tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77973961200877291562024-03-15T05:48:49.785+11:00Garden amateurJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.comBlogger747125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-63249388183326935272023-11-21T08:17:00.005+11:002023-11-21T08:52:52.697+11:00Front garden makeover update<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There's a lot to be said for rainy mornings. For one thing it means the gardener gets the morning off from hose-pointing duties, as Huey the rain god turns on the heavenly sprinklers for a few minutes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so it was this morning, but in addition to thanking Huey for the favour, I was reminded yet again that the best thing about rainy mornings is how nice gardens look when they are wet. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This November morning I enjoyed the perfect type of rainy morning: showers. So it rains for a few minutes then it stops raining. That means you can go outside and not get wet but you can enjoy the garden, maybe even take a few photos of something that catches your eye. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So here we are in Garden Amateur blog land, checking out the latest photos of our front garden makeover. Lots of unexpected flowers, lots of colour and lots of pleasing progress. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-f5mpKJTT7ZK93dcqzw_iaoc2jUCjnmI0WMOwS_bm8Dmnr5y3ztiLIR38QjqHQJ04RQcCB78j4btyLgTEs37g3os05i_YkL3BHyj4IHdP7-95_z5H6CrshPgDUE4TkNkKdyiCkIwAHuNJqJPR5cTPDx2bciO6g1CnzxKGCkeVSrBR0FzphIszHVSC1c3/s850/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20A.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-f5mpKJTT7ZK93dcqzw_iaoc2jUCjnmI0WMOwS_bm8Dmnr5y3ztiLIR38QjqHQJ04RQcCB78j4btyLgTEs37g3os05i_YkL3BHyj4IHdP7-95_z5H6CrshPgDUE4TkNkKdyiCkIwAHuNJqJPR5cTPDx2bciO6g1CnzxKGCkeVSrBR0FzphIszHVSC1c3/w400-h400/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20A.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the foreground, the creeping thyme plants are spreading rapidly and joining up. It's hard to know how far apart to plant them, as "online research" only confuses you with all the options. Some say 60cm apart, others 80cm, a few say 100cm, the full metre. I chose 80cm, and as the plants are already joining up, I should have gone for the metre!</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; text-align: left;"><br /></i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67cwg3jfr0I6VWxohX5imxJ1EwMo51TARaZV8VpUKbM6EIrzW8RUrmSiSDAE1L8E0ML3PneF-lLpTAfEGeiKvE-CfGdRzCtDeU0_XWL0IJJ9z7jW1Ek2pC4ZHRt_WUknmnENzppvnGGsHut7RQOolxVL1zWI3KB-Kznh4Blnk7jg5MgIROWjIJObMOyQc/s850/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20B.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67cwg3jfr0I6VWxohX5imxJ1EwMo51TARaZV8VpUKbM6EIrzW8RUrmSiSDAE1L8E0ML3PneF-lLpTAfEGeiKvE-CfGdRzCtDeU0_XWL0IJJ9z7jW1Ek2pC4ZHRt_WUknmnENzppvnGGsHut7RQOolxVL1zWI3KB-Kznh4Blnk7jg5MgIROWjIJObMOyQc/w400-h400/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20B.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>There are three varieties of creeping thyme in the garden. Of them, the "common" creeping thyme (8 plants) is flowering its head off very nicely, while the other two varieties are growing well but showing no signs of flowers. I'm happy to let the mystery be on that one.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYtP7fULBKH8QDhJOR3CAyyWSiK4SSf-nD6OVpNIYOTCTwaN8VjXFJrE6EJUW9_Iva0xLVWG0Bn3j45DttrJzZwfzldsgjZljJ_LdcUq1aB9krnK7q5JVTocGGQGjQP2hXpAak4emZMq_FUNQbQvmWurL4nacPa_KbENzsazyeEGajoX5L3CQk5lBwxfo/s850/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20C.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYtP7fULBKH8QDhJOR3CAyyWSiK4SSf-nD6OVpNIYOTCTwaN8VjXFJrE6EJUW9_Iva0xLVWG0Bn3j45DttrJzZwfzldsgjZljJ_LdcUq1aB9krnK7q5JVTocGGQGjQP2hXpAak4emZMq_FUNQbQvmWurL4nacPa_KbENzsazyeEGajoX5L3CQk5lBwxfo/w300-h400/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20C.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By far the star of the show at the moment is the Australian native violets, Viola hederacea. These are remnants of the old front garden, where they thrived in the shade of the wattles and ferns. Impossible to dig out or control, they have merrily spread themselves throughout the new garden and are flowering so prettily. A very unscientific straw poll of comments by neighbours passing by agrees that the native violets look wonderfully pretty, and that the mauve creeping thyme flowers are the perfect complement to the native violets' white & purple blooms. I didn't plan it that way, honest. Just a happy accident.</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; text-align: left;"><br /></i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOx6fe58MLq33_oNU6Xr4N_oRHPV8RLn1ScUu9uciuJ9sDdOqFgz9uNRvqrIVlLxzFbbbsVlYaL1xMskXVuO7M3BBecNOYcd7qifLUNRa2FVXIMGqbGIElElwEZIWK2PkwuGxe26l9o97jRpyEkJhqIvjD_J2TC-IcQtbUASb9C0cgMa0l9k0yCjHeqtmN/s896/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20Gum%20blossom%20babies.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="896" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOx6fe58MLq33_oNU6Xr4N_oRHPV8RLn1ScUu9uciuJ9sDdOqFgz9uNRvqrIVlLxzFbbbsVlYaL1xMskXVuO7M3BBecNOYcd7qifLUNRa2FVXIMGqbGIElElwEZIWK2PkwuGxe26l9o97jRpyEkJhqIvjD_J2TC-IcQtbUASb9C0cgMa0l9k0yCjHeqtmN/s320/Front%20garden%20Nov%2021%20Gum%20blossom%20babies.jpg" width="304" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Wait till the neighbours see the orange-blossomed dwarf gum tree spring into bloom this summer! The healthy little thing is covered in several of these missile clusters ready for launch. This is one of "Pam's plants" that are highlights in our garden. With certain plants she makes "I want one" style comments and I am happy to oblige. In the back garden Pam's plants include frangipanis, flannel flowers, Spanish moss galore and a white hydrangea – happily all doing well – and now out the front there's a dazzling dwarf gum tree to entertain passers-by. </span></i></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So that's it, the front garden makeover is looking great right now. The harsh reality of a hot and humid Sydney summer lies ahead, but right now in a warm, moist yet sunny spring in this lovely climate, gardening seems, dare I say it, almost easy.</span></p><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-33901086121970929562023-10-13T11:53:00.002+11:002023-10-14T15:43:45.637+11:00Front Garden Makeover Time!<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Let's see ... my last posting here at Garden Amateur was News Year's Day this year. So it's way overdue that I keep the old garden blog rolling along, and finally I have some news to report.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pammy and I are giving our front garden a major makeover — the first one since we redesigned the front garden way back in 2000.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">We're both very well, only slowly getting on in years but more importantly getting on in life quite rapidly, too. And we're enjoying our front and back gardens as much as ever. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our front garden was once a lovely thing, mostly native, but the main planting there had become huge, overgrown and was rapidly dying at the same time. So it was time for a major makeover: pull out everything, replace it with completely new plantings. Totally different look.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Let me show you some BEFORE photos, including the overgrown disaster, then we can settle in to show you our brand new, low maintenance garden makeover.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: georgia; font-size: x-large;"><b>BEFORE</b></span> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9YBoByvE8G3sSyxwnKaMzGtKkgKZ5VbvYCQCAKuBiIc0Iu-9sYYI5amxrtwiXLkgfu3AU7l-lTREgQ-IpPqsdIwgRlz9zrEnClBfZkFW5ZuUdNm0BatOJJeO7AxJsqMLzUTGTC16xP7UupDm6h8-6pbPPjIe6wf8zEPSiVtMj-pyLVwoeGosBsIqahgZ/s850/5%20A%20Front%20garden%20April%2009.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="569" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9YBoByvE8G3sSyxwnKaMzGtKkgKZ5VbvYCQCAKuBiIc0Iu-9sYYI5amxrtwiXLkgfu3AU7l-lTREgQ-IpPqsdIwgRlz9zrEnClBfZkFW5ZuUdNm0BatOJJeO7AxJsqMLzUTGTC16xP7UupDm6h8-6pbPPjIe6wf8zEPSiVtMj-pyLVwoeGosBsIqahgZ/w268-h400/5%20A%20Front%20garden%20April%2009.JPG" width="268" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">2009</span>, the front garden in its lovely heyday.<br />The bluey-green spillover plant is a Cootamundra Wattle<br />groundcover form. The grey centre planting is a native<br />Correa alba shrub, the little green hedge is native<br />lilly pilly 'Tiny Trev'. And there's a native yellow<br />gum (Eucalyptus leucoxylon 'Rosea') street tree<br />drooping in a branch top left. Many passers-by would<br />stop to ask what was what. We never imagined it<br />would grow so abundantly, but it was great while it lasted.</i></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lfedkliYAGKTZtzUlD4xOB7QHj69OURmSU1n95SCVRWJoG2_oa1LG_aQZfrwFT9psxUXlTCWILNY4wyQEOkQwHi1Oz2Y1zezLphu0SfDjtzQxdHjdcYWDo-MiX8Kk5wA3dsu9JWd67GSzGEbRkhyphenhyphentQa392VX_Uf8HqcHvlUyhcoN5y1x_XLpUB5Llfrw/s850/5%20B%20Front%20garden%20monster%202013.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="850" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lfedkliYAGKTZtzUlD4xOB7QHj69OURmSU1n95SCVRWJoG2_oa1LG_aQZfrwFT9psxUXlTCWILNY4wyQEOkQwHi1Oz2Y1zezLphu0SfDjtzQxdHjdcYWDo-MiX8Kk5wA3dsu9JWd67GSzGEbRkhyphenhyphentQa392VX_Uf8HqcHvlUyhcoN5y1x_XLpUB5Llfrw/w400-h268/5%20B%20Front%20garden%20monster%202013.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">2018</span>, and the Cootamundra wattle had taken over. The Correa alba<br />was dead, the Tiny Trev hedges were alive but almost invisible,<br />and my main job was to cut back the wattle to stop it accosting<br />innocent civilians walking by on the footpath.</i></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxikkhFsJjCTlw5RbF-8yO30X_d-qxlG1Q-IIYuHWBe2fhUm2VmBeMAhRhrIYCn7XjWP0Gkmp7x0PWhFlGqTupTfGFuZLEixCCD6hkT8alBi0oZ6wfkgJdJdZruI6fuTYskqyKEp_08ohkjMbYN7yZtqhz21L08sNaa7SSKDFkTpXk5Ohp4_uJO1Nme4Yh/s850/5%20C%20After%20clearance%20July%202023.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="636" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxikkhFsJjCTlw5RbF-8yO30X_d-qxlG1Q-IIYuHWBe2fhUm2VmBeMAhRhrIYCn7XjWP0Gkmp7x0PWhFlGqTupTfGFuZLEixCCD6hkT8alBi0oZ6wfkgJdJdZruI6fuTYskqyKEp_08ohkjMbYN7yZtqhz21L08sNaa7SSKDFkTpXk5Ohp4_uJO1Nme4Yh/w299-h400/5%20C%20After%20clearance%20July%202023.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">2023</span>, it had all got too much for me, so we hired the wonderful<br />Howie from <a href="https://www.glhs.com.au/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">GetUp Gardening and Landscaping Services</span></a><span style="color: #6aa84f;">,</span> an<br />inner-west Sydney gardening guy I found online, to come in<br />and remove everything. Howie did it all single-handedly in a<br />day and a half, and I chose him because (a) I liked him and (b) <br />his quote was very competitively priced. <br /><br />After Howie cleared everything away, our front garden looked twice<br />as big, and it was time for me to get out of my armchair and do<br />some proper gardening.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">AFTER</span></b></span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZoGaAXRTz8cnRriU7o7ezZNXapOlSwxbcMVd_tPQ2QdMszFQEW6RPxk3rmGHDkSc6UoxvBKMnDLDHrfkNfcjUMBeqP26bR7_FqxcJRcl_04ar5QFFKsBpGYA26MrKeZ4tKjQiyT_j3ao6mIorSs2Jmz-lSJR6g1kosgLAcwAYwJAeW0WveLKsYX0wJ20/s709/1%20Planted%20out%20Oct%2013%20A.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="709" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZoGaAXRTz8cnRriU7o7ezZNXapOlSwxbcMVd_tPQ2QdMszFQEW6RPxk3rmGHDkSc6UoxvBKMnDLDHrfkNfcjUMBeqP26bR7_FqxcJRcl_04ar5QFFKsBpGYA26MrKeZ4tKjQiyT_j3ao6mIorSs2Jmz-lSJR6g1kosgLAcwAYwJAeW0WveLKsYX0wJ20/w400-h300/1%20Planted%20out%20Oct%2013%20A.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Looks kinda bare, doesn't it? That's how it works with garden<br />makeovers: all the gaps between plants look too far apart, but<br />I am hoping my research is right, and everything will grow over<br />the next two years to cover the garden with foliage and colour.</span></i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cOtD0sNaJw2eepUAWM3pAkJ-B1mzP2LpT6iTAo4N_U9vIXVQSDqguebaIJRKZAVwp0ybGvhHTZjpzajFzOpSV3u_jVx38zFqwwWAlo0xUMCPW6Sh6rRDOsEdDOFOnMDR1Yug3fZx_2dFpOWkDgw1IHzrFkwh4mW-xxUs8apb1NyHTfYkWMtB2NRxJHlL/s709/2%20From%20front%20fence%201.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="709" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cOtD0sNaJw2eepUAWM3pAkJ-B1mzP2LpT6iTAo4N_U9vIXVQSDqguebaIJRKZAVwp0ybGvhHTZjpzajFzOpSV3u_jVx38zFqwwWAlo0xUMCPW6Sh6rRDOsEdDOFOnMDR1Yug3fZx_2dFpOWkDgw1IHzrFkwh4mW-xxUs8apb1NyHTfYkWMtB2NRxJHlL/w400-h300/2%20From%20front%20fence%201.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Right now, the main attraction is the coloured redwood mulch,<br />the same mulch we started with back in 2000.</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd1kHCrQu0OQ4Sx3PLTjefJawHHmv12hcW4o1G7MxEJpPn7M6KYKSjTDK8eMn42mY-28fGmyEasVrt19TYWnvRt6M3NAXWqx8wzS9h1dGQlvaJHKOZQiR6Gua5g2lus9mDXy5mrgRFYIRWntHwjGz1CDqPE5reqPdBY4C0_CzRS5p8fscWhzcr9YO8HNf/s709/2%20From%20porch%20chair%201.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="709" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd1kHCrQu0OQ4Sx3PLTjefJawHHmv12hcW4o1G7MxEJpPn7M6KYKSjTDK8eMn42mY-28fGmyEasVrt19TYWnvRt6M3NAXWqx8wzS9h1dGQlvaJHKOZQiR6Gua5g2lus9mDXy5mrgRFYIRWntHwjGz1CDqPE5reqPdBY4C0_CzRS5p8fscWhzcr9YO8HNf/w400-h300/2%20From%20porch%20chair%201.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The planting plan is simple. A row of Camellias at the back,<br />in the shady area right next to the house. There's a single dwarf<br />gum tree in the middle, and everywhere else will be low, spreading<br />groundcovers that I am hoping will spread and join up to form<br />a low-growing, low-maintenance alternative to lawn.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_aE5-VD5gnQvHoCytpkF1kflpnq3arLRnolYgd9X8L1trH3Xj_a3idclxhtYZhyphenhyphen1sfDdTi6U-h9L6-07rVrnoPjbqRtbtrYak98BT0ayGMffc0GTENPFHDw-1wUfHZGBbxrCqaLezidc0Q25XdAHseGwW76YHHNiXydihEmddhz3OHXZHUxgFfnMjhLb/s709/3%20Camellia%20Yuletide.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="531" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_aE5-VD5gnQvHoCytpkF1kflpnq3arLRnolYgd9X8L1trH3Xj_a3idclxhtYZhyphenhyphen1sfDdTi6U-h9L6-07rVrnoPjbqRtbtrYak98BT0ayGMffc0GTENPFHDw-1wUfHZGBbxrCqaLezidc0Q25XdAHseGwW76YHHNiXydihEmddhz3OHXZHUxgFfnMjhLb/w300-h400/3%20Camellia%20Yuletide.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The Camellias are the 'Yuletide' variety, with single<br />red blooms featuring a big, bold boss of yellow stamens.<br />They're a low-growing hedging type that should flower<br />in autumn and early winter. They're in a tough spot<br />that is shaded entirely by the house in full-on winter<br />months of June to August, but they also get blasted<br />by the afternoon sun in summer. There's no guarantee<br />they will work here, but they're my plan A, and I'll<br />think up plan B only if I have to.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCy_YxuGBukaD2fJJEFzi_jFJNn18_RaLL9KZyLPEfemkyhqyjkrexuwuQ4F0FIeNMyWz258MOr5J3U5owA2POmMIqyHxiD6Gtd1QUCU6uV5KVetL9rPcWPrRiEqENB4aaKzBZHJuP6PBcXgn4GAS-_gOiMVEj40IAD6VDcfgeOKdg0mBXszT4gs4b_Aep/s709/3%20Corsican%20mint.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="709" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCy_YxuGBukaD2fJJEFzi_jFJNn18_RaLL9KZyLPEfemkyhqyjkrexuwuQ4F0FIeNMyWz258MOr5J3U5owA2POmMIqyHxiD6Gtd1QUCU6uV5KVetL9rPcWPrRiEqENB4aaKzBZHJuP6PBcXgn4GAS-_gOiMVEj40IAD6VDcfgeOKdg0mBXszT4gs4b_Aep/w400-h353/3%20Corsican%20mint.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The tiny-leaved groundcover is Corsican mint, which is planted<br />close to the camellias in the shadier zone.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8OsHnjRNPr5NKbKj__oJS3UTEJbv_AtVpuXsLZCJMcbbw3gC8VLWxqfOYwh9StFw2ZE8fyzF_TbZ0pqCM1hXc2axZoHOvmoWaDp3HFxRPDnh_xgMIPV-MYXBjvgy41wxFecp0T_XbMgKA1nCsrbOe2Q-5jga_xV2riaB10KJw8ewy6PturNbscq0sxzy/s709/3%20Corymbia%20Dwarf%20Orange%20Label.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="531" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8OsHnjRNPr5NKbKj__oJS3UTEJbv_AtVpuXsLZCJMcbbw3gC8VLWxqfOYwh9StFw2ZE8fyzF_TbZ0pqCM1hXc2axZoHOvmoWaDp3HFxRPDnh_xgMIPV-MYXBjvgy41wxFecp0T_XbMgKA1nCsrbOe2Q-5jga_xV2riaB10KJw8ewy6PturNbscq0sxzy/w300-h400/3%20Corymbia%20Dwarf%20Orange%20Label.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Pam had her heart set on an orange-flowered dwarf<br />gum tree, and it took us a while to find one. They're<br />a popular plant in Sydney and sell quickly, and so we<br />waited until new stock arrived at <a href="https://www.sydneywildflowernursery.com.au/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Sydney Wildflower<br />Nursery</span></a> in Heathcote, a great source of native plants<br />in the Sydney region.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKcyOHTVwYQzonKU9LdkoxyJP8e2cdGB7_9ijKq89po55-oFpAcmihmmeXomEswXCOEaKkyPvaPSxZ7mzSLyqVwGRRm0b3etW3luEpLs9WoJP2Ivdi1DnRCur8JvFfZ2TRSvfu9LDs0RtN0XeiS9kn8ZYpnccCvQBEs4aoZBVt6pv1pLGPKnG53hpocMM/s709/3%20Corymbia%20Dwarf%20Orange%20Planted%20Oct%2013.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKcyOHTVwYQzonKU9LdkoxyJP8e2cdGB7_9ijKq89po55-oFpAcmihmmeXomEswXCOEaKkyPvaPSxZ7mzSLyqVwGRRm0b3etW3luEpLs9WoJP2Ivdi1DnRCur8JvFfZ2TRSvfu9LDs0RtN0XeiS9kn8ZYpnccCvQBEs4aoZBVt6pv1pLGPKnG53hpocMM/w305-h400/3%20Corymbia%20Dwarf%20Orange%20Planted%20Oct%2013.jpg" width="305" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>It was only when the little gum tree went in, this morning,<br />that Pammy and I considered the makeover 'finished'.<br />The label says it could reach 4m x 4m, we are hoping it <br />goes no bigger than 3m x 3m, so we'll wait and see.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VaAIKb_o3ZbljAdzA8Hw78vRyh9dL20mxdVGR2Z2mYqMEOs3ITKE8HBF8Wb0Hoxlp5RrlqxyHNLOURI4KxdDQemlMICNd2ibscd43Dr5oGDh01RtenqJglohtnfRfoc5n2eDWurBp1KEaMesjK5wePGC4GAedGZkzl-pcHWdz9mTX-YodjD_1_ra7bn6/s709/3%20Creeping%20thyme%20close%20up.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="709" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VaAIKb_o3ZbljAdzA8Hw78vRyh9dL20mxdVGR2Z2mYqMEOs3ITKE8HBF8Wb0Hoxlp5RrlqxyHNLOURI4KxdDQemlMICNd2ibscd43Dr5oGDh01RtenqJglohtnfRfoc5n2eDWurBp1KEaMesjK5wePGC4GAedGZkzl-pcHWdz9mTX-YodjD_1_ra7bn6/w400-h366/3%20Creeping%20thyme%20close%20up.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Creeping thyme is the main groundcover planted. There are<br />three varieties with different flower colours. This is the 'ordinary'<br />creeping thyme, with pinky-purple flowers, and it's showing a<br />few blooms already. There's also a crimson form, and another<br />called 'Bergamot' with more strongly purple flowers.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXZbqXSEjqEvZRIL22JKviTl39WwHzTH7a5fb0AW9_92nGYaY5mOM6Aeqfe1vjGWYhDxtIN1lDs1AZSe_OrVMwvSE_AuvCzuGd8nYu3U7-6lAVTrKn0tWUGrV85MYIQblKEHazTDlHABr2dsUvys4dOQCC3q9Jdmh9iOuLzjrkqqu0pf4zgzw2-JQStiJ/s600/3%20Dwarf%20Gum%20Baby%20Orange.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="600" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXZbqXSEjqEvZRIL22JKviTl39WwHzTH7a5fb0AW9_92nGYaY5mOM6Aeqfe1vjGWYhDxtIN1lDs1AZSe_OrVMwvSE_AuvCzuGd8nYu3U7-6lAVTrKn0tWUGrV85MYIQblKEHazTDlHABr2dsUvys4dOQCC3q9Jdmh9iOuLzjrkqqu0pf4zgzw2-JQStiJ/w400-h399/3%20Dwarf%20Gum%20Baby%20Orange.PNG" width="400" /></a></div></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Speaking of flowers, this is a photo of the dwarf gum in full glory,<br />downloaded from a retail nursery website. We'll be pleased if<br />ours looks this spectacular over coming summers.</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rmq2cddidyC37mHaKN5g-yhqwinsF_wB7yfGK02xSAx1tzMrMTmX0fPCGtxcKel5JJW1hs2R-wLYu9pIYltSM5a4iZP-hLJSs6HiEp5DkdnvVf00AaqwqhZvVr1TMSdW-ZdM8Pv8QlYMt8-xDfnUdulMzdu5mfKPwnt7DbWLBTumBuKKApPWHUgNOGT6/s709/4%20native%20violets%203.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="531" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rmq2cddidyC37mHaKN5g-yhqwinsF_wB7yfGK02xSAx1tzMrMTmX0fPCGtxcKel5JJW1hs2R-wLYu9pIYltSM5a4iZP-hLJSs6HiEp5DkdnvVf00AaqwqhZvVr1TMSdW-ZdM8Pv8QlYMt8-xDfnUdulMzdu5mfKPwnt7DbWLBTumBuKKApPWHUgNOGT6/w300-h400/4%20native%20violets%203.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>And you undoubtedly have noticed little spots of green<br />here and there popping up among the red mulch. Our old<br />garden was home to several very annoying weeds, and<br />I am taking on the mighty task of hand-pulling out all <br />types, except one. Native violets.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We're keeping the native violets partly because they fit into the planting scheme of low-growing groundcovers, but also because it's just impossible to control native violets by hand weeding. