, though, i peeled the carpet back and stealthily planted tomatoes, lettuce, courgette, corn, yams, and various other salad items.
but while i regarded the garden with one squinting eye i drew plans behind the other, for its magnificent transformation.
p and i spent many an evening discussing le jardin. i had been inspired, long ago, by french garden style in my first visit to paris in the spring: great long lines of pleached aesculus (horse chestnut), and the formality of versaille, along side items of folly. we were both impressed by many of the gardens we visited in the castle district of france- again, these gardens combined the classic formatilty of neatly clipped lines alongside colourfully arranged vegetables, fruit and herbs. these gardens were potager gardening on grand scales.
we wanted our garden to reflect the unique cultural blend of the republic's citizens and its postion by the sea. we also wanted to be nourished by our garden, both physically and spiritually. of course, our garden had to be organic and be as close to the principals of permaculture as we could manage.
for two former nomads (and a future one!) the putting down of roots is a very serious affair.
a list was devised and a plan soon worked itself onto paper, allowing for all of our gardeneering dreams: fruit, vegetables, herbs, a home for our chickens, somewhere to eat ourdoors, somewhere to dream outdoors, somewhere to bathe, to work, to meditate, to relax, to share, to play- to grow.
and now, dear friends, with spring perched, ready to pounce, we think we're nearly ready to welcome her.
i've not taken any photos of work in progress.
but instead, i shall try and paint a picture with a thousand words, and the load some pictures once spring has started to fill some of the gaps.
xx
gardener b
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