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As we are heading into a tough El Nino summer here, the hot dry weather will probably prove to be the native violets' nemesis. In the meantime they are growing vigorously, just as these pictured </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">weedy ones on our side concrete path are doing this morning.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">And until next time, when I have some other gardening news to report to you, I hope this blog update finds you all well and happy and enjoying your time in the garden.</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's hardly a happy time in the world at large right now. It's terrible in so many places, in fact. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">But that is why my garden is so precious to me. Of all the places in the world I could be in at the moment, I am where I want to be, at home in my garden.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Best wishes to you all.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jamie<br /><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-78025622302087023172023-01-01T09:50:00.004+11:002023-01-02T06:42:49.520+11:00Happy New Year!<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Happy New Year everyone, wishing all gardeners, readers and online passers-by the very best for 2023. May it be a much, much better year than the one just finishing.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMLhKOwfnCSZgDEwTsmtgUVynD-u3vU21qCK_NZ788WGFYWIsLoftojOZ1_q1PpLzlYC9NVp79svVMuwgHDypUCRcuPoyu01LZg9Urf2_kQIiX3kkCzXp6IBDhSCOZWPmlRIdHtviSmbAVg3zD3VcMeV83K6GgBubVo2nZw07bjKFe2dmxX9ebmdrqw/s850/Frangipani%20Serendipity.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMLhKOwfnCSZgDEwTsmtgUVynD-u3vU21qCK_NZ788WGFYWIsLoftojOZ1_q1PpLzlYC9NVp79svVMuwgHDypUCRcuPoyu01LZg9Urf2_kQIiX3kkCzXp6IBDhSCOZWPmlRIdHtviSmbAVg3zD3VcMeV83K6GgBubVo2nZw07bjKFe2dmxX9ebmdrqw/w400-h400/Frangipani%20Serendipity.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br />Frangipani 'Serendipity' is enjoying the late arrival of the Sydney summer.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's been quite a long time since I posted anything here at 'Garden Amateur' (more than a year in fact), and over the course of 2022 I am pleased to say that a lot has happened in our garden, but nothing much has changed, either.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">For this Happy New Year posting I was going to include some more photos of the most eye-catching plants in our December 2022 garden, but when I checked on the previous photos from my last update from November 2021, they were almost identical, so just one photo this time, of our very colourful frangipani. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And that's when I realised nothing important has changed here. It's still full of colour and all the key plantings seem to be healthy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The good news is that Pam and I are just like our plants: still healthy. Somehow we've managed to dodge the Covid virus and are enjoying the good but quiet life. I am such a homebody that "staying at home" is my preferred lifestyle option, anyway. Pam's much more social than me, and she's enjoying having restrictions lifted a bit. But homebody me? I'm happy in my garden and my kitchen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our major news this year is the sad passing of Pam's lovely 93-year-old mother, Val, who slipped away peacefully in her sleep back in July. How we all would like to go after a good and very long innings.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Val was a truly green-thumbed gardener of the old school, who could snip off a cutting of almost anything and have it thriving in a pot three months later. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Val had often said that she wanted to be buried in our garden as she loved being here. I think she was serious, because she didn't like it much when we explained that the authorities might not be so keen on that idea. So we've found a nice place for her to spend a well-deserved eternity of peaceful rest at a proper lawn cemetery that has lots of lawn and native trees nearby.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-20365566001102949172021-11-19T10:07:00.000+11:002021-11-19T10:07:08.097+11:00Looking good<p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">While my enthusiasm for garden blogging might be on the wane, the opposite is true for gardening itself. I've never enjoyed it more. Perhaps the blogging has been getting in the way of my enjoyment of gardening? In recent years I suspect so, hence very little activity here on the Garden Amateur blog.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So here's a rare posting on how things are going here in spring. I may post something during summer, but right now in spring there is almost too much to talk about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The one thought that hit me the other day as I was admiring all the flowers and crops is how spring makes you feel like you're a better gardener than you probably really are. Everything grows so well, it all seems so easy. Plant something new and whoosh! It races away like happy children in the park.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Summer in Sydney, however, brings you back to earth with a thud. The humidity, the heat, the sheer difficulty of helping everything to merely survive is hardly a joyful pursuit — it's an important part of the gardening year of course — but gardening here in spring is a much more wonderful time to be out there among all the plants. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Encouraging little garden sprites whisper in your ear "Hey, you can do this!" and "That worked well" as you tour the flower and vegie beds. It's good for your soul to be out there soaking up the success. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, here's my usual little 'photos with captions' essay on what's happening here now. It's very pretty, a lot of fun, and I sometimes wish spring would last forever. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6l1TGEjP9iX64Dg2zajVd4XE0LM_b4NPO4g_4Xtt5d8DjjTUIF0dwlmm7ah1NSCPKypt7qa8qWggizVacE0Xwyfz4MF5XKoNG7e2OsUxT-00LAggo2r0F4SqTMgfvT0eYgxS16wkmPerYMy6AKVlR5qibsHG925laC9PzreWBNIHCy2V-KnfyucHAHg=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6l1TGEjP9iX64Dg2zajVd4XE0LM_b4NPO4g_4Xtt5d8DjjTUIF0dwlmm7ah1NSCPKypt7qa8qWggizVacE0Xwyfz4MF5XKoNG7e2OsUxT-00LAggo2r0F4SqTMgfvT0eYgxS16wkmPerYMy6AKVlR5qibsHG925laC9PzreWBNIHCy2V-KnfyucHAHg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The amazing Geranium Rozanne is getting bigger and better all the time. It started flowering its head off in midwinter when we bought it and has never let up. It's now spreading about three feet wide and rising two feet tall and it's covered in the prettiest purple flowers.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNWWJ3GvVk-4zBY7rv1xXqwV8mJPGQWniOSgdD07kfZ5SC9Sc3Ud2GgZN3AacDAyMAmPyq3tzFdfgHtOs53MFDwiwujp9E77xwlCP_plg8Zv9rygOtdNzfQt4-riL7tUKHN-eol1rhJAj_TI7SqVIkCPw_SFkqQPaTzQo-ImImuUWVF5zOJZD9Ke5dWw=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNWWJ3GvVk-4zBY7rv1xXqwV8mJPGQWniOSgdD07kfZ5SC9Sc3Ud2GgZN3AacDAyMAmPyq3tzFdfgHtOs53MFDwiwujp9E77xwlCP_plg8Zv9rygOtdNzfQt4-riL7tUKHN-eol1rhJAj_TI7SqVIkCPw_SFkqQPaTzQo-ImImuUWVF5zOJZD9Ke5dWw=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This feels like cheating, but I love it. All you need to do is buy a La Sevillana rose in flower from your garden centre, bring it home, whack it in a bigger pot and let it flower on. This is one of "Pam's plants". She saw it at a friend's house, loved the clear red colour, issued orders on what we needed next and a week later it was brightening up our pergola area. It's so lightly scented that you barely notice it at first, but I have never seen anyone admire a rose without sticking their nose into the centre. However, Pam being an artist with an eye for colour, this is definitely the rose she wanted.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRj74ub8LeuX-vxZF_-sOCbZiUfqFdY3_d8TbNiQ_lvYCXZdhg7Wf3z3Y9UG4yQsjee7v-sLJurDcFzJVHe5h-XRX_WBT4WpcC3tw8iGeXPuD_LwjH8DuzEQH4txem6XApeUrmQG_PoHmSPaMAAZWNeMfzgxJyFmwKAL-OmWwyyUBqITRRBt1oDd7Xew=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRj74ub8LeuX-vxZF_-sOCbZiUfqFdY3_d8TbNiQ_lvYCXZdhg7Wf3z3Y9UG4yQsjee7v-sLJurDcFzJVHe5h-XRX_WBT4WpcC3tw8iGeXPuD_LwjH8DuzEQH4txem6XApeUrmQG_PoHmSPaMAAZWNeMfzgxJyFmwKAL-OmWwyyUBqITRRBt1oDd7Xew=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is our society garlic, or Tulbaghia, in flower. Lots of variegated strappy leaves with these pink trumpet flower clusters on tall stems rising up. I admire its tenacity. All sorts of horrid weeds like to bully it but it never gives up and always shows up.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoT0ItKm81_D3MQ_c75B8raQLiTJtl2GCcfCYr0UCYaZusmeo5yIW0IXXjZ-S1N2VM2p4ds7BUNB4I2tPeG_Znc1J741AxUQk9j4cRmKxB6N0d0Zb_bHv6RokvrWmiYNsGvef-1C4TBaDT1mysbGipqBiXDgjrAfLFSd8vC-_dH8UqQt7XDeIyVHamzQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoT0ItKm81_D3MQ_c75B8raQLiTJtl2GCcfCYr0UCYaZusmeo5yIW0IXXjZ-S1N2VM2p4ds7BUNB4I2tPeG_Znc1J741AxUQk9j4cRmKxB6N0d0Zb_bHv6RokvrWmiYNsGvef-1C4TBaDT1mysbGipqBiXDgjrAfLFSd8vC-_dH8UqQt7XDeIyVHamzQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Our potted New South Wales Christmas Bush is getting better at timing its display of coloured bracts for the festive season</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcppfrtJI2SVXSfNwkAq3dXnIMiyXwL8jD2D65oPgtiDNVl_pnwVSf9tuZ8vEBuk3IgvuTIKAdNAr1ViqO_KdzrsMYz_HwSNTOO2F_m9u_HCrh2E9tDLb33Y9SN4ZGfD-j-CMi4kUCbBl1mIZ0fyFeHBUDT4Eb5iTuAbpzIlP9Mic4g7u296GLAoXQOQ=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcppfrtJI2SVXSfNwkAq3dXnIMiyXwL8jD2D65oPgtiDNVl_pnwVSf9tuZ8vEBuk3IgvuTIKAdNAr1ViqO_KdzrsMYz_HwSNTOO2F_m9u_HCrh2E9tDLb33Y9SN4ZGfD-j-CMi4kUCbBl1mIZ0fyFeHBUDT4Eb5iTuAbpzIlP9Mic4g7u296GLAoXQOQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Boy, are we eating a lot of spinach and silver beet right now. Pam loves it Japanese style, chopped and steamed with a sesame dressing, and I love it Indian style, in dishes such as Palak Paneer and Chicken Palak. The golden rule with these prolific spring crops is that if you think you haven't planted enough, you've probably planted too much already.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiArVBhhS8PuvUDWpDUmxXlmXMdlNEduJ0-aUYfQqp5y6t0UUvEthRcBOctnEgcY1c-aJ_10PwC9Nvkhk4U13YGyW8LZ8Dtf0cuk5xI-XWTT3aeZ-ATQEvwsrO1FRmzFzQQiLUEmfnaMbxDEFTbhXGv41sp-g1X5lcL3K-1sC8Cx-c8RvNJiZSikt1fjQ=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiArVBhhS8PuvUDWpDUmxXlmXMdlNEduJ0-aUYfQqp5y6t0UUvEthRcBOctnEgcY1c-aJ_10PwC9Nvkhk4U13YGyW8LZ8Dtf0cuk5xI-XWTT3aeZ-ATQEvwsrO1FRmzFzQQiLUEmfnaMbxDEFTbhXGv41sp-g1X5lcL3K-1sC8Cx-c8RvNJiZSikt1fjQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Lettuce thrives in spring but soon gives up the will to live once summer comes around. Fortunately we're a little pair of salad munching bunnies, and Pammy also loves to make up egg and lettuce bread rolls for lunch.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGj3MYiabMXcP84Eyp-faRRLpBKFHNGrojZwi-JC7KkIk3KqPJ6T0MpqL_3pg6A5tAZ0mkC6blG6RnC_HbroRWIIL3cObDY8GeWLK9aHvLFbJ1yeLFnvGatpMvJ2ps-IZHhOkRZ_7wdKlzSyAnUgd4ywNqYKRuOxXPvfrbYr1qOLgNhVVEBbY3l9G3vQ=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGj3MYiabMXcP84Eyp-faRRLpBKFHNGrojZwi-JC7KkIk3KqPJ6T0MpqL_3pg6A5tAZ0mkC6blG6RnC_HbroRWIIL3cObDY8GeWLK9aHvLFbJ1yeLFnvGatpMvJ2ps-IZHhOkRZ_7wdKlzSyAnUgd4ywNqYKRuOxXPvfrbYr1qOLgNhVVEBbY3l9G3vQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I'm a sucker for multi-coloured bowls of salad greens, and so I find all seed packets of "mixed lettuce" to be irresistable. Here's another crop approaching harvest time.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj92XrHK-6EVA5-P8tUn9Ts-X18MxdcSKZ2Iiyreu5t94d-45vQZugVIcArk75W6KqHGBdgigQgb5IdwJsllO54ifcXcPP9NUYn1qLRXkp0p1svFvy-l8RQg6XSWM6woXbG3_MfBQ1XMrUBotbqsgCrZ6JtqX3x-BLciuWsLFqXbspr07MXe66sopKqUw=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj92XrHK-6EVA5-P8tUn9Ts-X18MxdcSKZ2Iiyreu5t94d-45vQZugVIcArk75W6KqHGBdgigQgb5IdwJsllO54ifcXcPP9NUYn1qLRXkp0p1svFvy-l8RQg6XSWM6woXbG3_MfBQ1XMrUBotbqsgCrZ6JtqX3x-BLciuWsLFqXbspr07MXe66sopKqUw=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>My other must-have crop in our garden is shallots, or green onions, or scallions, or whatever you call them in your part of the world. I'm still perfecting my skills at sowing enough — and especially not too many — seeds to raise the next punnet of seedlings while the current crop matures, but this is much more satisfying than buying a punnet of far too many shallot seedlings at the garden centre and only planting half of them.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2nTCQ9n6nrFKfq6IqhuU8hq6qWSfIpgDAKViPf9hO5WouIFEo2mUTLOF1v6ytOVaaMbOfENmJlPEmSrTtCwycDE5Cm75CKbzaDSqRF3BxCgVXCQkXBZCXxuhdUnP0DJjRaZbVdIvpZiJDHypceBCsdrRiqTwggnbYXLTdphq0f_ImpdLikAE5iX6kCA=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2nTCQ9n6nrFKfq6IqhuU8hq6qWSfIpgDAKViPf9hO5WouIFEo2mUTLOF1v6ytOVaaMbOfENmJlPEmSrTtCwycDE5Cm75CKbzaDSqRF3BxCgVXCQkXBZCXxuhdUnP0DJjRaZbVdIvpZiJDHypceBCsdrRiqTwggnbYXLTdphq0f_ImpdLikAE5iX6kCA=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Who me? Impulse-buy a Grosse Lisse tomato plant at the local Woolies supermarket? Yes, of course. Total sucker for growing tomatoes, with a very ordinary success rate on the big tomatoes, and a perfectly acceptable success rate on the cherry tomato front. So of course I am attempting to keep a big climbing tomato happy in spring. Summer will be the seasoning of reckoning, but I am prepared to take on the challenge.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDdu0TrGrVQJaQCyik0YVp_uwLUQ8bG6dv2FIGaw93rLffiy_jlE37dmSNcshtZLJNLUb0QZ2tFtzGxgcanYD_92KAtICSKG65TDuI08u8vNqBg6WASb9E9xBZSeEPLmYgTrWdNZcHDmb0Tg4IBD2469jPkuW4sFtHvuBmNMczsWuGLi2G__8Z1j2i9Q=s1417" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1417" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDdu0TrGrVQJaQCyik0YVp_uwLUQ8bG6dv2FIGaw93rLffiy_jlE37dmSNcshtZLJNLUb0QZ2tFtzGxgcanYD_92KAtICSKG65TDuI08u8vNqBg6WASb9E9xBZSeEPLmYgTrWdNZcHDmb0Tg4IBD2469jPkuW4sFtHvuBmNMczsWuGLi2G__8Z1j2i9Q=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>On the other hand, all the potted succulents are looking forward to summer's heat. Ever since I repotted them they are all loving the new potting mix. And though it's hard to see here, there's a very thick layer of pine bark mulch spread between the pots and all over the formerly weedy succulent patch, and for the meantime at least, the weeds are not enjoying life at all. They're probably biding their time, waiting for the mulch to break down, but right now the succulent patch is a peaceful village of potted contentment.<br /><br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So there you have it loyal readers, all 10 of you. Pammy and I are both really enjoying this year's spring in our garden. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pam's art students love wandering around and finding something to draw or paint, and for me as a gardener that's plenty of job satisfaction right there.</span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-4848537363918907942021-09-24T10:15:00.001+10:002021-09-24T10:19:32.242+10:00Small change, big difference<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">These YouTube videos are making a lazy blogger of me!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Yesterday, for reasons unrelated to gardening (ie, I was changing where I parked my motorcycle in the backyard) I ended up moving my potted Thai lime tree from the spot it has occupied for the last five years to a new spot just four or five feet away.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And this morning, when I stepped out into the backyard I was taking in a much more colourful, flower-filled view of Garden Amateur Land than I have ever enjoyed before. The spring flowers no doubt help, but moving a "blocker" from the foreground has worked wonders.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And the only thing that prevents me from changing my name from Garden Amateur to The Lazy Garden Blogger is that I am too lazy to make the change right now. It's sunny, 27°C, light winds, perfect picnic weather, and a 30-second video is all I can muster the energy for right now. </span></p><p><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/ihNpO2ohP0o" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/ihNpO2ohP0o</a></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HtCalKtg-E4Wu6S-Z4ysou-Gzf24dyUjcy-uOv8N13I5qzI0pGAf4RYlFfwyv01bta2mSjEGAHPAAUf1AGKSLTLLVOSebXQSeXgPh7uY6rBFgUGTO9lzqbLls5iOUqJ_pBevGGu-zLpw/s850/Garden+view+spring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HtCalKtg-E4Wu6S-Z4ysou-Gzf24dyUjcy-uOv8N13I5qzI0pGAf4RYlFfwyv01bta2mSjEGAHPAAUf1AGKSLTLLVOSebXQSeXgPh7uY6rBFgUGTO9lzqbLls5iOUqJ_pBevGGu-zLpw/w400-h300/Garden+view+spring.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-16839578935224196062021-09-20T09:42:00.000+10:002021-09-20T09:42:21.226+10:00The bare and the beautiful<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is no time of day to compare to the mornings in our garden. As you stand at the back door and look out, the low morning sun appears in the far right corner of the north-facing property and steadily lights up every plant as it rises.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">However, as an early riser who's often out there before the sunbeams appear, the truly best time to view it all is that gentle brief time between dawn and the moment the sun starts casting shadows. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That soft, low morning light allows the many different greens and the subtle greys to do their version of glowing, before old shiny guts appears over the fence and starts bleaching the light for the rest of the day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, early this morning was the ideal time to attempt my next video of the garden, and my focus this time was on the bare beauty of our two frangipani trees. They're all just branches right now. It'll be another couple of weeks, early October, before the leaves appear, followed by the fragrant flowers in November.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So for this next attempt at a low budget, iPhone video production, I've learned my lesson and will only post a link to the YouTube video, all 1 minute 19 seconds of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's where you click and watch the show: <a href="https://youtu.be/L0MDdvFZGAE"><span style="color: #cc0000;">https://youtu.be/L0MDdvFZGAE</span></a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meanwhile, here's a few photos of what to expect later this spring, plus as a special bonus for language lovers, one of my favourite pieces of wordy trivia.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8X67_UAhalNqC-ocOLBrJ5SrpSi2uG4uvn6M81RRia0OYEUsd4px355vW_fGdPju15GZldPEbDqBzmbKn9P9T5lCvdWz5MPIuMS1RYtDBJikKM2AZHJSe85oaEulx9KprbAGQXL9cSBAv/s850/1+Frangipani+flower+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8X67_UAhalNqC-ocOLBrJ5SrpSi2uG4uvn6M81RRia0OYEUsd4px355vW_fGdPju15GZldPEbDqBzmbKn9P9T5lCvdWz5MPIuMS1RYtDBJikKM2AZHJSe85oaEulx9KprbAGQXL9cSBAv/w400-h300/1+Frangipani+flower+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The 'big' tree grown from a cutting is the classic Sydney frangipani, the white one with the yellow centre. I love it.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuhEV-eB0DaF9FDG70H1wx7UOf0oZYfYFnDprgtbIANtBo-meGVrp5YTYB0AemAazwE9A9fCZgxsig7GotonlXcrmY9Y8EpdU7zPal8OyxGqxsujHaePdwyun67VuaCv1Di2tIPOgNLdP/s850/2+Frangipani+Serendipity+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuhEV-eB0DaF9FDG70H1wx7UOf0oZYfYFnDprgtbIANtBo-meGVrp5YTYB0AemAazwE9A9fCZgxsig7GotonlXcrmY9Y8EpdU7zPal8OyxGqxsujHaePdwyun67VuaCv1Di2tIPOgNLdP/w400-h300/2+Frangipani+Serendipity+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The smaller tree, also grown from a cutting supplied by a local art studio where Pam teaches, is a much more tropical looking, colourful piece of confectionery. I've called it Frangipani 'Serendipity' because it has been such a happy discovery.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj917s1k6xmLFhd7wpuXpg0Igj22lWQddV2LPhI008WMyTtS-a0hV7nmU8Yr8QrxIF4T8r5CiJGF77TRRyx22s1wYU2avJc5PAJp5hBDe2JhMjLIJge-F9IUhkFGILqnybsrzGV0k1KEBrV/s1417/3+Serendipity+OED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="829" data-original-width="1417" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj917s1k6xmLFhd7wpuXpg0Igj22lWQddV2LPhI008WMyTtS-a0hV7nmU8Yr8QrxIF4T8r5CiJGF77TRRyx22s1wYU2avJc5PAJp5hBDe2JhMjLIJge-F9IUhkFGILqnybsrzGV0k1KEBrV/w400-h234/3+Serendipity+OED.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>And now for my favourite piece of English language trivia. 'Serendipity' is an invented word, and we can almost trace it back to a specific day and date: January 28, 1754, in a letter written by Horace Walpole to a friend. Pictured above is the page from The Oxford English Dictionary's definition of Serendipity.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The word Serendip is the ancient Persian word for the beautiful island we know of today as Sri Lanka, and as Walpole explains in his letter, in the fairy tale 'The Three Princes of Serendip' the heroes were always making discoveries by accident, of things they were not in quest of. Happy accidental discoveries, if you will. And to describe that fortunate phenomenon, he invented the word 'serendipity'. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">What all this has to do with gardening is precisely nothing, other than for the fact that whenever I go out into the garden I don't always think about gardening.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Take yesterday morning as an example. There I was pulling out all the weeds growing around the base of my little tropical frangipani, and instead of contemplating the exacting business of pulling out weeds, I was thinking of dictionaries, writers, Sri Lanka and invented words. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And before I knew it the drudgery of weeding was over and it was time for a cup of tea.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-42354775530456447312021-09-18T11:39:00.002+10:002021-09-18T11:39:48.085+10:00Saturday cook up<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Way back in the good old days when the word "lockdown" was mostly used when reporting on the aftermath of prison riots, I loved the tradition of a big Saturday cook up – a more spectacular weekend meal where I'd go to a lot of trouble to make something nice.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Being a very enthusiastic but not especially skilful home cook, sometimes there'd be triumphs when everything turned out perfectly ... and other times there's be slight depressions and post mortems about where it all went wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so, despite our current existence taking on an imprisoned-at-home monotony of samey days that we all desperately wish to be over, I've decided to keep up a few weekend traditions, and that includes the Saturday cook up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A lot of locked-down people are reporting that their sleep patterns are totally weird, and I'm definitely in that category. It's nothing unusual for me to be awake at 3 or 4 in the morning, unable to sleep. So instead of lying in bed I get up and read, or in the case of this early Saturday morning, I get up and cook. Or, to be more specific, I get up and bake bread, just like proper professional bread bakers do every day of their working lives.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI61Hz7Od4IA4zFwgkU_4bsaC2_K0KmG1G2i0CEBhb1x6hx4PK_Cy5zTWOZqQfrXxS2nsGjC0JrN7m_R6knuQ8cZ2qiAgKWXfR5iVnXuyT8kZcUpbRCUDMTSBWft0rNKLi3tIoqNfPFQy1/s850/1+Today%2527s+sourdough+loaf.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI61Hz7Od4IA4zFwgkU_4bsaC2_K0KmG1G2i0CEBhb1x6hx4PK_Cy5zTWOZqQfrXxS2nsGjC0JrN7m_R6knuQ8cZ2qiAgKWXfR5iVnXuyT8kZcUpbRCUDMTSBWft0rNKLi3tIoqNfPFQy1/w400-h400/1+Today%2527s+sourdough+loaf.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>One thing I love to be is unfashionable. (You should see my wardrobe of plain check shirts!). In the 2020 edition of covid lockdowns, everyone was baking sourdough bread, it seemed at the time. So I was determined not be fashionable and take up the craze, even though I've always been fascinated by the idea of baking bread. This year, it seems bread baking is out of fashion, so this was my big chance to strike while the iron was cold! Here's this morning's sourdough loaf, which will be turned into toast on Sunday morning, and topped with scrambled eggs for Pammy.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArnn-C4kITX5K1OZ7CmPCMNt4YwCC1B4AqAyByyf5yFPHGXaQvXr_MDdNk7UbPYxAGtWwlsDwbbptdFXgn8r1hzDk8MXRtE-4-Nf5HHDDS_ZEIBaUe-67HucWkPP0nRwJ6uBkGXm4bzF0/s850/2+Sourdough+Starter+copy.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArnn-C4kITX5K1OZ7CmPCMNt4YwCC1B4AqAyByyf5yFPHGXaQvXr_MDdNk7UbPYxAGtWwlsDwbbptdFXgn8r1hzDk8MXRtE-4-Nf5HHDDS_ZEIBaUe-67HucWkPP0nRwJ6uBkGXm4bzF0/w400-h400/2+Sourdough+Starter+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium; font-style: italic;">This year's foray into bread baking came about by accident. Just prior to the latest covid breakout in Sydney, Pam and I visited our good friends Margaret and Rob in Adelong, in southern New South Wales. When we arrived Marg was baking a loaf of sourdough bread, and it was delicious, and so she put some sourdough starter into a plastic container and it came home with us. I still don't know how to make a sourdough starter. All I had to do was say "thanks Marg" and it was mine.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That was back in June, and since then I have been learning how to make and bake sourdough bread every weekend. Some successes, some failures but I've been getting steadily better at it, I think. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pam says I fuss over my sourdough starter like it's a pet. That's because you have to regularly "feed" your starter to keep it active and healthy. Basically, starter is just flour and water and natural yeasts from the atmosphere. The yeasts feed on the flour and water, and once a week you need to add some more to keep everything bubbling away. It isn't rocket science, but it is science.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A set of digital kitchen scales makes life much easier. For example, if you have 100g starter, feed it with 50g flour and 50g water. Stir well, put the lid back on the container and leave it in your fridge. There are only one zillion websites pontificating on sourdough starters and sourdough baking, and some of them are a wonderful source of information, others are mostly disinformation that will lead you astray ... reminds you of any other hot topic right now?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Enough of this morning's cooking enthusiasm, tonight I'm returning to a cherished favourite cuisine, North African cooking using the spice blend "chermoula" and the whole meal cooked in a tagine.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24RXb14oiov7aDsHdoGkH-A8d3jc_aNf-vwMf1obFiTORgXwKgCGHwHqwnL9dtitWA7Q10s9NXTOexJWUn8UaUnOOSs7AZKdTtGST1ldzwjR-4rOpi1HkyntIQBCsJmdJlO4rHiliLhDc/s851/3+Chermoula+1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="851" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24RXb14oiov7aDsHdoGkH-A8d3jc_aNf-vwMf1obFiTORgXwKgCGHwHqwnL9dtitWA7Q10s9NXTOexJWUn8UaUnOOSs7AZKdTtGST1ldzwjR-4rOpi1HkyntIQBCsJmdJlO4rHiliLhDc/w400-h268/3+Chermoula+1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The fun part of making chermoula is that you can do it with a mortar and pestle. I just love the ancient low-tech vibe of a mortar and pestle, and I think it actually gives you better results than whacking everything in a blender. The ingredients used vary depending on whose recipe you use, but they usually include ground ginger, paprika, cumin, cayenne pepper, lemon juice, garlic, salt, olive oil, fresh coriander and fresh parsley.<br /><br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9bfRQfYAET8yRJQPN6U4kG3Z2t-Vc24-tg7B3CrYS7sYDcwqSShK0Sw15VHZz-DQDgUA-LN5FR_Y2Fo-h1QYTIRd_X8OAv8oDNm2zayHaWp_0jkwtjynhCnhijrxVWoAM08lmoBq2fQq/s850/4+Chermoula.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="850" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9bfRQfYAET8yRJQPN6U4kG3Z2t-Vc24-tg7B3CrYS7sYDcwqSShK0Sw15VHZz-DQDgUA-LN5FR_Y2Fo-h1QYTIRd_X8OAv8oDNm2zayHaWp_0jkwtjynhCnhijrxVWoAM08lmoBq2fQq/w400-h268/4+Chermoula.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I finely chop the coriander and parsley before adding to the mortar and pestle in small batches. After 5 or so minutes of village-peasant pounding, all the ingredients fuse together into a fragrant, luscious marinade that you can then use with whatever meats and vegetables take your fancy. I've used it with fish, then another with lamb, and tonight we'll be enjoying a chicken tagine flavoured with chermoula. You need no other spices, but most recipes do ask for chopped tomatoes and onions to enhance the flavour.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCdoiRMS815ZvpRSs_GlXPthE5P7SA0txh1GFpux8wd1kuxiyTDhyWERMXToGL74wU7U8Tj1iUdXMPSzICY1nsHj2Bzxz2o-CY0Li8Mg4G1ESoDvPyzSW6xhZceH4SWOMIZ-vsb5O1eKh/s850/5+Tagine.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="850" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCdoiRMS815ZvpRSs_GlXPthE5P7SA0txh1GFpux8wd1kuxiyTDhyWERMXToGL74wU7U8Tj1iUdXMPSzICY1nsHj2Bzxz2o-CY0Li8Mg4G1ESoDvPyzSW6xhZceH4SWOMIZ-vsb5O1eKh/w400-h268/5+Tagine.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is my snazzy Scanpan tagine that Pammy gave me for our 20th wedding anniversary, way back in 2009. While I freely admit that as an enthusiastic but not very talented home cook that I have my fair share of successes and failures, I'd have to report that the magical combination of chermoula and a tagine has never let me down yet. And I think it's because it's a "pop in the oven, set and forget" style of cooking.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So there you have it, the Saturday cook up continues.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meanwhile, out in the garden I've cut back the big clump of lemon grass so it's now a set of clumpy stumps about 30cm tall. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've gone crazy and impulse-bought a Grosse Lisse tomato seedling from my local Woolworths supermarket. "No more tomatoes," I've told myself before, "too much trouble" I said. And there it is now, out there in the garden, making a start.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And the never-ending battle of the weeds continues ... but at the going down of the sun, we're off to Morocco!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-70473658691147778972021-09-15T15:07:00.000+10:002021-09-15T15:07:53.352+10:00What seeds have taught me about patience<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">One very strange thing I haven't been doing lately is visiting gardening centres. Prior to all this covid disruption, you'd probably find me browsing through a garden centre at least once a week. They were right up there with bookshops for me: regular haunts. But that was back then, and I haven't been to a bookshop for quite some time, either.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, instead of picking up a punnet of seedlings at the local garden centre, for the last few weeks I've either been sorting through my stash of seed packets, searching the small section devoted to seeds at my local supermarket, or — by far the best fun of all — I've been browsing seed catalogues online, placing orders, then waiting for our poor overworked Postie to deliver me the goodies.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another small padded envelope of seeds arrived in the mail today, and so I thought it's about time to share with you "What seeds have taught me about patience". It's not all good news, but it isn't a disaster story, either. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">On with the slide show.</span></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpnTrKtY8Fb4gmeApLHGSG_U0n1s8OXfiVCzkGl_2Hu-GYbN2i9HoagpcnU9sI69A6xQSNsPNaa90JaQ_8RypA-7UDvCaHL2vCCl3bAYjPupEG4pn1N5DumgEhddEf5J66nlVMN7JSCWd/s850/1+Coriander+%2526+Seed+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpnTrKtY8Fb4gmeApLHGSG_U0n1s8OXfiVCzkGl_2Hu-GYbN2i9HoagpcnU9sI69A6xQSNsPNaa90JaQ_8RypA-7UDvCaHL2vCCl3bAYjPupEG4pn1N5DumgEhddEf5J66nlVMN7JSCWd/w400-h300/1+Coriander+%2526+Seed+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>I love the way coriander seeds hang around on top of the baby leaves until the very last moment. It looks like the baby plants are telling the seeds to "buzz off, now scram!"<br />It's a tiny bit late in the season for coriander — I normally start sowing seeds in autumn — but this will be my last batch for 2021. They have just a couple of months to grow into lovely leafy herbs before summer comes on. O</i></span><i style="font-family: times;">nce things get seriously warm</i><i style="font-family: times;"> they go berserk, become seedy in no time, and the leafy herb I love is no more.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq4SieYTGg3qZeD1D27p7P64RG_4FHDP09PaNbs8D44v9RdVkO8OwDvLDx4ai3r8Y6nhcyMB6sw0hY2dgPZGZAalKnl7QPVEbolmmF_HkGC96_b8YrJQYc6qYp2OqnaNcd-EsaJAYe6re/s850/2+Basil+babies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq4SieYTGg3qZeD1D27p7P64RG_4FHDP09PaNbs8D44v9RdVkO8OwDvLDx4ai3r8Y6nhcyMB6sw0hY2dgPZGZAalKnl7QPVEbolmmF_HkGC96_b8YrJQYc6qYp2OqnaNcd-EsaJAYe6re/w400-h300/2+Basil+babies.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I only sowed these basil seeds last Monday, and they're up as fast as those other legendary quick sprouters, rocket. I'm looking for a crowded pot of little plants that will look very photogenic for a few weeks and supply lots of leaves for tossing into the mix with tomatoes, especially. What a team!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qY8F3AEYWGTqA_ShuodN-V6bYY1uHzGzvRc8fh2Nb4BONyiOxwSQ-R826Mnxm2TN3ZyXxFZQxxckdmMqmnZTrJQFeZWhFkjXzpzUv2vF8uoFddpzWyJ3UMXgxFnHbDeeXMCQTlwjmh1W/s850/3+Chilli+basil+coriander.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qY8F3AEYWGTqA_ShuodN-V6bYY1uHzGzvRc8fh2Nb4BONyiOxwSQ-R826Mnxm2TN3ZyXxFZQxxckdmMqmnZTrJQFeZWhFkjXzpzUv2vF8uoFddpzWyJ3UMXgxFnHbDeeXMCQTlwjmh1W/w400-h300/3+Chilli+basil+coriander.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I'm not fussy about where/who I get my seeds from, and my seed tin stash has all major and minor companies represented.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b70lgropCNvJ-bI4VvREruvdHCmq0SlcG4V5bYwTpahCCmTEFgYWng-vDdD7ytJJAHGVYIBXS0NfrYN1e7_ZADYuH9cbPzid5ijJfeSm4kb-w64hq2RbyIWmOENYwSFEqENx7QCD8iL5/s850/4+English+Spinach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="850" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b70lgropCNvJ-bI4VvREruvdHCmq0SlcG4V5bYwTpahCCmTEFgYWng-vDdD7ytJJAHGVYIBXS0NfrYN1e7_ZADYuH9cbPzid5ijJfeSm4kb-w64hq2RbyIWmOENYwSFEqENx7QCD8iL5/w400-h270/4+English+Spinach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>These English spinach seedlings came up only a day after the basil, and it's a good thing they're making a fast start. They're another crop which does better in the autumn and winter months, but I've got them in a partly shaded spot to avoid the heat, and I plan to fertilise the daylights out of them to make them grow faster. If we get a good crop, there's nothing Pammy likes more than a Japanese style Gomayagochi spinach salad with her grilled Teriyaki salmon. Home-grown spinach flavour here we come.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhD39lFCv5d9DgQTCUsd7OMl0OUPxjHT8VbN4o85OjE5Jb7nw6MDbfotiJwzMPBONt8hoUWmDtnRFstL2LH1uuNyt5Mu9FWSu5snf_pAaS1FR3YcB4z_0O3dWiVjvqt714LW0FPw3aDNW/s850/5+Spinach+silver+beet+etc+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhD39lFCv5d9DgQTCUsd7OMl0OUPxjHT8VbN4o85OjE5Jb7nw6MDbfotiJwzMPBONt8hoUWmDtnRFstL2LH1uuNyt5Mu9FWSu5snf_pAaS1FR3YcB4z_0O3dWiVjvqt714LW0FPw3aDNW/w400-h300/5+Spinach+silver+beet+etc+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Once you get addicted to growing plants from seed, as well as actually planting some of the seeds (eg, the spinach, silver beet and spring onions in the top row) you also end up buying packets of seeds in a "seemed like a good idea at the time" kind of way. I fully intend to grow leeks, lettuce and radish some time soon, I hope. No reason why not, really ...</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30Z3OGNQAMmQ4BOpgu6hO_QK4IxhJNcdcMomOZyuNoQYrq4_c-9BOQQUy7cxK5FzqAafal3Gmqq_FEezjwkq1POlPx_FpPaHyQY-VJWH-rjzCIFErs3ItX2qb7JPDCJC3puJRWhDQD6PM/s850/6+Pot+of+chives.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30Z3OGNQAMmQ4BOpgu6hO_QK4IxhJNcdcMomOZyuNoQYrq4_c-9BOQQUy7cxK5FzqAafal3Gmqq_FEezjwkq1POlPx_FpPaHyQY-VJWH-rjzCIFErs3ItX2qb7JPDCJC3puJRWhDQD6PM/w300-h400/6+Pot+of+chives.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Here's one of those lessons in patience that seeds have taught me. Usually I am dead lazy about growing chives. Every winter my pots of chives turn into dense, unhappy clumps that turn yellow and look crook. Always a glutton for punishment, I have tried de-potting the clump, diving up the plants and replanting them in fresh mix, and the results have never been all that great. So most years I just buy a fresh punnet of little chives, plant them in a pot and they zoom away! This time, I decided to do it with seeds, and what do you know? (See below) ... </span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrX8Hc3QEnLyYzb8_Ayb3gFShKo4Sh7BMMLjUGRpoOjRvi11j9UUGUXWX7v7rfPASXfsTGNHr9fLTHho6J1gMp5e9zzTlpfstHB5RU_-QKepLH9odPRPe4LI_yQ4xDCjH3l9U3S3MZ6OW/s850/7+Chives+seed+pack+back.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQrX8Hc3QEnLyYzb8_Ayb3gFShKo4Sh7BMMLjUGRpoOjRvi11j9UUGUXWX7v7rfPASXfsTGNHr9fLTHho6J1gMp5e9zzTlpfstHB5RU_-QKepLH9odPRPe4LI_yQ4xDCjH3l9U3S3MZ6OW/w300-h400/7+Chives+seed+pack+back.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>It takes 14-21 days for the seed to sprout, and this pot took all 21 days to sprout (that was all of July). Now, 6 weeks later, we're in business snipping chives to go into Pammy's scrambled eggs on Sunday morning. But the lesson I have to share with slow-sprouting seeds is to know this in advance, plan well ahead, and try to see the year in three-month-long blocks of time. Impatient "days and weeks" thinking is just too hurried. If you grow chives from seed, think "third quarter of the year" as chive time.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XGrD5iQmNzFAw4c_V3Jj3lsV70fW8sAy3wVhPJKmMWl7SzfyjrKr1tjHFQLCH5ymoijwwlJmyuSDcKlRrNF5fohkS9nAMrKPTYPPj_MjasUg3Wk2sBDBGvftqDcTedavUfGUhrCz5zIa/s850/8+Lettuce+pot+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XGrD5iQmNzFAw4c_V3Jj3lsV70fW8sAy3wVhPJKmMWl7SzfyjrKr1tjHFQLCH5ymoijwwlJmyuSDcKlRrNF5fohkS9nAMrKPTYPPj_MjasUg3Wk2sBDBGvftqDcTedavUfGUhrCz5zIa/w400-h300/8+Lettuce+pot+2.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Much more fun, quicker and prettier to look at, the wonderful world of lettuce is a great place for beginners to get started with seeds. There's a zillion varieties to choose from, especially when you start shopping online, and usually lettuce will sprout for you quite quickly.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-TxiNf4qZTzVWmBWU3fvvA_6HIyiZ3MEo4-vc4h77sooS8_rDDkMP-uvDKwnbDscE62IC0FMTA9uR_cv33tFCFySEzo-A_bXvT12wDucQMhGov3riA-j0_GhneNX8I2ov1wDoD3pcFjs/s850/9+Shallot+trough.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-TxiNf4qZTzVWmBWU3fvvA_6HIyiZ3MEo4-vc4h77sooS8_rDDkMP-uvDKwnbDscE62IC0FMTA9uR_cv33tFCFySEzo-A_bXvT12wDucQMhGov3riA-j0_GhneNX8I2ov1wDoD3pcFjs/w300-h400/9+Shallot+trough.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I've been growing spring onions/scallions/shallots (call them what you will) from seed for several years now. My problem is that I hate wastage, and buying just one punnet of seedlings gives me about three times more seedlings than I have space for them, so I raise small batches from seed each time I start a crop. I cook with them all the time, adding them to salads and stir-fries, as well as using them as a mildly oniony substitute when I don't have any onions at hand. And that classic Chinese ginger and shallot dipping sauce for poached chicken is just heaven on a plate. I miss Yum Cha!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4nH2D6QPgO7-Cz1Srly3c6F-SHkKuBh49GFCvgKeZh12txYwxbvzLzYCzm4ZRbtZioXQNJQJBnPHumQOWjqt2LqTP2wkXKv23vrAXC5gJ3erZ6wXKdRrTKXZKpi6jZqrS5GoEf4pFFOY/s850/10+Lettuce+%2526+Chervil.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4nH2D6QPgO7-Cz1Srly3c6F-SHkKuBh49GFCvgKeZh12txYwxbvzLzYCzm4ZRbtZioXQNJQJBnPHumQOWjqt2LqTP2wkXKv23vrAXC5gJ3erZ6wXKdRrTKXZKpi6jZqrS5GoEf4pFFOY/w400-h300/10+Lettuce+%2526+Chervil.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is what arrived in the mail today, from my favourite online seed supplier, Eden Seeds. Like all the good quality specialists they have a wide range to choose from, and their customer service and delivery speed is reliably very good. This time I succumbed to the lure of two very pretty loose leaf lettuce, and a packet of the hard-to-find, tricky-to-grow and finely flavoured herb, chervil. I've been banging on for years about how good chervil is and so far I think I have convinced no-one. But Pammy loves chervil too, and that's all I need to know to enjoy its flavour. Its lightly aniseedy delicacy is superb with mild-tasting vegies such as zucchini and squash. Transforms them from bland to beautiful.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ySLVkyew5fn2MjMG6jlS_hBZ_teO8kptFINsyWwo4qdcfFuxEe98i4KSV0bD-7KioOu6eVK6xB0YHrXQtX6Q4Oy-2ZXgHjegLHQIIsixzbkJHQarNkgkKikfc5EjRa5ddPZnFcQOLHnQ/s850/11+Weet+Bix+seed+tin+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ySLVkyew5fn2MjMG6jlS_hBZ_teO8kptFINsyWwo4qdcfFuxEe98i4KSV0bD-7KioOu6eVK6xB0YHrXQtX6Q4Oy-2ZXgHjegLHQIIsixzbkJHQarNkgkKikfc5EjRa5ddPZnFcQOLHnQ/w400-h300/11+Weet+Bix+seed+tin+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>As well as being a sucker for lettuce varieties in seed catalogues, I am also very susceptible to limited edition tins of biscuits or other products on supermarket shelves. My shed has a goodly number of "collectable" supermarket tins filled with glues, nuts & bolts, and seed packets. All the cricket heroes on this Weet-Bix tin have long retired but this tin has aged nicely, with almost all the colours fading to a bluey-grey, as if there has been a printing mistake at the factory. Inside that tin is a cornucopia of seed packets that is constantly being added to ... more Aladdin's tin than Aladdin's cave.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dTEm5eHTxFet0aZwtX24ztL5XlI2xLa61168hp6pvNMW0uwQvAsNmlhIQibb0mxaB94MmpBx86FTAvgtidINYvQmtlPaKnRn5Cbhyphenhyphen6R5DM6OavRrPst6GYAGB7kgHmp8MEi8hoi3YMuo/s850/12+Cosmos+Bright+Eyes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dTEm5eHTxFet0aZwtX24ztL5XlI2xLa61168hp6pvNMW0uwQvAsNmlhIQibb0mxaB94MmpBx86FTAvgtidINYvQmtlPaKnRn5Cbhyphenhyphen6R5DM6OavRrPst6GYAGB7kgHmp8MEi8hoi3YMuo/w300-h400/12+Cosmos+Bright+Eyes.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Last but not least in the slide show is confirmation that not everything in that Weet-Bix tin is an edible. I know that cosmos is a bit weedy, so I have planted a row of cosmos seeds at the back of my Big Red geranium patch. So the plan is this summer the cosmos will add cheery yellow and orange flowers towering over the scrambling concourse of red geraniums, and then after the cosmos season has ended, the Battle Royal will ensue as weedy cosmos grapples with ever-spreading geraniums.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, even though growing everything this year from seed is like gardening in slow motion, time ticks over steadily. It's spooky, like it has something to do with the position of the sun in the sky or something.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If you are impatient, don't even think about growing chives, chervil or parsley from seed. They're seeds of patience, for the long-term planners.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If you are impatient, get out there and start sprinkling around the basil seeds, the spinach, the lettuce, the rocket. There'll be something happening before one week has passed. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm somewhere in between when it comes to patience. I do have some patience, but not a lot. So I do love it when seeds come up fast.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But I have learned that there's a deep satisfaction when real patience, the long-waiting, not-much-happening-yet kind of patience is rewarded. It's as if time has become an old friend with whom I am strolling through the year, hand-in-hand. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-64832338101525426502021-09-02T13:05:00.002+10:002021-09-02T14:37:46.615+10:00A resounding shambles – sorry about the video links ...<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hi everyone</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Apologies!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Just a short (for me) and apologetic posting to everyone who subscribes to my blog via email. Apparently lots of you have been getting the text, but instead of the videos there's just a huge black box with nothing in it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That wasn't the plan!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, to repeat the video postings of the previous two days for anyone interested in spending five minutes on YouTube looking at my guided tours of Garden Amateur land, here are the links, just as old-fashioned links to click on.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Handy hint: turn the volume of the sound up!</span></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's a link to the first one (west side of the garden)</span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://youtu.be/DuWm4Fy1CtQ&source=gmail&ust=1630637848401000&usg=AFQjCNGuXjy-gdSvxfpoKrAyS06OloWZwg" href="https://youtu.be/DuWm4Fy1CtQ" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">https://youtu.be/DuWm4Fy1CtQ</span></a><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And here's a link to the second one (east side)</span></div><div style="background-color: white;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://youtu.be/qH6HPp8moV0&source=gmail&ust=1630637848401000&usg=AFQjCNEwf_knsh3dXTFFh6zxduVihS-1vw" href="https://youtu.be/qH6HPp8moV0" target="_blank"><span style="color: red; font-family: verdana;">https://youtu.be/qH6HPp8moV0</span></a></div><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-11606257006825259322021-09-01T13:03:00.001+10:002021-09-01T13:03:46.395+10:00First day of spring: a video on the other half of our garden<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">After showing you briefly around the western half of our small Sydney garden in the video I posted yesterday – the last day of winter – today I have another little video showing you the highlights of the eastern half of Garden Amateur land on this, the first day of spring.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="325" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qH6HPp8moV0" width="390" youtube-src-id="qH6HPp8moV0"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-62345843149880429732021-08-31T16:13:00.002+10:002021-09-01T14:59:33.218+10:00And now for something completely different: a short video<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Late this afternoon I decided to do a short experimental video, wandering around part of our garden.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so here is "And now for something completely different" a short walk around one part of our tiny garden on August 31, the last day of winter.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="349" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DuWm4Fy1CtQ" width="420" youtube-src-id="DuWm4Fy1CtQ"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-66865982302973250922021-08-30T12:37:00.000+10:002021-08-30T12:37:22.167+10:00Smashing success: repotting my curry leaf tree<br /><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I didn't think I'd be doing a detailed "how to" involving a hammer and a sharp knife when I woke up this morning, but here we are anyway (and it was a smashing success I might add). </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have more than one curry leaf tree growing in my garden, and quite some time ago I had promised to give my one-metre tall </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">potted curry leaf tree to my good friends Jolanda and Paul.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">They used to have a productive curry leaf tree in their garden, but while they were away travelling for several months in 2019 (lucky them!) the tree didn't survive, so they needed a replacement. The problem is that my potted tree really needed repotting before I handed it over to them, so "now is as good a time as any" became a very good reason to repot the tree this Monday morning.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's how it all went ... </span></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBvRV3nIw8FIdNXgJ6WCpN6F3H1kckTCLbub-MtD-GPIRMBC4YIaNCVf9u-UpDIrW5X42A8K173CIqUMTDrWvpIF0ABpS7NmyTrIlmytJTXdszooUA7CW7KBeOT_-aHg3VzOOTli610jt/s850/1+Wrong+shape+pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBvRV3nIw8FIdNXgJ6WCpN6F3H1kckTCLbub-MtD-GPIRMBC4YIaNCVf9u-UpDIrW5X42A8K173CIqUMTDrWvpIF0ABpS7NmyTrIlmytJTXdszooUA7CW7KBeOT_-aHg3VzOOTli610jt/w300-h400/1+Wrong+shape+pot.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I do like terracotta pots for many reasons, but this shape is all wrong. Leaving the existing tree in there too long meant that it had filled the bulbous centre and just won't come out by pulling it out. It's stuck in there!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO-ItsqJfALkWZMISk3ofHrzDJtoJ02iMubb-pj0o3ZFMXPxN9buV3dDNZJTTRMxowmAPbUtFeWDbTt00s0WIN0L0WLkkOMZCU97hZmUsuog0DYqx5_Q2Y0RlyVidNPeuAejm7pcGNh3z/s1559/2+Pot+sizes+old+pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="1559" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO-ItsqJfALkWZMISk3ofHrzDJtoJ02iMubb-pj0o3ZFMXPxN9buV3dDNZJTTRMxowmAPbUtFeWDbTt00s0WIN0L0WLkkOMZCU97hZmUsuog0DYqx5_Q2Y0RlyVidNPeuAejm7pcGNh3z/w400-h183/2+Pot+sizes+old+pot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The existing pot is 28cm wide and 28cm high</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx8vsFM5tMIkJE24dyo_3EdOKbNKwS_oGxZXmcob-XoFXwigCw44V8Je-sV7SGfFdQ1Q6E0ezQgJkzYKfnX4fe3_caLFBnhqcINkkqy5ZfccrRTOwWHFxacuAyT7r6eIyHgWiAMY4JMhz/s1701/3+Pot+sizes+new+pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1701" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx8vsFM5tMIkJE24dyo_3EdOKbNKwS_oGxZXmcob-XoFXwigCw44V8Je-sV7SGfFdQ1Q6E0ezQgJkzYKfnX4fe3_caLFBnhqcINkkqy5ZfccrRTOwWHFxacuAyT7r6eIyHgWiAMY4JMhz/w400-h200/3+Pot+sizes+new+pot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>So I found a perfect replacement that is 33cm wide and 33.5cm high, bigger the than old pot all round and offering room to grow, but only one size up, not too big. And it has the right shape, so in future years if the tree needs repotting, it can be pulled out easily.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4pB6emy2UZiyx09iEI3CZn0JoWBnKc8qtrwfk30mua1siWvzo6EtRy3D4lvZUzg3QTGgmbvGBjnptsFJVvowDYSR48a8jBTn-Q3CyGn3yCj2ZKhilXA3gG2N1xhLe_SPoz13DBiEuy62/s850/4+One+clean+hit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4pB6emy2UZiyx09iEI3CZn0JoWBnKc8qtrwfk30mua1siWvzo6EtRy3D4lvZUzg3QTGgmbvGBjnptsFJVvowDYSR48a8jBTn-Q3CyGn3yCj2ZKhilXA3gG2N1xhLe_SPoz13DBiEuy62/w400-h300/4+One+clean+hit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Just one gentle tap with my hammer produced the perfect result. Away fell one full half of the original pot, and the rootball lifted out easily. I know, seems like a radical thing to do, but I don't have much inclination to hang onto badly-shaped pots. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioF2nzJn17oaOQ0te40Uihdcm36QB9MoSGojCQj5SY_6mIoMs_FaOJGtF-NqO7kruqYzUMkheJWGWPaJKIjhTrDOR68W6_Z84NoYQ4hZtxnRvVheskfn81CHfaVAHqZ559ovZDhc7Htoyx/s1134/5+Cut+root+ball+with+knife+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioF2nzJn17oaOQ0te40Uihdcm36QB9MoSGojCQj5SY_6mIoMs_FaOJGtF-NqO7kruqYzUMkheJWGWPaJKIjhTrDOR68W6_Z84NoYQ4hZtxnRvVheskfn81CHfaVAHqZ559ovZDhc7Htoyx/w300-h400/5+Cut+root+ball+with+knife+2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>If you think taking a hammer to a pot is a radical manoeuvre, then wait till you see me perform surgery on the rootball with a sharp knife. The rootball was fairly tight at the base, and so I made several vertical slits in the most tightly packed sections then lightly teased out the roots.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_rqgieY-3bSVL4EpSdZRDJ1HC8j2hXUJyqcyjOriZHDNE_IKTyIyaAd1LTCg9C_PscR6hjJoBnNnd8Y-YkZYdRVQHG4Y08NzmMMsCQX4JNaxt1pn4cDZaBemz5s0qRlRMSWz4FYpIb7N/s1134/6+Loosen+roots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_rqgieY-3bSVL4EpSdZRDJ1HC8j2hXUJyqcyjOriZHDNE_IKTyIyaAd1LTCg9C_PscR6hjJoBnNnd8Y-YkZYdRVQHG4Y08NzmMMsCQX4JNaxt1pn4cDZaBemz5s0qRlRMSWz4FYpIb7N/w300-h400/6+Loosen+roots.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Now the roots will happily start moving their way into the fresh potting mix that will surround them in their slightly bigger new home.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiKY5PeX2iag3ggSCox2_Uxvw2S9vW-Lfncl_FHbhEG9_GjJKjOhUqi_EYrZLZAWyZ_bi9GoK7HDJL-TzqVcOv7BXZcnrySg3BlWx-ynS0SWCfzSiJShSowhJlQTk5Tbj3KtLxuutj_lYj/s1134/7+10cm+short+no+soil+added.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiKY5PeX2iag3ggSCox2_Uxvw2S9vW-Lfncl_FHbhEG9_GjJKjOhUqi_EYrZLZAWyZ_bi9GoK7HDJL-TzqVcOv7BXZcnrySg3BlWx-ynS0SWCfzSiJShSowhJlQTk5Tbj3KtLxuutj_lYj/w300-h400/7+10cm+short+no+soil+added.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The new pot is bigger than the old one, so how much potting mix to add to the bottom, before adding the rootball? I just did a test fitting of the rootball into the new pot, 10cm short.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjz8oBV-c9q9CBHsGuUk1F5gIrkrsIRMLJ5EWte199yIeb73YNPq0tk4mYCwHpDz0JqCOfVBduzt5mWYYuSavvp9-Q9-Jp8jot8KzFliqaH8F_Hj1Fr2qh2ZiCUYett9OgF9klrDaQGVfh/s1134/8+Add+10cm+soil+at+bottom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjz8oBV-c9q9CBHsGuUk1F5gIrkrsIRMLJ5EWte199yIeb73YNPq0tk4mYCwHpDz0JqCOfVBduzt5mWYYuSavvp9-Q9-Jp8jot8KzFliqaH8F_Hj1Fr2qh2ZiCUYett9OgF9klrDaQGVfh/w300-h400/8+Add+10cm+soil+at+bottom.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">So I added about 10cm of new mix in the bottom, before sitting the rootball on top.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_diA8KR8Lao0Ko8hjdcSl5V4RPmt3m9a4HuLvXHtHTyYGhUzLlHybixhCAG5E4luH1DW5sXvcCgxtzgcfzxwXELtKyNsnvVcQ-UhtZXf8p-wILuXKb1nOyT7Ljw_TjhTKKIEgM9d8loXL/s850/9+2cm+from+top+once+rootball+in.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_diA8KR8Lao0Ko8hjdcSl5V4RPmt3m9a4HuLvXHtHTyYGhUzLlHybixhCAG5E4luH1DW5sXvcCgxtzgcfzxwXELtKyNsnvVcQ-UhtZXf8p-wILuXKb1nOyT7Ljw_TjhTKKIEgM9d8loXL/w400-h300/9+2cm+from+top+once+rootball+in.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>That worked out fairly well, so I carefully added new mix to fill the gap in the sides. Shaking the pot gently helped to settle the new mix into the gaps.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdfhvykm3nujddXq-dJmxTQpHEoILs6lDC5l1TyaQTjXknwEyAJtUA63RPccUI346ETZej67ViNd5uV6c4M_ny0o67VQeX-0aYSOXgOm6HZ1Wg8p3YbT2KmSVSi78MRiLlREOocMycNqK/s850/10+Topped+up+with+fresh+mix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdfhvykm3nujddXq-dJmxTQpHEoILs6lDC5l1TyaQTjXknwEyAJtUA63RPccUI346ETZej67ViNd5uV6c4M_ny0o67VQeX-0aYSOXgOm6HZ1Wg8p3YbT2KmSVSi78MRiLlREOocMycNqK/w400-h300/10+Topped+up+with+fresh+mix.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Ideally, never add much potting mix on top of the existing surface, as there are lots of "feeder roots" right at the soil surface. However, I spread a super-thin layer on top to even out some bumps.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU80BKkRB_EcGSvi4IEw6n6bpFmW0A8XCDXYkjf9exKxX45yyprCp2rfqeBkvnCr5hUu86f9O_Hgp3NCqqPBs7PaTf-KKBTmJK0eOlNRap6RLrX20FEXZhcW9CbOSG_OYi6CY7Xy4Sy7_/s850/11+Water+in+with+seaweed+solution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU80BKkRB_EcGSvi4IEw6n6bpFmW0A8XCDXYkjf9exKxX45yyprCp2rfqeBkvnCr5hUu86f9O_Hgp3NCqqPBs7PaTf-KKBTmJK0eOlNRap6RLrX20FEXZhcW9CbOSG_OYi6CY7Xy4Sy7_/w400-h300/11+Water+in+with+seaweed+solution.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>After all the trauma of surgery by Dr Gardenamateur, my curry tree will be a bit stressed, so I made up a seaweed solution and gave the plant a good watering with that. This product is called "eco-seaweed" and I have been using it for years. It's a competitor to Seasol in the market, isn't as well known but does just as good a job. It comes as fine desiccated flakes that you add to the watering can (I add one teaspoon to a 9-litre can of water). </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7hrcO23N4KkcIPbYcwoUjcIe0oibqwy-dVK4aRi4azpe160gWSV9jxBbPfsyfC5y-E3fiF4-QIGyYwbPZhf96oF8muT8vGXXBqmDl_avFg7SvIjT6CVdimjN0SVB6NeACtwXyjhBjUiS/s850/12+Mulched.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7hrcO23N4KkcIPbYcwoUjcIe0oibqwy-dVK4aRi4azpe160gWSV9jxBbPfsyfC5y-E3fiF4-QIGyYwbPZhf96oF8muT8vGXXBqmDl_avFg7SvIjT6CVdimjN0SVB6NeACtwXyjhBjUiS/w400-h300/12+Mulched.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Finally, to help conserve moisture and suppress weeds, I added a layer of mulch to the pot, making sure to keep the mulch away from the trunk itself.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEaZLiyBXXz24zb-Wr5IcN_lsgS78Y6VXLrsDnc_ei57cHp6V_nSWCok7ts9EjcdsjWsn0VFaZslGHhzEVyL5Ev4AkCtl7FQyhewVWGXCNxK2O_QbX3IDrBSVIURdCL6dEyjarZV0jffF/s850/13+Lots+of+spring+growth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEaZLiyBXXz24zb-Wr5IcN_lsgS78Y6VXLrsDnc_ei57cHp6V_nSWCok7ts9EjcdsjWsn0VFaZslGHhzEVyL5Ev4AkCtl7FQyhewVWGXCNxK2O_QbX3IDrBSVIURdCL6dEyjarZV0jffF/w400-h300/13+Lots+of+spring+growth.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>As a tropical plant, our curry trees don't like Sydney winters at all, and they often lose some or all of their leaves by the end of July. As an annual thing I always prune back the tree a bit, then by early spring the whole thing is sprouting new leaves and greening up rapidly.<br /><br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So the curry leaf tree is ready to be handed over to Jolanda and Paul. They can leave it in its new pot for a couple of years before planting it out, if they like, or they can put it in the ground straight away. Whatever suits their plans ...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQAnUaaJunQXhE378t25iFg6ASfWrIRJRgZaplrITgVx1bImrDBREMr0Jt9L02koqnH0XgJ3YL7QajMm2M7pZoOh0V1tZ9rt3vxrPdGZZ6KTpxZhv8A5LH6xnc21oC41lD9jE6ow-buKv/s1134/14+Bonsai+going+strong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQAnUaaJunQXhE378t25iFg6ASfWrIRJRgZaplrITgVx1bImrDBREMr0Jt9L02koqnH0XgJ3YL7QajMm2M7pZoOh0V1tZ9rt3vxrPdGZZ6KTpxZhv8A5LH6xnc21oC41lD9jE6ow-buKv/w300-h400/14+Bonsai+going+strong.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meanwhile, my "bonsai" curry leaf tree actually provides me with all the curry leaves I need in cooking. It's still covered in leaves, they're a bit down on tropical green-ness at the end of winter, but generally the plant itself seems healthy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsS_9l7iR2wyxo8r_UdMEfOJwFj-kjsDt4TZJiGbBmAQI2Rf-A6hTMD7g7C00CaMu_cCFay-SdJvYJwDLiq6SD8CoVSef58Wiu474rPt28Tcv1NbXvNB2Gr36mXp3utxyUXH3t45gjNxT/s709/15+Curry+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="709" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsS_9l7iR2wyxo8r_UdMEfOJwFj-kjsDt4TZJiGbBmAQI2Rf-A6hTMD7g7C00CaMu_cCFay-SdJvYJwDLiq6SD8CoVSef58Wiu474rPt28Tcv1NbXvNB2Gr36mXp3utxyUXH3t45gjNxT/w400-h268/15+Curry+tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last of all, here's a photo from about 10 years ago, of our original backyard curry leaf tree. We originally had it growing in a pot, but then one day its roots got too big and strong and it cracked the pot. So we put it in a bigger pot and a few years later it cracked that one, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">So maybe Jolanda and Paul's plan to get their new tree into the ground is the best idea. If you grow these things in pots in Sydney, they love our warm wet summers so much that eventually they'll start causing some kind of headache for you ... but along the way they're an elegant addition to any Sydney garden, as well as a delicious addition to so many South Asian and Southeast Asian dishes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-30217517205585368822021-08-29T12:36:00.003+10:002021-08-29T14:10:42.943+10:00Five garden jobs you can do this spring<p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">How's that gardening motivation level going? Out of 10? Locked down by covid and nothing to do, lovely garden out there and you're still a motivational "1" out of 10?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If you can get yourself all the way up to a "3" or better, doing that first gardening job might just propel you to the dizzy heights of 5s or 6s. So here's a short "to-do" list just in case the spring weather starts getting to the gardener in you.</span></p><p><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></b></p><p><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Plant some spuds</b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Spring is the ideal time to get some spuds planted. The good thing is that specialist spud suppliers have been taking orders online for many years, so that's how to get started.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACYG4YPtrrixmJODyzWjzBUvpTdmovblMN2dbPmtEMLaAw24CfiF1ilMa_hzQs4wa-SKsBP-bqerF1uy8COhSWSvR0avwfRJfOMYkda8KpIh2w6CwTTkTWVfpcoy5x_52Xi6qlSLFJD3L/s737/1+Potatoes+in+a+bag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="737" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACYG4YPtrrixmJODyzWjzBUvpTdmovblMN2dbPmtEMLaAw24CfiF1ilMa_hzQs4wa-SKsBP-bqerF1uy8COhSWSvR0avwfRJfOMYkda8KpIh2w6CwTTkTWVfpcoy5x_52Xi6qlSLFJD3L/s320/1+Potatoes+in+a+bag.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">You can of course grow spuds in the ground, but a big pot works fine, so does a large "grow bag" that has holes included to help water drain away.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">To get started on your 2021 Spud Mania, try these links to well known suppliers:<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Garden Express: <a href="https://www.gardenexpress.com.au/shop/edible-produce/certified-seed-potatoes/">https://www.gardenexpress.com.au/shop/edible-produce/certified-seed-potatoes/</a></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Diggers Club: <a href="https://www.diggers.com.au/shop/vegetables/potatoes-and-other-tubers/">https://www.diggers.com.au/shop/vegetables/potatoes-and-other-tubers/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Green Harvest: <a href="https://greenharvest.com.au/Plants/Potatoes.html">https://greenharvest.com.au/Plants/Potatoes.html</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Goodmans: <a href="https://www.goodmanseeds.com.au/shop/certified-seed-potatoes">https://www.goodmanseeds.com.au/shop/certified-seed-potatoes</a></span></div><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Sow some seeds</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Spring is the ideal time to sow seeds of so many delicious crops, such as all salad greens, tomatoes, shallots, basil, silver beet, carrots, eggplant, cucumbers, zucchini — there are countless others — and the good news if you are locked down is that major supermarkets often stock the seeds you are looking for. I bought my Yates seeds for these babies pictured below at my local Woolies supermarket. </span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lrMBUYthL9L7iXf8qVlj8ieyVr9doWhl1BGNDvtGKVbnT-xf6k1-_XalzhHgCTD2VnlPQ2RdgOp2yC2uBZ-V3mzvUzB1iXNhHzG_lsXeSwb0Bso230iQdljFze1hC7AF2mI0xnJPnBd6/s850/1+Seedlings+in+morning+sun.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lrMBUYthL9L7iXf8qVlj8ieyVr9doWhl1BGNDvtGKVbnT-xf6k1-_XalzhHgCTD2VnlPQ2RdgOp2yC2uBZ-V3mzvUzB1iXNhHzG_lsXeSwb0Bso230iQdljFze1hC7AF2mI0xnJPnBd6/w400-h300/1+Seedlings+in+morning+sun.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>On the left are some shallot seedlings enjoying the morning sun, while on the right are seedlings of "mesclun" salad greens, which is a mixture of different greens. After sowing the seeds the fastest ones – the rocket (or arugula) – came up in just four days. The slowies took two weeks. The shallot seedlings came up in 7 days, so on each and every morning I was out there misting the seedling trays with water, there was something new coming up.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6lCM69g9uNieZdHd8R2XTOML_LwNlZsKcXis6NtuVzwY3rQw1RMpdiu9FjSN0teFT7t4mqh6BmDhkcTLzCL28fsFVX-NRKcmvBIrL0tNdVugjmU-2m1F6KR5LbI-TPz-DS6GakfNmTgCN/s850/2+Pots+in+a+bit+more+sun.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6lCM69g9uNieZdHd8R2XTOML_LwNlZsKcXis6NtuVzwY3rQw1RMpdiu9FjSN0teFT7t4mqh6BmDhkcTLzCL28fsFVX-NRKcmvBIrL0tNdVugjmU-2m1F6KR5LbI-TPz-DS6GakfNmTgCN/w400-h300/2+Pots+in+a+bit+more+sun.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>After about three weeks the seedlings are ready for more sunshine, so in my garden a lovely half-way house is under the dappled shade of my potted Thai lime tree. The seedlings get a bit of direct sun on them during the day but big brother lime tree shades them most of the time. In two weeks from now, they'll all be much bigger and potted up in their troughs in full sun, ready to roar away as spring warms up.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sowing seeds is a bit hit and miss sometimes, but I find I get 10 hits to every miss, so give it a go, the odds of succeeding are really good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Salad greens like mesclun, rocket, lettuce etc are very reliable and worth a try.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Basil is a good bet once the weather becomes truly warm.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If you're nervous about tomatoes give cherry tomatoes a try.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And if you want to fire up your lifestyle, chillies are so much fun to grow from seed. So many types and, given you probably only need one or two plants of each variety to knock your socks off, you're bound to have lots of success.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Go potty</b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Spring is a good time to do a bit of repotting. Here's one simple job I did this week, part of my succulent and cactus patch renovation.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpbD_fXpyGTXOX9kS_1_b5F-45v54fmw444GYYYkmc1sPHiRk9q2OPv7Cm9cRNwULrCXwqRRg4WlAjqnd1mGt2xhjQT4SPsjpKzfsTde4KjjENk-IerVV0G_N4kBpnKFUjPZ-rMVnl2s2/s850/1+Crowded+cacti.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpbD_fXpyGTXOX9kS_1_b5F-45v54fmw444GYYYkmc1sPHiRk9q2OPv7Cm9cRNwULrCXwqRRg4WlAjqnd1mGt2xhjQT4SPsjpKzfsTde4KjjENk-IerVV0G_N4kBpnKFUjPZ-rMVnl2s2/w300-h400/1+Crowded+cacti.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>God knows how many years ago, these three were tiny, cute midgets in baby pots that could sit on a windowsill. So I put all three in the one pot, put it out in the garden and forgot about them – and my, haven't they grown. Time for an upgrade in accommodation. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkm5o9jPFE-Pnbg5VKuzo3oP30a9f10j7DjbJRXtupi_K-BzBQRAaCcKHFkdo0OUzVexWaLxzC7v0VHUDEBGEDD3CaKPGfDQcNwHD_qVk9eiJx3DRV3ZDOyfpnbzCcpowyJzDNi_eKMLd/s850/3+One+pot+becomes+three.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkm5o9jPFE-Pnbg5VKuzo3oP30a9f10j7DjbJRXtupi_K-BzBQRAaCcKHFkdo0OUzVexWaLxzC7v0VHUDEBGEDD3CaKPGfDQcNwHD_qVk9eiJx3DRV3ZDOyfpnbzCcpowyJzDNi_eKMLd/w300-h400/3+One+pot+becomes+three.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Half an hour later each plant has its own home, and if I manage to neglect them for the next decade they'll probably need an upgrade in size by then. Without repotting, each plant would have crowded the other and all three would have suffered and probably died in the end.<br />This way, all three will just keep on growing.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So if you have a single plant that has grown too big for its pot, or you have too many plants in the one container, do everyone a favour and remove all the plants from the pots, upgrade their accommodation, and they'll be with you for many years to come.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Renovate your compost bin</b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Smelly compost? Open the lid and a cloud of little flies swarms out? Chances are your compost is too wet. What it needs is more dry matter to balance things out. And for me, the easiest source of dry matter is my big bag of sugar cane mulch. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMLQz7ekUNNze_fGPefXQJ-XddkXUtsY5tzNOsQG78aCtA3va0x5r9GufKdpRXzfSRgQ79DQIufBYRX0qu0Yhpfqk1cFoyoBoc9VKO81_xU-GJ6FK8wfP1NDzO-KF-EhxDyEwHxJdhL5KV/s850/1+mulch+compost.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMLQz7ekUNNze_fGPefXQJ-XddkXUtsY5tzNOsQG78aCtA3va0x5r9GufKdpRXzfSRgQ79DQIufBYRX0qu0Yhpfqk1cFoyoBoc9VKO81_xU-GJ6FK8wfP1NDzO-KF-EhxDyEwHxJdhL5KV/s320/1+mulch+compost.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I've been adding a few generous handfuls of mulch to my tumbler compost bin, giving the lot a twirl so it all mixes up nicely, then adding some more mulch a few days later. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If, like me, your kitchen fruit and vegie scraps bin is the main source of new materials for your compost bin, your compost bin is in danger of being too wet. When that happens composting slows down and things can get smelly. Add some dry matter (raked up autumn leaves if you have any), but if you have a bag of mulch, it's the easiest and quickest way to get your compost bin back in business. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Feed everything!</b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Spring is fertilising time, so get out there and do it. Doesn't matter what you use, usually, but there are so many specialist types of fertiliser to choose from it's easy to become overwhelmed with choice. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The only plants you need to be extra-careful with are natives, and they definitely need specialist native-friendly food that won't harm them but will feed them. The good news is there are many native friendly plant foods around now.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The best rule to follow, apart from reading the instructions on the packs, is that it is much much better to under-fertilise than overdo it. More is not better with fertiliser. So treat the maker's recommended dosages as the "maximum" dose at all times, and there's nothing wrong with lighter, half-dosage feeds, either.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">To keep things simple I mostly just use a liquid food (mixed up in a watering can) for all my edibles. Leading brands such as Dynamic Lifter, PowerFeed, Charlie Carp all do the same kind of job, and there are several others in the same category. In the growing season (ie, now) I liquid feed crops once a fortnight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">For most of my potted plants I use slow-release fertilisers, brands such as Osmocote and PowerFeed leading the field. These are almost "set-and-forget" in that you apply the little pellets, then you don't need to re-apply for months after that. Read the instructions and you'll see that some last 3 months, others 6 months. That's about it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And for general garden use and feeding citrus trees I use organic-based pellets such as Dynamic Lifter. The good thing about chicken poo style fertilisers and other organic-based products is that they also feed everything that lives in the soil, not just the plants.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Compost is a fabulous fertiliser for feeding the whole of the soil, so is blood and bone. Seaweed is a superb soil health tonic too. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">All the pure organic, or organic-based fertilisers are the best long-term option for improving the overall health of your garden soil. The benefits don't happen overnight, but over the years they are the outstanding option.</span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpim2vKUOae0eJN3dINT2lcWFIxErVb_522n4pgo2zZBMG_4CJCbeorYht9sm3yn0tAa3Gllkop6BbIa1NiknSzwqsCbd-eEEgt7LYJj45NGjn07cpihE3OfXalUPNX8ZxbzU1PCsGLEc/s2048/1+Mesclun+trough.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpim2vKUOae0eJN3dINT2lcWFIxErVb_522n4pgo2zZBMG_4CJCbeorYht9sm3yn0tAa3Gllkop6BbIa1NiknSzwqsCbd-eEEgt7LYJj45NGjn07cpihE3OfXalUPNX8ZxbzU1PCsGLEc/w400-h300/1+Mesclun+trough.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>So get out in the spring sunshine, plant some crops, visit your growing babies each day to care for them, then start harvesting the organic home-grown goodness that you've raised yourself. It's a satisfying feeling in a trying time. Give it a try.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-39864759482523363402021-08-27T15:45:00.001+10:002021-08-29T10:02:25.556+10:00Gladiator V Onion Weed<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pictured below is nothing less than a disgrace. A weedy disgrace, a total temporary victory by the evil onion weed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so last week I decided I had to do battle with this almost invincible foe, or die in the attempt. More to the point in my current state of health, I didn't so much fear death by onion weed than a relapse in my recovery from the broken foot/wrecked ankle. Neither happened, I'm still here. I won (kind of), and here's what happened in the Coliseum Match of Gladiator V Onion Weed.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_e43uSxU3_QBaBAQwdSICT14aiCpg5JpnYt-v4moVp4OYgIBYIhyhztZcf8Msli7YaZFQLRSP-wpqClOwoUbp3SaZ1iunwDvYMDtI1bhYEYZVFDLr2wt85brF4cz-BJBfbEWqt015JD58/s1134/1+Onion+weed+is+winning.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_e43uSxU3_QBaBAQwdSICT14aiCpg5JpnYt-v4moVp4OYgIBYIhyhztZcf8Msli7YaZFQLRSP-wpqClOwoUbp3SaZ1iunwDvYMDtI1bhYEYZVFDLr2wt85brF4cz-BJBfbEWqt015JD58/w400-h300/1+Onion+weed+is+winning.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Neglect onion weed for a few weeks so it gets a foothold in your garden, then wait for a thoroughly wet week or so of rain and suddenly you have this appalling problem to deal with.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm0_j5-uxHR2mNV3lv_-e3cVn5z6Wm_SnQl4hY86ffgczmYpk3RMQlv6_kA2YEg0akbGXvPCDo-2V9m8lt28UgmDqLmnFBJ2BXaa-xf2AVaAXccISJiKhIYHM4gxRlSkXTMLf_aZ9-iNW/s1134/2+Deweeded+and+deplanted+1.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzm0_j5-uxHR2mNV3lv_-e3cVn5z6Wm_SnQl4hY86ffgczmYpk3RMQlv6_kA2YEg0akbGXvPCDo-2V9m8lt28UgmDqLmnFBJ2BXaa-xf2AVaAXccISJiKhIYHM4gxRlSkXTMLf_aZ9-iNW/w400-h300/2+Deweeded+and+deplanted+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>And this is how it looked about three hours later. Every plant removed from the patch, plus half a wheelie bin full of onion weed. And as well as getting the big strappy leafed onion weeds with the bulbs on the bottom, of course there are approximately one million baby bulblets left behind, waiting for their chance to make my life a misery. I managed so sift out a few hundred thousand bulblets, but have no illusions about the task ahead. All the white dots you can see on the soil surface are the remnants of my decorative pebble mulch that has never managed to suppress a single weed in the last decade. Pretty, but useless ... </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFeJoDnMK0RVEL0tVW_cLuOYvsbubrZ39Z6Rf51kiSKCYXJ3YiInVlt0Ll3P4wgM_7hjniFcZDoDisNWoN9-aHCeksfq366blZdlGzCJ5HLvqB3OW_QDCXz_zXx5R169-olUdy3Yl1QAvN/s1134/3+trays+of+plants+2+trug+of+haworthia.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFeJoDnMK0RVEL0tVW_cLuOYvsbubrZ39Z6Rf51kiSKCYXJ3YiInVlt0Ll3P4wgM_7hjniFcZDoDisNWoN9-aHCeksfq366blZdlGzCJ5HLvqB3OW_QDCXz_zXx5R169-olUdy3Yl1QAvN/w300-h400/3+trays+of+plants+2+trug+of+haworthia.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Apart from leaving in place one large Crassula shrub and a pretty Kalanchoe 'Copper Spoons', I pulled every other succulent out of the ground. This trug full of haworthias isn't all of them by any stretch. These things multiply almost as well as onion weeds.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUncV9VMuH-kzqYhIcZteN7GAyw2VXw7b-84VwqJNV8UJMdiTMC3qX3trAvjdd79NMt9gXD2VC0k5P8tZWFciGAPFGlFeNmivIPdAkEGVBBlZQqwP7HQr0wEtWwi5w1khUkXweaLJBGtZ/s1134/4+trays+of+plants+3+sempervivums.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUncV9VMuH-kzqYhIcZteN7GAyw2VXw7b-84VwqJNV8UJMdiTMC3qX3trAvjdd79NMt9gXD2VC0k5P8tZWFciGAPFGlFeNmivIPdAkEGVBBlZQqwP7HQr0wEtWwi5w1khUkXweaLJBGtZ/w400-h300/4+trays+of+plants+3+sempervivums.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Little guys like these sempervivums somehow survived the smothering weeds, but from now on they are going to be growing in their own comfy pots.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXcg1E8YohcyX4_Gq1MRtTkZ7UkJyLlK-kg71ICzdgVN-Gly1tGRUI5B3x1cHYIYGxo2mMIkog5gPpqfkSc4LeXmNwqpqjKi3Sin4Q8mYEEH6qI96nXRpYzTlvscPiOaow-8SbDzUqdaJ/s1134/5+tray+of+plants+chalks+sticks.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXcg1E8YohcyX4_Gq1MRtTkZ7UkJyLlK-kg71ICzdgVN-Gly1tGRUI5B3x1cHYIYGxo2mMIkog5gPpqfkSc4LeXmNwqpqjKi3Sin4Q8mYEEH6qI96nXRpYzTlvscPiOaow-8SbDzUqdaJ/w400-h300/5+tray+of+plants+chalks+sticks.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Some of these Senecio 'Chalk Sticks' will be popped into pots, and a few put back in the ground. Lovely grey-blue colour.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYbAq6xvrnfwnyrr0dGzBYwlo9UpCzuB4T8jv_gffki6vwWWdM4WWmX1KcBTQ9N4eNLRRU-iqvfxPNBgDfNGSlczFOwLfFToS0y9xZm1CDH8NX2kyrFYBZ6ciXxgUrKJ1vJhkdb5RFwdGv/s1134/6+Jamie+at+work+5.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYbAq6xvrnfwnyrr0dGzBYwlo9UpCzuB4T8jv_gffki6vwWWdM4WWmX1KcBTQ9N4eNLRRU-iqvfxPNBgDfNGSlczFOwLfFToS0y9xZm1CDH8NX2kyrFYBZ6ciXxgUrKJ1vJhkdb5RFwdGv/w400-h400/6+Jamie+at+work+5.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I don't look like much of a Gladiator, but it was a torrid battle that lasted most of the day in the end. One of the things I like about digging soil is coming across all the worms and other little critters who call this soil home. I suspect they were all very upset by my presence. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbmTuXHP5ZWkbQ7NT6ydyd1TYu76Q0wZXrbANbQBC3gKFpGvrR9TLCebdoClBD_SPJ1pplQhyphenhyphenB2cEBR3w-OTNLzJGgaxu5ajHNMpYIB_ZTGyjwAXhyq9qcXXwuPivRWOE1gTr0FPkWTNQ/s1134/7+Pots+back+in+place.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbmTuXHP5ZWkbQ7NT6ydyd1TYu76Q0wZXrbANbQBC3gKFpGvrR9TLCebdoClBD_SPJ1pplQhyphenhyphenB2cEBR3w-OTNLzJGgaxu5ajHNMpYIB_ZTGyjwAXhyq9qcXXwuPivRWOE1gTr0FPkWTNQ/w400-h400/7+Pots+back+in+place.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>So the brilliant new plan is to grow many more succulents in pots, and only the very hardiest things (like those multiplying haworthias) in the ground. I've alway grown a small selection of cacti in pots, and the succulents make perfect company for them.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9oAV0ZCvOyy7LCREe1VDQ8gSL4KkSVxeUwIa8jkC0WMrcqnYu3Qcua14bCgli5KoOX-t6OTcdDIKSorxD-45Mk3BwjUnsWs41S7Zcnx_9WK8kCqBhI-bEoLT76mypQIP3lEnDJv9LbMc/s1134/8+Pots+back+in+place+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9oAV0ZCvOyy7LCREe1VDQ8gSL4KkSVxeUwIa8jkC0WMrcqnYu3Qcua14bCgli5KoOX-t6OTcdDIKSorxD-45Mk3BwjUnsWs41S7Zcnx_9WK8kCqBhI-bEoLT76mypQIP3lEnDJv9LbMc/w400-h400/8+Pots+back+in+place+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I used up every spare pot I could find in no time. The best ones for growing succulents are the "wide and shallow" ones. And I used up all my special Cacti & Succulent potting mix in no time, and most of these are now growing in good old ordinary potting mix, which will probably suit them just fine anyway (but it was all I had in the shed, so I couldn't be fussy).</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMznwS3MSFWyayWWlHEHUC29gONeuIyd5uEOJ61CjLubO4J1rULH26QPL_nxzBAswAbvUQMW9Q-QHs4mIXj6UVvpc7zz9USRvPxdzNTMm8TnLKfoZBgEPSA0n6LcqXPVUhCLqUglikTyn/s1134/9+Left+side+with+copper+spoons.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMznwS3MSFWyayWWlHEHUC29gONeuIyd5uEOJ61CjLubO4J1rULH26QPL_nxzBAswAbvUQMW9Q-QHs4mIXj6UVvpc7zz9USRvPxdzNTMm8TnLKfoZBgEPSA0n6LcqXPVUhCLqUglikTyn/w400-h400/9+Left+side+with+copper+spoons.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>As mentioned earlier, I have left the established 'Copper Spoons' shrub where it is, in the ground. Love the coppery colour of the new foliage. Every now and then a few leaves that fall off soon sprout into new plants on the ground, without any help from me.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXCeNGrXMen_GwiIgnZGHmgOAa3xcpFGyoXzIYZHF3FWNSnJvbEy3Etf7HOxEkiezIEeUp2HKcPyqEnkYvdzrSR9a_yJHKx3-Cec4FsOkwYY2JAqUAZUe1WTYymCk59VmtmNIkQBSFw5v/s1134/10+Pagoda+guy+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXCeNGrXMen_GwiIgnZGHmgOAa3xcpFGyoXzIYZHF3FWNSnJvbEy3Etf7HOxEkiezIEeUp2HKcPyqEnkYvdzrSR9a_yJHKx3-Cec4FsOkwYY2JAqUAZUe1WTYymCk59VmtmNIkQBSFw5v/w400-h400/10+Pagoda+guy+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Years ago when I first started this blog I made it a mission to find out the actual botanical names of my succulents, and it was no easy task. I tried hard but did get several wrong and was then corrected by succulent specialists who got in contact to set me straight. I am almost back where I started, though, as I now have half a dozen succulents, including this handsome one, whose name I don't know. I call him 'Pagoda guy'.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Since I renovated the succulent patch I've only been disappointed that there's still no sign of the first onion weed shoot popping up through the soil. I'm keeping a close watch and heaven help that first sprout! However, the real test will be whether I can keep up the vigilance if warm spring and summer weather gets wet. That's when the onion weed will really get cracking and try to take over again.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-82424591805611628882021-08-26T11:26:00.023+10:002021-08-26T17:12:59.338+10:00Shade-loving flowers on song<p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A rare event is happening out there in our garden this week. All the shade-loving flowering plants are singing from the same song sheet: they're all flowering at the same time, and it's never happened before.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">You'd think if someone said to you "here's three different spring-flowering, shade-loving plants for you to grow" you'd naturally enough picture all three of them in glorious bloom together: in this case a golden orange, a pale yellow and a dusky pink.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Yet over the years I've had these three growing in the same spot, the best I've managed is two at the same time, with the third missing in action. Not this year! The full orchestra is on song, and it's looking lovely.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQknTxnWlZoyzILH5pWJe9IsysHSTTpg93kmYPGPaCaoWb5hsmYwSbGM10j7gfqbT3QF5a5KYLlPt0NREiKTXFr4ks7kuoGETOWx4ijlSl8BCQLlwxmFgBRifca-Ufw0ETreYDpT1T9gK-/s1134/1+Scadoxus+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQknTxnWlZoyzILH5pWJe9IsysHSTTpg93kmYPGPaCaoWb5hsmYwSbGM10j7gfqbT3QF5a5KYLlPt0NREiKTXFr4ks7kuoGETOWx4ijlSl8BCQLlwxmFgBRifca-Ufw0ETreYDpT1T9gK-/w400-h300/1+Scadoxus+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is Scadoxus puniceus, otherwise known as the paintbrush lily or the Natal paintbrush, and you'd be right in guessing that it's originally from Natal and other provinces in South Africa. I'm just pleased to get one flower this year, as earlier the year while my ankle was in plaster we got in some boys to cut back hedges etc, and they stomped all over the Scadoxus bulbs and left them poking sideways and looking the worse for wear — such a shame. I replanted them when I was able to in early winter, but they don't like being disturbed, and I was fearful that none might flower. There's lots of babies, and at least I have 14 bulbs growing now. Four are 'adult' sized, and the other 10 are bubs which might take another 4-5 years to flower. So there's a good reason to live right there! Imagine 14 Scadoxus in flower — can't wait till I hit my mid 70s! </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEiBZPF9Ibn09LcEkXFcqJn77m1-VbxXOhtCzt2pEkNFbHKhzATtQbxV-86EHOA4FtsfR96rurUVUDAJDfJbHNTuMQhDsse8mqEc3I4mG6aOv0krkBFznTE6gnNxv_mrbWMRSvx-fYR2w/s1134/2+Velthemia.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEiBZPF9Ibn09LcEkXFcqJn77m1-VbxXOhtCzt2pEkNFbHKhzATtQbxV-86EHOA4FtsfR96rurUVUDAJDfJbHNTuMQhDsse8mqEc3I4mG6aOv0krkBFznTE6gnNxv_mrbWMRSvx-fYR2w/w400-h400/2+Velthemia.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This pink person is Velthemia bracteata, and as well as producing dusky pink blooms it has the added bonus of always reminding me of our good friends John and Liz, who gave us three bulbs, all of which are flowering nicely. And it's another South African, from the Cape Province and elsewhere.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzXhNPgAu8jLTOGwJMhSmOJdI7pKVkPGsQ6WsipULVi2XVgzkhBTH3jdazXVV9eZbKNZBgFh6B7vJe8e6XmPfGstbI-7xW113Av5CxGSviy1HQIMsmd8rF1KZYP0bLS-ekD_LMDUdeKBG/s1134/3+Yellow+clivia+1.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzXhNPgAu8jLTOGwJMhSmOJdI7pKVkPGsQ6WsipULVi2XVgzkhBTH3jdazXVV9eZbKNZBgFh6B7vJe8e6XmPfGstbI-7xW113Av5CxGSviy1HQIMsmd8rF1KZYP0bLS-ekD_LMDUdeKBG/w400-h300/3+Yellow+clivia+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Rounding out our trio of spring flowers is, very suitably, another South African shade-lover, Clivia miniata. This is better known to most people as an orange-flowered, strappy-leaved clump-forming perennial, but at a flower and garden show several years ago I came across a guy with a clivia stand and had to buy these yellow ones, just to be different (who, me?). The clumps are slowly spreading, so I am hoping that coming years will be even yellower.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0n6Q0jHy3ToQiokKDOee5blAsMzWjIT-qiDbit6miVUYFaH_Wkd0eW0dQRMI3b9eJjI2qR-jPZ6l90lEpFoOJe721h4D6g0o5LaRcKzmAVOUAkwxkFAJQ3uiecSogsm2r-phwdRxb5Gw/s1134/4+South+Africans+3.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0n6Q0jHy3ToQiokKDOee5blAsMzWjIT-qiDbit6miVUYFaH_Wkd0eW0dQRMI3b9eJjI2qR-jPZ6l90lEpFoOJe721h4D6g0o5LaRcKzmAVOUAkwxkFAJQ3uiecSogsm2r-phwdRxb5Gw/w400-h300/4+South+Africans+3.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Finally, here the view from the clivia end of the patch. All three plants are growing in the shade of our frangipani tree, which is bare of foliage right now. You can see the Scadoxus baby plants and their upright clumps of leaves growing happily around the big flowering adult plant. On the left, barely visible, is a tall murraya hedge that shades the plants from the northern sun, so it's shady in here most of the year. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This 'South African' part of the garden is not in deep, dull shade, though. In fact I love to stop here in summer when I am filling up the birdbath with fresh water and have a look inside this tiny 2m x 2m shady zone. Under the full foliage of the frangipani it's like a peaceful little shady forest with bright green light, hopefully somewhere these shade-lovers can grow and thrive for many years to come. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last but not least, I love this little patch of my garden because of the memories it conjurs. As I mentioned earlier, when I see the Velthemia I think of John and Liz, who live almost nearby in Sydney but under these covid restrictions, they're too far away for us to get together.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And when I see the Scadoxus I am reminded of a lovely co-worker, Geoffrey, an expert horticulturist who just bought in a bag of scadoxus bulbs one day and left them on my desk, with a very Geoffrey "see me" note attached. After expert tips on where and how to plant them, they have thrived. I haven't seen Geoffrey for quite a few years now, but I have thought of him often.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And when I look at my little South African patch I think of our dear friend Amanda, who's a whole border crossing away in Kyneton, Victoria. She's a mad keen gardener too, and I'm just hoping that she'll see this little patch of South Africa and think of us, just as we often think of her.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-51787318689774353882021-08-24T10:34:00.000+10:002021-08-24T10:34:02.758+10:00It's citrus feeding time, folks!<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't you just love it when a plan works? I do. Last week, looking at the weather forecast, I spotted the magic word "rain" predicted for Tuesday August 24. And Huey the Rain God didn't let us down. The rain started late yesterday and it's still raining. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A creature of gardening habits, I knew that the weeks spanning the end of August and the beginning of September are the ideal time to fertilise my citrus trees, so it was always at the top of my "to-do" list. All I needed was to wait for a good day of rain to come along, because that way the rain will water in the many handfuls of fertiliser I scattered around my Eureka lemon, Tahitian lime and Thai Makrut lime trees.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">While I was at it and had plenty of fertiliser to spare, I scattered it around all manner of other plants that could do with a boost in spring, but the main game was feeding citrus. If you have a lemon, lime or other citrus tree in your garden, try to get out there over the next few days (showers are forecast through to the weekend) and your citrus trees will reward you with bumper crops.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6oDmTdAbKhkBCD3AFR-6OiyyuJ62tMU3XAtEatiNBfwDcP8iCokPf24FMdfc1Q-XAWD6NeWOOWNgPVPQnAWiqLo4QYMQW8IlJeYPdGfaZWXUQOJgkUoDw3anPbxm726zcBVStaGaHBV8/s1134/1+Soggy+garden+left.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6oDmTdAbKhkBCD3AFR-6OiyyuJ62tMU3XAtEatiNBfwDcP8iCokPf24FMdfc1Q-XAWD6NeWOOWNgPVPQnAWiqLo4QYMQW8IlJeYPdGfaZWXUQOJgkUoDw3anPbxm726zcBVStaGaHBV8/w400-h300/1+Soggy+garden+left.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I love a shiny footpath and water dripping off foliage. It means I have a day off from watering the garden, and I can watch the rain do the last stage of fertilising for me.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmr0fzEo7GFg1_emPHFgXysYZIGTyikX3Lebr4FGNyKTW_0lVwHE6Lj-wlOvod2mmHop7HlUxllHoFvXOGB4kIBIMxLPuIPikjVjpkZ-V6XIFL3_ssuIoIoNDHYHxH_aV-PVeh1LO3QytH/s1134/3+Citrus+flower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmr0fzEo7GFg1_emPHFgXysYZIGTyikX3Lebr4FGNyKTW_0lVwHE6Lj-wlOvod2mmHop7HlUxllHoFvXOGB4kIBIMxLPuIPikjVjpkZ-V6XIFL3_ssuIoIoNDHYHxH_aV-PVeh1LO3QytH/w400-h400/3+Citrus+flower.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Both the lemon tree (pictured) and the lime are covered in flower buds right now, so a big feed is all they need to turn flowers into fruit.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHkYX6qeZ0kM8AFLLcd1lZe2q6COIf3jSoYkVl4qrr_uyTceRfIljDnALPO_E7owMPTeXxJ5UU8VqEmhmk0Ir_PIdihPO35gnRjxVeIsXL10he-rLIQCXvbtoMBHTOzZXcnQ6L4gID4lL/s850/4+Lemons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="850" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHkYX6qeZ0kM8AFLLcd1lZe2q6COIf3jSoYkVl4qrr_uyTceRfIljDnALPO_E7owMPTeXxJ5UU8VqEmhmk0Ir_PIdihPO35gnRjxVeIsXL10he-rLIQCXvbtoMBHTOzZXcnQ6L4gID4lL/w400-h268/4+Lemons.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The Eureka lemon is the ideal variety for Sydney gardens. In cooler climates the Lisbon variety is preferred, while the Meyer lemon is great in pots in all climates.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPTPo78pw3F6aNrBRxFQ1-RMFnYQZ9agB1SbNRrgBJXRvn7hBZUdalDa39h8IZuddJr1iO0R-EuvIs0Gn3YKXRoUNxQmkLcA8YuXRdC7dtGls7HBmd2sUKmT1qrsUdx0fTFamLqDQH_6-/s708/5+Limes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="708" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPTPo78pw3F6aNrBRxFQ1-RMFnYQZ9agB1SbNRrgBJXRvn7hBZUdalDa39h8IZuddJr1iO0R-EuvIs0Gn3YKXRoUNxQmkLcA8YuXRdC7dtGls7HBmd2sUKmT1qrsUdx0fTFamLqDQH_6-/w400-h268/5+Limes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>As is the Tahitian lime the ideal one for Sydney.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5_Som77JZyK2azXb_Bcn2puHc3_h8Nkx_qfYVQHh5GLGwJgvi6zG4MHkatkcZs7PAEvjrQhDvCHC-QM8CgbFSfLZ_CG09UbebOauMW1YTFDnSt1VjAUbKOJuJs40aqoKVUykgd43X5m0/s680/6+Makrut+lime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="680" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5_Som77JZyK2azXb_Bcn2puHc3_h8Nkx_qfYVQHh5GLGwJgvi6zG4MHkatkcZs7PAEvjrQhDvCHC-QM8CgbFSfLZ_CG09UbebOauMW1YTFDnSt1VjAUbKOJuJs40aqoKVUykgd43X5m0/w400-h300/6+Makrut+lime.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>And this wrinkled weirdo is the Thai Makrut lime (also called the Kaffir lime), whose culinary value lies in the grated rind of the fruit (it produces hardly any juice), and the wonderfully aromatic foliage, which I toss into all sorts of South-East Asian curries and stir fries. The Thai lime is a great choice for pots, too, because it's naturally quite small.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_lC6V4OEWba3_bwKS635I-jCKPL361kiPNccW-4lutfLTidkAmiRvULA1y7oXDY7sr-Y9J6IoXyaMRCpiwY9SSQbGpo3lzXLqJeSQ-hICvlGDE0G-UH-7le49_k-051rhVLZs6ickIv8/s709/7+Dynamic+Lifter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="531" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_lC6V4OEWba3_bwKS635I-jCKPL361kiPNccW-4lutfLTidkAmiRvULA1y7oXDY7sr-Y9J6IoXyaMRCpiwY9SSQbGpo3lzXLqJeSQ-hICvlGDE0G-UH-7le49_k-051rhVLZs6ickIv8/w300-h400/7+Dynamic+Lifter.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is my preferred citrus food not only because it's organic-based and the smelly aromas don't last long. It just happened to be what I had in the shed. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Right now it's hard for locked-down gardeners everywhere to visit one of those big Hardware superbarns such as Bunnings. I actually bought my Dynamic Lifter a while back at my local Woolworths Supermarket, so try there if you don't have any in your garden shed at the moment.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There's also a small but well run local garden centre which I support by paying a bit more for the mulch, fertiliser, plants and seeds they stock, and it's still open. So maybe there's a small garden centre near you that is still open, or at least open for a click-and-collect shopping expedition?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In these difficult times, it doesn't really matter what you feed you citrus trees with. Almost any fertiliser I can think of is better than no fertiliser at all. If it says something about "fruit and flowers" then this is the good stuff, but even if the fertiliser just says "general purpose" you are in the citrus-feeding business.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Try to read the instructions on the pack before you get started. If you do your fertilising now, while the ground is wet and more showers are forecast, all you need to do is wait for a break in the rain, get out there like a mad person, laugh at the sky if the neighbours are watching, and scatter the fertiliser around the base of the tree. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't direct the fertiliser at the tree trunk itself — there's no roots there. Instead, spread it out under the whole canopy of the tree, and especially around the ground directly below the outer edge of the canopy (that's called the 'dripline', because that's where most of the rainwater drips onto the ground).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The dripline area is where a healthy tree has oodles of roots. Direct your fertiliser there and let Huey the Rain God do the rest.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And after you've done the job and the poor locked-down neighbours with nothing to do are still watching, permit yourself to send one last chuckle skywards. All your gardening mates will know exactly how you feel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-37254113326412308002021-08-23T16:49:00.001+10:002021-08-24T08:19:00.210+10:00Pam's plants<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">For those of you new to this blog, a little bit of recent history to start with. Late last year I stupidly broke my foot and in the process damaged a bunch of tendons and ligaments in my ankle, and so I was sidelined from gardening for months.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">With my leg in a cast and reduced to camping out on our living room sofa for weeks on end, my intrepid wife Pammy took over garden maintenance duties with a dedication and competence that, quite frankly, surprised and delighted me at the same time. She's a real gardener, and a good one!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pam has always been deeply involved in our garden, but for the first 30 years here it was largely a "hands off" role. I was the one covered in dirt, pulling the weeds and spreading the fertiliser. She was the one who spotted pests and other problems, suggested new plantings, came up with the idea for the complete re-design of the garden about 15 years ago, and turned so many details of our garden into beautiful paintings.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Until Covid struck, our garden had been the venue for many of Pam's art classes, and even after covid limited the numbers of students who could attend, the garden still provided a really lovely venue for small watercolour art classes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, that's the background to who this "Pam" of today's topic, "Pam's plants", is. Ever since we moved here Pam has taken a special interest in certain plants. Sometimes she has straight-out suggested we buy something. Other times she just comes home with a plant in a pot and says "I have an idea where this might go". </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And even if I bought a certain plant, planted it and cared for it, at some time in its life it became one of Pam's plants. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, on with some examples of all these stories of "Pam's plants".<br /><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzuRQgL_bryz9fLp4-gMDf8sS2IMasQDZuFUHH4Pq34Dk8NikPS9GaEZLYx6dtJG5RpxqHvTDCyvL3jCUY99BfJ4TUCIN9tTaA5gYM5aTvtWWreQCEWhw076AQONUMyzOFHaRc7AWnj0u/s1134/%2524+Convolvulus+cneorum+A.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzuRQgL_bryz9fLp4-gMDf8sS2IMasQDZuFUHH4Pq34Dk8NikPS9GaEZLYx6dtJG5RpxqHvTDCyvL3jCUY99BfJ4TUCIN9tTaA5gYM5aTvtWWreQCEWhw076AQONUMyzOFHaRc7AWnj0u/w400-h300/%2524+Convolvulus+cneorum+A.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Thank goodness this person started flowering just this morning, right on time for this blog posting. This is Convolvulus cneorum, and around the middle of last year, Pam came to me with a newspaper advertisement from Flower Power nursery, with the photo of Convolvulus cneorum circled, and asked "can we buy this?". </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Given it was in the middle of a not very strict set of covid restrictions on shopping etc, I knew this wasn't an ordinary request. Bought it home, planted it in a sunny spot, and it then proceeded to flower its head off with these charmingly simple white disc flowers with a yellow splash in the centre. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then it did the unexpected and faded, wilted, looked a bit sick, sickened a bit more, wilted a touch more ... and the conversation had to be had. Do you think it will survive? Let's give it another week or two. It was never going to be my decision to give up on it. It was one of Pam's plants ...</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thank goodness we gave it a reprieve, as it bounced back in autumn, kept on growing a bit in winter in a weird, leggy kind of way, and now in early spring it's flowering. Yay! </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LYmWWABhmSY_2_RjPXJM1BGEG_SsI9smmWCltVWHk_VJtcjcv1CgVV5zxx6xGo1x_j_WdEmpmmMO8F3XywEPdgtiCZzdjF1ZOX8G4GGd_Cz0lLT5BKFHhIzjGhNlg4OGwCFkRnpVO0x1/s1134/1+Kalanchoe+hanging+basket.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LYmWWABhmSY_2_RjPXJM1BGEG_SsI9smmWCltVWHk_VJtcjcv1CgVV5zxx6xGo1x_j_WdEmpmmMO8F3XywEPdgtiCZzdjF1ZOX8G4GGd_Cz0lLT5BKFHhIzjGhNlg4OGwCFkRnpVO0x1/w400-h400/1+Kalanchoe+hanging+basket.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Pam recently brought this dazzler home from a local florist's shop, saying that our main frangipani tree, bare of foliage and flowers in mid-winter, was a good spot for a hanging basket of flowering Kalanchoe. It's the first thing you see when you enter the garden.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OmQaCblalOSTiCzvyy8PoiDFFCMicgpJBsh45reavTj85S-cRil6YcJllnRyfWpwHxeeLur7uZSHfxFt5JDCIUewwrR_uTy-fxKV49U5GuhBcGZvnKYpMQwKzNP0qsGZsZNJiWFK3bGX/s1134/2+Nasturtium+leaf.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OmQaCblalOSTiCzvyy8PoiDFFCMicgpJBsh45reavTj85S-cRil6YcJllnRyfWpwHxeeLur7uZSHfxFt5JDCIUewwrR_uTy-fxKV49U5GuhBcGZvnKYpMQwKzNP0qsGZsZNJiWFK3bGX/w400-h400/2+Nasturtium+leaf.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Pam has always loved nasturtiums and I've largely resisted growing them, because they spread and, well ... basically they are pleasant looking weeds. But as her reward for being such a great gardener during my long convalescence, I bought her a packet of nasturtium seeds, and said "you can plant these and let's see what happens". Well, nasturtiums happened, that's what! They do look nice with raindrops on them in the morning.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisznkgetHW_5-IBhxu7JqWHd-DN-QM8SokGoFpq-KpL0-XiMitZTxW4HpUctv1boI9GmwoDfMq6ME18ImbjSrC51SzQYAubMsJ_Gcx5hsTLAHwryPiwJW1-qtLWVoVVSEsc9BmhZsAQsZV/s1134/3+Nasturtium+flowers.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisznkgetHW_5-IBhxu7JqWHd-DN-QM8SokGoFpq-KpL0-XiMitZTxW4HpUctv1boI9GmwoDfMq6ME18ImbjSrC51SzQYAubMsJ_Gcx5hsTLAHwryPiwJW1-qtLWVoVVSEsc9BmhZsAQsZV/w400-h400/3+Nasturtium+flowers.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>And the flowers produced by our little seed packets come in quite a variety, and they are a favourite subject for Pam's watercolour art students too. They love wandering out into the garden, picking a flower, then doing a painting of it. Good for the soul, painting.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqv42FMbsL3vSidYMFrc6Iv_tlZ5P_IJ4TUdi7EpODNIqrAh3DBpyU_dv6grTGGQwTPebYSNaVJqMU5J3rpQxNaMbT6GUb1ABoSFnW8IS1AaYuB0iCLtwUKzkdtKdVYYZ39z_IQI75lYE6/s1134/4+Spanish+moss+1.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqv42FMbsL3vSidYMFrc6Iv_tlZ5P_IJ4TUdi7EpODNIqrAh3DBpyU_dv6grTGGQwTPebYSNaVJqMU5J3rpQxNaMbT6GUb1ABoSFnW8IS1AaYuB0iCLtwUKzkdtKdVYYZ39z_IQI75lYE6/w400-h400/4+Spanish+moss+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Ever since Pam and I visited the United States in 2011, she has been in love with Spanish moss. All through the Deep South you'd see masses of this ghostly grey "air plant" draped over the branches of giant live oak trees. The streets of Savannah, Georgia, are one of the most unforgettable things I have ever seen on my travels. We came home in love with a plant, and it's been in our garden ever since.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtm-vQWtG8LapBqY9D3TvgFcTBZxlB3z8KgGd6hg_GkhHWR_5Cz2DSXRzsIcO7LyNHe1iwMQTO2_e1oKSkOB1lL2cZAbeYwDFnleWqaYm9f2YCpAyMXi3nGAQuwmd9-hf97v9THS39pyMS/s708/4a+Spanish+moss+bloom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="708" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtm-vQWtG8LapBqY9D3TvgFcTBZxlB3z8KgGd6hg_GkhHWR_5Cz2DSXRzsIcO7LyNHe1iwMQTO2_e1oKSkOB1lL2cZAbeYwDFnleWqaYm9f2YCpAyMXi3nGAQuwmd9-hf97v9THS39pyMS/w400-h370/4a+Spanish+moss+bloom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The flowers of Spanish moss are so tiny, about a quarter of an inch across (that's about 5mm) and so Pam's gorgeously detailed painting of a Spanish moss bloom celebrates our garden's tiniest flower by allowing you a glimpse into its small but perfectly formed beauty. Time for a shameless plug, but if you want to see more of Pam's work, pop over to Instagram where she is at @pamelahorsnellartist</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrtZnKv5IUKOx5CgfzzmlwdMjyhkZIpkEcs978Pi5y4U2uLxYoZ088_bPaMrtYPP6sJYWl_CAbroFM5yUIgNpn4NQF3SEW1X_Je4JE5MXf1lUlgjAlEvsVstDruQqbIMX1rBwB_2-AzBa/w400-h300/5+Frangipani+flower+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Bending the rules slightly here, as our main frangipani tree has no leaves, no flowers and is still asleep. But it's the biggest of Pam's plants in our garden. She loves this frangipani ...</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPrtZnKv5IUKOx5CgfzzmlwdMjyhkZIpkEcs978Pi5y4U2uLxYoZ088_bPaMrtYPP6sJYWl_CAbroFM5yUIgNpn4NQF3SEW1X_Je4JE5MXf1lUlgjAlEvsVstDruQqbIMX1rBwB_2-AzBa/s850/5+Frangipani+flower+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-pEujaTbsokPvUj47LPJeHOIHybWkG5X6573Fy6jxa-fVKuyRdMpRmvDIHDcHsGYFu3C-kfckD3YA6Z4wS-ShoQB6kdCK3pnXNxvbH0TMIKyWF-gm66VKGgh72v9Ke6kfi_NnFZk1Jpl/s850/6+Frangipani+Serendipity+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-pEujaTbsokPvUj47LPJeHOIHybWkG5X6573Fy6jxa-fVKuyRdMpRmvDIHDcHsGYFu3C-kfckD3YA6Z4wS-ShoQB6kdCK3pnXNxvbH0TMIKyWF-gm66VKGgh72v9Ke6kfi_NnFZk1Jpl/w400-h300/6+Frangipani+Serendipity+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>... and she also adores this colourful frangi (also bare in winter) that she brought home from the nearby art studio, called the Bakehouse Studio, where she teaches painting. The parent of this tree is in the backyard at the Bakehouse Studio, so when they trimmed it back one year they turned them into lovely big cuttings which they sold to raise funds for a local school. Pam had always had her eye on this frangipani tree, so she brought it home. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-RO8girfEJDT-EsKYXvKWAyGdsEHKIqBL63UnrrvctKPiMVXcX_jwKU6wsgIKG4-ebYJdu6swtnbMIivWht1uvRBZ1Xc-HOWSh9QlFx1GiZg7X2Fu6M7Vzb4j-DeWKQ2GCsldkDB16PNp/s2048/7+NSW+Xmas+bush.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-RO8girfEJDT-EsKYXvKWAyGdsEHKIqBL63UnrrvctKPiMVXcX_jwKU6wsgIKG4-ebYJdu6swtnbMIivWht1uvRBZ1Xc-HOWSh9QlFx1GiZg7X2Fu6M7Vzb4j-DeWKQ2GCsldkDB16PNp/w400-h300/7+NSW+Xmas+bush.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Like the frangipani trees, our New South Wales Christmas bush is not in flower, but it is definitely one of Pam's plants. This poor thing has been having a great time in its pot for the last few years, but it took ages to find a spot where it was truly happy, and every time it was unhappy, where pests attacked it, or the tree itself just looked sick, Pam was onto me. "It's not happy, what's wrong? Let's move it somewhere else? Is that pot big enough? She's taken a special interest in its welfare, and it's rewarding her with better and better colour shows each year.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCyF6Q4Kg6M_0QdzYlJf9I4rtFj0vx2Ycu0PhRx0KKmOZXqv1NjqxZnqe7zvRdrOMaWPxxJsq5_vf76FkY-_ib7Zs99M_qfF0lS77tmRIRKPYZbvAaJCxl56yzZiifnyZH3D_X22xazbM/s850/8+Lemon+grass+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCyF6Q4Kg6M_0QdzYlJf9I4rtFj0vx2Ycu0PhRx0KKmOZXqv1NjqxZnqe7zvRdrOMaWPxxJsq5_vf76FkY-_ib7Zs99M_qfF0lS77tmRIRKPYZbvAaJCxl56yzZiifnyZH3D_X22xazbM/w300-h400/8+Lemon+grass+2.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Finally, one of the most recent additions to the roster of Pam's plants is this gorgeous, fragrant jungle of lemon grass. When we planted it, it wasn't an official "Pam plant". It just grew like mad and every now and then we'd cut a stalk when the Asian recipe we were cooking called for lemon grass stalks, chopped. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xz-4o9lMIzT2yMqMwOX273uh8gd1DPDU0BJCOhP0AWX4z-0Hp86naeRSnl1FF1S_Yh26xW5Q44xYbK-URtc7a-QEZy4zRPwJ8z9q2Ob1Yw8tiX7Im1GSmbdXDnWJ8EvLEMzo778E0ImL/s2048/9+Lemon+grass+flower+spikes.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xz-4o9lMIzT2yMqMwOX273uh8gd1DPDU0BJCOhP0AWX4z-0Hp86naeRSnl1FF1S_Yh26xW5Q44xYbK-URtc7a-QEZy4zRPwJ8z9q2Ob1Yw8tiX7Im1GSmbdXDnWJ8EvLEMzo778E0ImL/w400-h300/9+Lemon+grass+flower+spikes.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Then, late last year, when my leg was in a cast, I was sidelined and Pam was looking after the garden, the lemon grass needed cutting back. It looked wonderful though, sending up super tall grassy flower spikes high into the air. But to keep the lemon grass clump down to a manageable size and keep it producing those juicy stalks, it needed cutting back. "I guess we could get someone in to do it" I foolishly suggested. "Nonsense, what do you have to do?" </i></span><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"> </i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And that's when the lemon grass became Pam's plant. After describing what was involved in cutting back the big, tall, unruly clump of tropical grass, I thought I had put Pam off the idea of doing it herself. Then one morning I could hear telltale sounds coming from the garden. Clip, snip, clip clip. Foliage rustling. More clipping ... she was in there! The clump was a decent size, made up of three plants. It'd be no surprise if a tiger sprang out of the foliage in a surprise manoeuvre.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But in no time at all Pam had conquered the lemon grass clump, reducing the jungle from six feet tall down to a clump of obedient 12-inch stumps.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That photo of the lemon grass flower heads was taken this morning. I'm almost of a mind to ask Pam if, come October, when it's time to cut it back again, would Pam like to do the honours?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm afraid those days are over. She has proven that there's no job she can't tackle in the garden. It's just that with a willing fool standing next to her who's keen as mustard to get stuck into all the gardening jobs, why would she?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">No, we're back to our happy zone. Me covered in dirt, her keeping an eye on things.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-32427860951593217762021-08-22T12:29:00.006+10:002021-08-29T10:00:59.441+10:00Sydney's first pops of spring<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One of the great things about gardening in Sydney is that winter is still a time for growing things, planting and enjoying a few pretty blooms that like to flower in the cooler months. None of that cliched bleak snowy winter malarky down here!<br /><br />Then again, we still do get the best of both worlds, in that there's a genuine burst of energy that accompanies the longer sunshine hours and warming temperatures of spring. So here's just a small selection of what's blooming here right now.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can't show you all of them because I have postings lined up for later in the week about Pammy's plants, some of which are flowering now. And there's also a posting on the plants belonging to Pam's lovely old mum, and they're flowering too. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-3RqN5gip8R5V3CJsy-7tw0M1hNzdT32f3ldlVi1lvzyL4tzTQRFIJsIMUrBomZpCjBWly0X7oEP5RXLLiuJd0SuJ3LlTktW2GzVvE9PaOHkAraGRsa3jS9romdH-KpnIBtnwnfNzfGEDBfK14ZXZxj26LxQEGglUQjyjcU9om4yqYRK1s3OrNOpbjg=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-3RqN5gip8R5V3CJsy-7tw0M1hNzdT32f3ldlVi1lvzyL4tzTQRFIJsIMUrBomZpCjBWly0X7oEP5RXLLiuJd0SuJ3LlTktW2GzVvE9PaOHkAraGRsa3jS9romdH-KpnIBtnwnfNzfGEDBfK14ZXZxj26LxQEGglUQjyjcU9om4yqYRK1s3OrNOpbjg=w400-h300" width="400" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our Australian native Dendrobium orchids are flowering their heads off this spring, and it's with a real sense of relief that I say that — because they didn't flower at all last year, and that was because an awful orchid beetle was chomping everything it could find. Such rotten timing, too, you rotten little orchid chomper!</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4Mvm9fm8LXcrH88yUzNbh-DzlASZSMNyl7eC2Sz1EF0rzMuHXWU6Wmd5KFMhzdEW4sNAcqPkHxdkdNYt4ldo7_ZIAkYyvlij7p8mB7DiTGnEgXG-hqpezG2lWfgPtd1r78_-dUweGxUxgAWj8K1y_2J56Y-ONBAa2RHwLFO1UveSQw6Jo_qJ2eQMjyg=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4Mvm9fm8LXcrH88yUzNbh-DzlASZSMNyl7eC2Sz1EF0rzMuHXWU6Wmd5KFMhzdEW4sNAcqPkHxdkdNYt4ldo7_ZIAkYyvlij7p8mB7DiTGnEgXG-hqpezG2lWfgPtd1r78_-dUweGxUxgAWj8K1y_2J56Y-ONBAa2RHwLFO1UveSQw6Jo_qJ2eQMjyg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>The rotten part about the orchid beetles is that when I looked up in my garden pest reference book, it seemed there was little I could do, especially if I'm dedicated to organic methods. Bugger! So this year as the flower buds swelled I was out there, not sure what I was looking for, but I was out there anyway! Maybe I scared them off? One of the side effects of this lockdown season is a lack of haircuts and beard trims from my barber, so maybe I was just so scary looking that the beetles snuck away?</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZuXDNMKvNTc-ThRweIY3Grk2Zg6BlRp6Bh_szttN37XwGu2pYdafDfH_spvW5wEDKN3mkgyCb_J1WC2PhsGTe1EmvbNhKjvw9rDRPF6FOI2mVvXBwM7RIp3Mc1LVFdSsJ50VdST8yUkRmpRWw10Fbi0PCJ2ipEhzpJ9DI9VvfnzVp-Vx24fZuHmAgQQ=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZuXDNMKvNTc-ThRweIY3Grk2Zg6BlRp6Bh_szttN37XwGu2pYdafDfH_spvW5wEDKN3mkgyCb_J1WC2PhsGTe1EmvbNhKjvw9rDRPF6FOI2mVvXBwM7RIp3Mc1LVFdSsJ50VdST8yUkRmpRWw10Fbi0PCJ2ipEhzpJ9DI9VvfnzVp-Vx24fZuHmAgQQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>There was no need to worry about chomping beetles tucking into our Pieris japonica blooms.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ32ayZpeD4jiWs06vmOj_DxQmRUF6zKl2fuMZfg0NvUme4xoI55kFvu9YnZBApwlvE24STIsVbbPHwQdtDNUPZKtwfa3rz9OxgnA5ZdMtIA27ggz3AOMXHu45xCaFG9gzKH0LrCMQb8LIvzLnEMtcNPT67sBTryLoTDDzaHmmauBPmC8aJ-dV45wO5A=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ32ayZpeD4jiWs06vmOj_DxQmRUF6zKl2fuMZfg0NvUme4xoI55kFvu9YnZBApwlvE24STIsVbbPHwQdtDNUPZKtwfa3rz9OxgnA5ZdMtIA27ggz3AOMXHu45xCaFG9gzKH0LrCMQb8LIvzLnEMtcNPT67sBTryLoTDDzaHmmauBPmC8aJ-dV45wO5A=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This little potted plant is a fighter. It does best in cooler zones (my friends Eric and Jane up in the cool Blue Mountains west of Sydney have glorious big Pieris hedges.) But down here on the humid coast the Pieris struggles through our summers. I have it growing in a pot so I can move it from here to there as the seasons change. Right now it's getting all the morning sun it wants. Later on, I'll give it more shade as summer's intensity ramps up. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCU_R5B8xK0XyC3U9QxmD8GrTEEAEeLTA1dx2ezk9YdBN0uADVX3DTDl7oCBOkovHZrV006t3IhJxSA6u3U27PlpbWTb2Lxa_AYW8xpc_ZyJvWG8A0ABS45BPOeS4s2eARJ4FUqyos4E7VHahkvfKgJeP-Ww_dCc59wmaGMD7nbfE0K0Rt1wCGip-P4w=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCU_R5B8xK0XyC3U9QxmD8GrTEEAEeLTA1dx2ezk9YdBN0uADVX3DTDl7oCBOkovHZrV006t3IhJxSA6u3U27PlpbWTb2Lxa_AYW8xpc_ZyJvWG8A0ABS45BPOeS4s2eARJ4FUqyos4E7VHahkvfKgJeP-Ww_dCc59wmaGMD7nbfE0K0Rt1wCGip-P4w=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Look carefully at this photo of one of our hellebores. Yes, it's a bit blurry, so I was about to go outside and take a better one, but then I noticed sitting on top of the big green leaf was the hellebore plant's resident spider, the concierge, wanting to know what the hell I was doing. I'd been there for more than an hour weeding and mulching, and he had just about had enough of me. So, I decided that he was perfectly entitled to photo-bomb me!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7AUtItCaFjPpQFONh8s3S0zqkVRLBRMZ4fVl1pS6rRgssuLgQA3HTvEDadv4d7hcvB7T2TtgrcmbVDUrQtbvuZOo7KHMNSL_a_XXpez7HQ0zxd7r08JWqUdMSlqsaGOkHGR6gbTlA8VwVD4uxwrjf7eoeygF0dxpdujKAjGgdApP3BYQK6jFNzQAB0Q=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1134" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7AUtItCaFjPpQFONh8s3S0zqkVRLBRMZ4fVl1pS6rRgssuLgQA3HTvEDadv4d7hcvB7T2TtgrcmbVDUrQtbvuZOo7KHMNSL_a_XXpez7HQ0zxd7r08JWqUdMSlqsaGOkHGR6gbTlA8VwVD4uxwrjf7eoeygF0dxpdujKAjGgdApP3BYQK6jFNzQAB0Q=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Here's the fruits of a rare venture in online plant shopping: baby hellebores looking quite healthy and happy but no flowers yet. Maybe next year, but nice to know the kids are all right.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggPp4tEy7Tu92uRMaaoL_DieKW-LvAbHRuJH3YOXD5PBoUOzey23s9_aENfru7Zab7N9LBnvJm8jtnZ6aQCvqbGkFzeP7tYO5pc4bIxnzVL0hdR7p1AFspra9QCqrwIheKrgwuTUoA3FikTJNMVt0JP7FkWjRbPPufzRc23nTShIeE16IYBQpkzq8ZqQ=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggPp4tEy7Tu92uRMaaoL_DieKW-LvAbHRuJH3YOXD5PBoUOzey23s9_aENfru7Zab7N9LBnvJm8jtnZ6aQCvqbGkFzeP7tYO5pc4bIxnzVL0hdR7p1AFspra9QCqrwIheKrgwuTUoA3FikTJNMVt0JP7FkWjRbPPufzRc23nTShIeE16IYBQpkzq8ZqQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Finally, two plants which have admittedly been flowering all through winter and are still looking fabulous in spring. Now I am not certain exactly what type of bromeliad it is. Its botanical name is Aechmea fasciata, and it came to me via a lovely neighbour who was moving house. He came across to my place several years ago, told me he and his husband were downsizing and so they couldn't take all their plants with them. Would I like this one? I've never repotted it, fed it, cared for it or anything. As it's next door to my potted lime tree which I water often, the bromeliad does get watered often, and it loves life. I think it actually started flowering last autumn ... but time is getting very blurry around here. It just goes on and on and on ...</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8HE9eFbyWNJ-OnyZ5JyeAr6fOt5oEuEQhuY54DGQxf-8e_4hkAVm_g1Q5sya3FFzxedsSWEFTaw9899JkMFIoaRFVerbZUibUgOej6vJzZTCWjdFtfbLx2Xny8GWlytAp_8RVjzqdvzYVlcssfqfeKXv27BAw5Q1rjBN79PCyoyUn-rMLNefb4qZ4BA=w300-h400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>What a modest claim to fame: "Plant of the Century". That's what the label says (see below). It's a real geranium (ie not a pelargonium) and its name is 'Rozanne', voted Plant of the Century by some mob called the Royal Horticultural Society. It certainly loves to flower, and it's been flowering ever since I bought it at our local garden centre at the beginning of winter. And it doesn't look like stopping any time soon. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi8HE9eFbyWNJ-OnyZ5JyeAr6fOt5oEuEQhuY54DGQxf-8e_4hkAVm_g1Q5sya3FFzxedsSWEFTaw9899JkMFIoaRFVerbZUibUgOej6vJzZTCWjdFtfbLx2Xny8GWlytAp_8RVjzqdvzYVlcssfqfeKXv27BAw5Q1rjBN79PCyoyUn-rMLNefb4qZ4BA=s1134" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8MZ0OQlGXkzeUH5VATXmQBisn2476aWmkPdOjIaRL-w98SFircVB9I-mFjxRJIABXrC8ZOr8EgMzRUwbn3VDb3NoRHnywzmH5ERUheyoalBRpR7moi_FRpn4lYPmQk9vvxE5S3Lk1F3-8QIUqNwTfjqrwFct68kH59A_9hykhOeqTKHolFLBrCKCEwg=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8MZ0OQlGXkzeUH5VATXmQBisn2476aWmkPdOjIaRL-w98SFircVB9I-mFjxRJIABXrC8ZOr8EgMzRUwbn3VDb3NoRHnywzmH5ERUheyoalBRpR7moi_FRpn4lYPmQk9vvxE5S3Lk1F3-8QIUqNwTfjqrwFct68kH59A_9hykhOeqTKHolFLBrCKCEwg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>There you go, a plant label that catches the eye with sheer modesty</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguXsxD2ZZFjiTcXmTTOYWB91taxH0c0XrH-scIWsNJiSUoGkl52_FcTSdwdArLwOZWHwLURsXIEz1thd6fNjvLdWJZtFKKYqAm6NstvYERIbIl8PDvvM6FFF8rqlwJ58Cue-EMGBYjXKYTOIfgn1AKG6xJ93X1LgXpht_84iOzBbrC7nTwAAPbKhbk6Q=s1134" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguXsxD2ZZFjiTcXmTTOYWB91taxH0c0XrH-scIWsNJiSUoGkl52_FcTSdwdArLwOZWHwLURsXIEz1thd6fNjvLdWJZtFKKYqAm6NstvYERIbIl8PDvvM6FFF8rqlwJ58Cue-EMGBYjXKYTOIfgn1AKG6xJ93X1LgXpht_84iOzBbrC7nTwAAPbKhbk6Q=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>And if you can read the back of the label it says the plant should grow to 50cm high (20 inches) and 60cm wide (two feet). Pam asked me this morning "Is it a groundcover?" because it's still hugging the ground while slowly spreading out in all directions. I await its decision to suddenly shoot up to that lofty 50cm size, but this certainly is the most delightful flowering plant I have met in ages. The deliciously pretty flowers just keep on coming, and coming and coming. If you see one in a garden store, buy it! I should have bought two ...</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So there you go, folks, our springtime show and tell. It's all happening here right now, beautiful weather this Sunday to be out there in the garden, even if all you're doing is reading a book, snoozing or maybe just thinking "I guess I could do a bit of gardening sometime soon."</span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-49965319732988351132021-08-21T11:01:00.002+10:002021-08-29T09:59:45.295+10:00Greetings from Locked Down Sydney!<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's been a long time (April 21) since I posted anything here in my gardening blog, which is semi-retired, just like me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But as I finished this morning's final phase of the "weed then mulch" marathon, it occurred to me that it might help pass the time, maybe also provide some inspiration for gardeners who are cooped up at home due to covid lockdown restrictions, if I posted something here.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So what I plan to do every few days is to post something from my garden that I hope might of be interest, and maybe even motivate you to get out in the sunshine, which is good for both your mental and physical health (if you wear a hat!).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">For starters, I'm starting off with a pair of panoramas of my freshly weeded and mulched garden, as it always looks very nice after new mulch has been spread around. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNtB5UKJtTy4A639rcCNOlImMAC3bWIo6MUDd0e2fXlQDUJODgP3aQUbPIDQD7HaiH2yaMmU5WCsYl0lPlaiqL_wADDDGlhiqnNAzSGyoQqfTKqwQMD1DI22o4-2-4OP2qie-VncubuKSc13clCAueE2CBtSLux27KhX-RhM5lGbop9gUfuGyK2_-yQw=s1134" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1134" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNtB5UKJtTy4A639rcCNOlImMAC3bWIo6MUDd0e2fXlQDUJODgP3aQUbPIDQD7HaiH2yaMmU5WCsYl0lPlaiqL_wADDDGlhiqnNAzSGyoQqfTKqwQMD1DI22o4-2-4OP2qie-VncubuKSc13clCAueE2CBtSLux27KhX-RhM5lGbop9gUfuGyK2_-yQw=w400-h320" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Mid August and both the frangipanis are asleep, so it looks a bit bare. In the foreground the bonsai curry leaf tree has enjoyed the winter, and in the right foreground the strawberry patch is flowering and looking promising. That's Pam's nasturtium patch middle-left, and middle right is the hardest working part of the garden, the pots of rosemary and thyme.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmc3Pha4KuHXg-dwddeEa0p97td_tP76AamJowrUgrbfS9pM2FRY-HUIgbEcm5oFkZ7PDMd_RD5MxQqXtmVtvLwoo6SNBT-OYmP9462U_UPh4RrwtQTqQv8bg6hREjpOSxoXXDQ_QjLGPuPOj6_9B2TzwSB0pfGvYFyYJj0Pjt0_S9AZFk1grbmDR7tQ=s1134" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="1134" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmc3Pha4KuHXg-dwddeEa0p97td_tP76AamJowrUgrbfS9pM2FRY-HUIgbEcm5oFkZ7PDMd_RD5MxQqXtmVtvLwoo6SNBT-OYmP9462U_UPh4RrwtQTqQv8bg6hREjpOSxoXXDQ_QjLGPuPOj6_9B2TzwSB0pfGvYFyYJj0Pjt0_S9AZFk1grbmDR7tQ=w400-h264" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>On the right ride of the garden is another of Pam's nasturtium patches, while behind them the Geranium 'Big Red' patch continues on its merry spreading way. The only care it needs is cutting back. Right foreground, the remains of our two very productive broccoli plants. The stumpy/stalky one on the right looks like that because this week we cut off all the leaves and cooked them up, Southern USA "collard greens" style — and they were delicious.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So that's your introductory guided tour. In coming days I have lots of spring flowers to show you, plus some garden jobs to do now, lots of problems in the succulent patch, South Africans at their glorious best, Pam's mum's garden refugees, crops on the go, garden critters, and I am sure several more things that I'll come across as spring warms up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hang in there locked-down gardeners! If you have a garden, even if it's just some pots on a balcony, they're the perfect project to take on now. Spring is well and truly in the air, the temperatures are rising so any effort you put into getting plants to grow will be rapidly — and beautifully — rewarded.</span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-45448001246823299942021-02-07T09:31:00.001+11:002021-02-07T09:31:19.042+11:00Pam's perfect pumpkins<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Gosh, my last posting here was back in November, with a photo of my foot in a cast and an update on how I am doing no gardening at all.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, some things have changed, but I'm still not doing any gardening (I'll explain later) but that doesn't mean there is no gardening being done here this sunny Sydney summer. In fact, yesterday was harvest time and what a wonderful discovery our harvest provided for us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdP6f4EXbRFoJ2D-LOOaS-GttNciu8RP-ENcfTa-J1gCYa6BAuFRfWUsH1wOXksB1tnCTEuG_sqgNS9ZPTRUMhDF_tOkjK3mjpZOMsy_1i51w8TDMq_ztcH782gt9Csa2QbN1BGSbuUuIq/s2048/Pumpkins+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdP6f4EXbRFoJ2D-LOOaS-GttNciu8RP-ENcfTa-J1gCYa6BAuFRfWUsH1wOXksB1tnCTEuG_sqgNS9ZPTRUMhDF_tOkjK3mjpZOMsy_1i51w8TDMq_ztcH782gt9Csa2QbN1BGSbuUuIq/w400-h300/Pumpkins+5.JPG" title="Two beautiful Jap pumpkins, found hiding deep inside the pumpkin patch, unknown to us." width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Two beautiful Jap pumpkins, found hiding deep within the pumpkin patch.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now, these are definitely Pam's pumpkins. She found them while clearing away the pumpkin vine. Over the last few months we'd been through various phases of growing our first pumpkin plant. These are:</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />1. Planting just one little seedling. That cute little baby couldn't possibly take over and cause chaos? Surely not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. The joy of watching children grow up so rapidly. That brief phase lasted about a fortnight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. The realisation that everything they said about pumpkins taking over is true! (Time for a photo, I think).</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgBVBPjtjSsUaCfNgX-8MI3jKxy5rRQ9B6Bvzj0UBqKmqj4dyccXcYw5nY19D4e1oQJf_16xXWxdK6cEG1MM9XE0okw5AFDMWCgbdbcervRaycQogc1GJmkfNji8mJAxdxWxJ0M4QysCo/s850/Rampant+pumpkin+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="631" data-original-width="850" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFgBVBPjtjSsUaCfNgX-8MI3jKxy5rRQ9B6Bvzj0UBqKmqj4dyccXcYw5nY19D4e1oQJf_16xXWxdK6cEG1MM9XE0okw5AFDMWCgbdbcervRaycQogc1GJmkfNji8mJAxdxWxJ0M4QysCo/w400-h297/Rampant+pumpkin+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>At the peak of its takeover, if you blindfolded yourself, got out your camera and took some random backyard photos, there's every chance a pumpkin would be the main thing you'd see.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. The sudden, other, realisation that the enormous roaming giant of a thing isn't actually producing any pumpkins at all! I tried hand-pollinating by using a paintbrush to take pollen from male flowers to female flowers, but as my injured foot cannot yet walk on any uneven surfaces, I had to limit myself to parts of the pumpkin vine that were next to the path. As a backyard sex worker, I was a dud. Z-grade jigolo!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. The sad decision that while the foliage still looked kinda great, it was actually harming every plant it monstered. So it was time for Godzilla the pumpkin vine to spend the rest of its days in the green recycling bin.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course it was the amazing Pammy who did all that hard work. She donned my gardening gloves to stop prickles making a mess of her hands, and with the help of her secateurs she chopped away at Godzilla, showing no fear. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And that's when she discovered her first pumpkin.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqH5eUREr2oHC5V4I4gu197_J_fsqKaaiXZB6iu4B6Q_L8LzSJBEQ29zcDk6fvOCatSXG_n4XVnRoZrbIQvtngLuG_MSiU1B1ZahRwgLAB96WMgbhQMlKMSL1BfNuh7RaydVgalLd39Lq/s2048/Pumpkins+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqH5eUREr2oHC5V4I4gu197_J_fsqKaaiXZB6iu4B6Q_L8LzSJBEQ29zcDk6fvOCatSXG_n4XVnRoZrbIQvtngLuG_MSiU1B1ZahRwgLAB96WMgbhQMlKMSL1BfNuh7RaydVgalLd39Lq/w400-h300/Pumpkins+7.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>It was over by the side fence, sitting on a drainage grate, so the underside was dry and in perfect condition. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">As more of the pumpkin vine came out of the garden, Pammy found her second prize fruit, also in perfect condition.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now, I know the theory of harvesting and ripening pumpkins is that you're meant to wait till the vine dies back a bit more, and for the stem to start looking wrinkly at ready to let go of the vine, but we don't really care.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That's because Pam immediately comandeered the pumpkins as suitable still life subjects for the watercolour art classes she teaches (find her on Instagram at @pamelahorsnellartist if you're interested in learning how to paint in watercolours, by the way).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">While we both love cooking and eating pumpkins in all sorts of ways, these special home-grown ones won't be finding their way into a roasting pan, soup pot, wok or frying pan anytime soon. If I want to cook up some pumpkin, our local supermarket has plenty to choose from.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so that's the perfect summary of how our garden is growing right now. Pam is doing ALL the work, I am hardly doing anything. My broken right foot is healing steadily, the cast is off my foot, I am getting around on a walking stick, and I can do lots of simple domestic chores such as cooking, washing up, hanging clothes on the line and I even can go shopping at the supermarket. But to do all that I need smooth, level perfect floors. Any uneven ground, like lawns or garden soil, are filled with ankle-twisting pain, so I am staying away from danger for another month or two, at least.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can now at least water the garden every morning, standing on the path with a hose in my hand, but Pam has been doing all the other gardening jobs, and really getting stuck into it some days. So to finish off, here's a few general shots of Garden Amateur land this summer of 2021, brought to you by my darling Pammy.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDDuooZaF2P9CSajoJ6Ahe06N8WuFufTl-w_YPFP_YbThNf0BZNsZI8nK1uZ2sC5v34brxWyIgJc-D8m24CNCFEajH323_dzPRfxGV5UH-mbSjQMi_NdqjMraecfR4IXt6H9jL6lxwNQa/s850/22-1-21+garden+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDDuooZaF2P9CSajoJ6Ahe06N8WuFufTl-w_YPFP_YbThNf0BZNsZI8nK1uZ2sC5v34brxWyIgJc-D8m24CNCFEajH323_dzPRfxGV5UH-mbSjQMi_NdqjMraecfR4IXt6H9jL6lxwNQa/w400-h400/22-1-21+garden+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrsagdV73zwajrj8r6qdP-CtKAer430aJADelqipKOhq0AM2v_T9Py6fAhYqFicKhWFyhyphenhyphen0mQ2zsHQzZdBqRulsNi-si4zb4YXkel4MTMvdXmCWC0Mm2hLv-aGH6UMhALv43enuZErcnh/s850/22-1-21+garden+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrsagdV73zwajrj8r6qdP-CtKAer430aJADelqipKOhq0AM2v_T9Py6fAhYqFicKhWFyhyphenhyphen0mQ2zsHQzZdBqRulsNi-si4zb4YXkel4MTMvdXmCWC0Mm2hLv-aGH6UMhALv43enuZErcnh/w400-h400/22-1-21+garden+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzrPK_FK1CA1JWDesr0ytz-jnbihSFjEpd4fmj8Eb7rz8Ib46YczZPT7hThEBmOKOG9NqtBznh_zSI2A45rW8PWLxujSo45EFRXLUALJGv8fKvUZVsMAktccTybXZ95BxlSZkO-Ira6qW/s850/Frangipani+Serendipity+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzrPK_FK1CA1JWDesr0ytz-jnbihSFjEpd4fmj8Eb7rz8Ib46YczZPT7hThEBmOKOG9NqtBznh_zSI2A45rW8PWLxujSo45EFRXLUALJGv8fKvUZVsMAktccTybXZ95BxlSZkO-Ira6qW/w400-h300/Frangipani+Serendipity+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-64310367075406181142020-11-27T11:00:00.006+11:002020-11-27T11:07:58.659+11:00The kindness of good people<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I wasn't planning on doing an update on how my broken bones are healing, but today started with a knock at the door and a very pleasant surprise that gave me an idea for this blog posting about kindness.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCffRtrCNgsCaCWEcrl0PUXtZ_81NN7DwOm_gAHgHIXdtkAK-xigt-MHnqd5lsJdaJWaUaQMYaucnVh6bBe4DcJ-I97lpmih348KUmMA3ZNJVjd28mzGRl9Xq-xKYij276_rKIJXDzJZD/s2048/deep+purple.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCffRtrCNgsCaCWEcrl0PUXtZ_81NN7DwOm_gAHgHIXdtkAK-xigt-MHnqd5lsJdaJWaUaQMYaucnVh6bBe4DcJ-I97lpmih348KUmMA3ZNJVjd28mzGRl9Xq-xKYij276_rKIJXDzJZD/w300-h400/deep+purple.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>If you aren't one of my regular readers, you might<br />wonder what I mean by "broken bones". Here's <br />the evidence, a broken heel encased in a very<br />colourful purple fibreglass cast. If I behave myself<br />the cast comes off on December 15, a bit over<br />two weeks away.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now, onto this morning's pleasant surprise. Our neighbour, Jane, from two doors down the hill, came to the door with the loveliest bunch of hydrangeas cut from the bush which is "going mad" right now in Sydney's spring. She had heard about my broken hoof and just wanted to wish me well. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-LVw-s9dlYoKkhVZFV1L3NwT7bS2f8LxTGtXNgFfat9ZZwql7SrBEIyjkFWZtUO082eE8_9-CeoznKQNKanwMGyZaTTSAwX_n6SM6zbdo_TeO86E9l1Ylmd_sPwptEkNEFx2VH5Ff5ep/s2048/Jane%2527s+hydrangeas.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-LVw-s9dlYoKkhVZFV1L3NwT7bS2f8LxTGtXNgFfat9ZZwql7SrBEIyjkFWZtUO082eE8_9-CeoznKQNKanwMGyZaTTSAwX_n6SM6zbdo_TeO86E9l1Ylmd_sPwptEkNEFx2VH5Ff5ep/w400-h300/Jane%2527s+hydrangeas.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This simple, kindly gesture has become one of the themes of these last six weeks. Neighbours all around us have offered to help out however they can, especially with car transport. Close friends have actually done the driving for us when needed, delicious treats from friends' creative kitchens have been delivered, and all sorts of people have been in touch just to ask how we're both going. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The kindness started even at the moment back in mid-October when I initially hurt myself. Later on, once I emerged from the hospital's emergency ward wearing a brand new plaster cast on my leg and wobbling along on a shiny set of crutches, two young men wearing turbans on their head rushed over to help me make it to the taxi rank. (</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">I think they were Sikhs, but they were definitely also good Samaritans).</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">One fellow whipped out his mobile phone and summoned a cab on his app for me, and when the taxi arrived they flagged it down so I only had a few awkward steps to make before I slumped into the back of the cab. My thankyous and their best wishes were warmly exchanged ... and now six weeks later I am still so grateful for their simple acts of kindness to a total stranger.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meanwhile, I have discovered a completely new side to my darling Pammy. After 30 years of marriage we've got our respective household job descriptions quite nicely sorted. For all that time I have been the one to do the gardening and any heavy lifting, and she has been the creative person who comes up with ideas, who spots pest control problems on plants and generally offers good advice on what we should do next. We garden as a team, but I'm the one who gets covered in dirt.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The breakthrough to this old regime came early ... and it happened in the kitchen. We're keen on recycling vegie scraps, and composting is my job! So when the little vegie scrap bin filled up, she asked "what do I do with this now?". With my broken foot it's a very long way down to the back of the property and the compost bin, and my first utterly sexist reaction was to suggest we forget about the scraps and composting until I healed up. "Nonsense, where is it, what do you do?"<br /><br />Well, the truth be told, compost bins are almost rocket science, but not quite. You see, you have to remove the lid from the bin, tip in the contents of the scraps bin, and replace the lid. So it's incredibly complicated. And worst of all, down there near the shed, it's a bit yucky, and there might be spiders there, too. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so ever since becoming compost bin attendant, Pammy has been adding my "boy's job" skills to her repertoire, each time doing it with effortless aplomb.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She's been watering the garden on all the days when rain hasn't been forecast, pulling out weeds, picking up fallen fruit and trimming back over-growth. And the garden is looking quite nice, actually.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then Pam very sensibly decided that we needed to get in a professional team of heavy duty gardeners for a few hours, and two strapping lads whipped out their chainsaws and powered hedge trimmers and in a cacophony of noise and activity all manner of overgrowth was cut back, carried to the truck and disappeared. That's how to manage an overgrown garden!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She has been magnificent over these last six weeks, especially when you consider that she's as busy as can be with her art teaching at the same time.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so, to finish off this update on the fun and games at our place, here's a few photos, taken this morning, to share.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDP1TUDG8_iXqBDwAyb1LfuSP4cEMu0TGbJnKAUDf_4nDB-etQVl8wYdz05mETj23wya2vD30xfCktDvK6l7k4i0LUagLa4RZTfVIbsYyIMQRiVR0_Um3-bBSaVMhZE6MdHaWd9U0rN1G/s2048/NSW+Xmas+bush.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDP1TUDG8_iXqBDwAyb1LfuSP4cEMu0TGbJnKAUDf_4nDB-etQVl8wYdz05mETj23wya2vD30xfCktDvK6l7k4i0LUagLa4RZTfVIbsYyIMQRiVR0_Um3-bBSaVMhZE6MdHaWd9U0rN1G/w400-h300/NSW+Xmas+bush.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: times;">Our potted New South Wales Christmas Bush has never looked<br />so red nor lasted so long. It usually colours up in late October<br />and runs out of puff well before Christmas, but at least it will<br />provide good festive colour well into December this time.</span></i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ5u4bs-4DONCAuZ8O7Tpkvea6rja0TuBrisczDID8aVDpW2yomyL0Ng3HtJzB6wHyu8gKJP-v5OtT70v56940TlRtSuUDaZW-914RtUtMLpnYH7FzVVOoPLQDtp_aNDt9AtJCfK9QcNC/s2048/Silverbeet+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ5u4bs-4DONCAuZ8O7Tpkvea6rja0TuBrisczDID8aVDpW2yomyL0Ng3HtJzB6wHyu8gKJP-v5OtT70v56940TlRtSuUDaZW-914RtUtMLpnYH7FzVVOoPLQDtp_aNDt9AtJCfK9QcNC/w400-h300/Silverbeet+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span><i>I planted silver beet seeds just a few days before I broke my<br /></i></span><i>foot, and so all this excellent progress is due to the watering<br />skills of my watercolour girl Pammy. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXC6H6IPb33FuLUXoV-62o1N-eTCg0uKABzMStdl6vOSLWjJcA-R1f5x8SBXZc2F90hyRrA38nBFQFnl5szg44ZE3xAcQGBVu7ErSJditvmxSakbCwh0Z0lNEsTzAeSxrhCK-guofIaLiV/s2048/Pumpkin+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXC6H6IPb33FuLUXoV-62o1N-eTCg0uKABzMStdl6vOSLWjJcA-R1f5x8SBXZc2F90hyRrA38nBFQFnl5szg44ZE3xAcQGBVu7ErSJditvmxSakbCwh0Z0lNEsTzAeSxrhCK-guofIaLiV/w400-h300/Pumpkin+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>And on the same day I planted the silverbeet seeds I also <br />planted a Jap pumpkin seedling, and it too is loving life.<br />Our original thought was to be bossy and cut it back if it<br />spread too far but right now we're thinking of it as a<br />"very big groundcover with edibles" and we like that idea. </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">And so the news here from the land of the broken-footed gardener is that for the last six weeks I have been surrounded by the kindness of strangers, of friends, of neighbours and, most of all, my wonderful woman. I am truly a very lucky boy.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-88103502522432922082020-10-26T17:24:00.001+11:002020-10-26T17:24:29.876+11:00Well, that didn't last long <p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Well, there I was thinking that gardening is a safe and easy way to pass the time, and I end up in the emergency ward at Westmead Hospital with a broken ankle.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The short version of the story is that I was doing some gardening at Pam's mother's townhouse, fixing up the mess of pots and plants on her ground-floor balcony. The last phase of the successful operation was to hose down the balcony, then return the hose back to the garden area behind her townhouse.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was such a low balcony that the 60cm (2 feet) drop from the tiled floor onto the grass below presented no obvious dangers, and so off I jumped. My left foot landed on the soft green lawn perfectly, no problems. But my right foot landed right on top of a hidden concrete edging strip around the lawn. Suddenly a little 60cm drop felt like a plummet into the abyss. Ouch.<br /><br />And pictured below, this is how my right ankle looked about four hours later, in the Emergency Ward.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt7xGC2OnD3rseRwCLdatmy3cgYGTtfzL1YcLmlO-XC6C5pBZZYRWzH9WzL2_f93S5e6KWvMVZ7bqKV44BUq8j2_Vg_qi6MbEDL6jZQIlgsFPCWarerzuioMAlLAL2GoDE8CFUPizB-Ds/s850/Jamie+plaster+cast.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt7xGC2OnD3rseRwCLdatmy3cgYGTtfzL1YcLmlO-XC6C5pBZZYRWzH9WzL2_f93S5e6KWvMVZ7bqKV44BUq8j2_Vg_qi6MbEDL6jZQIlgsFPCWarerzuioMAlLAL2GoDE8CFUPizB-Ds/w300-h400/Jamie+plaster+cast.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The prognosis isn't too bad, but it doesn't involve any gardening. I need to have my leg in plaster, and my right leg comfortably elevated, for about six weeks. Then more X-Rays and I'll find out what comes next.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, dear readers, following my long garden-blogging lay-off from late 2018 until just a month or so ago in 2020, and my brief re-appearance, I'm afraid there's going to be a short lay-off from gardening blogging at least until December, and perhaps until early 2021, depending on how things go.<br /><br />All I can recommend is that no matter how small the drop, no matter how safe it looks, don't jump off any balconies whatsoever. I have learned my lesson the painful way. I am grounded!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-3809959935019890322020-10-09T06:23:00.002+11:002020-10-09T06:23:28.736+11:00Waiting for Good-o<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's hardly rational, but I always manage to have moments of silent panic each year when my Louisiana irises start to bloom. I blame the blue ones, because they show up early. Too early in fact. About two weeks before the white ones.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And I really love the white ones. So, every year, there's a two week period when I manage to convince myself that maybe I've done something wrong, and the white ones won't appear at all. Silly boy. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVagawvaCjkmvbzoXDQEQ-k7wlOzInEy-FtnQ6-F-ZZs1koM1z5M3xJhmqBoig65WXP5lpN27cCqDTAzdgzk-xxQcCpIehk2EJuobJ5Fl_vnncIplfNNEHUOoW4QIyZ0f4J-bMc2Cg5m9I/s2048/White+LA+Double.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVagawvaCjkmvbzoXDQEQ-k7wlOzInEy-FtnQ6-F-ZZs1koM1z5M3xJhmqBoig65WXP5lpN27cCqDTAzdgzk-xxQcCpIehk2EJuobJ5Fl_vnncIplfNNEHUOoW4QIyZ0f4J-bMc2Cg5m9I/w400-h300/White+LA+Double.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Double delight this morning, two white Louisiana irises.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was only few days ago that I wondered 'had I accidentally thrown out the white-flowered plants' rhizomes last year while repotting?' No, surely not. </span></div><span style="font-family: verdana; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But I am keen enough that, every now and then, just for a few nano-seconds of self-doubt, I allow these thoughts a subversive whisper in my ear.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></span><span style="font-family: verdana; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">That's all history now. Last year I had to repot my Louisiana irises, as they had multiplied so much they had totally outgrown their pot. In fact, I had to set up a second, smaller water garden pot to cope with the overload. Even then I still had to toss out some excess rhizomes, simply because I had so many. These things are really vigorous growers, but I must admit it's a nice problem to have. </div></span><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYl65ZU_UR5-VUKi0UDAsmPquxwdMjOkCwkDFVlyY2-UIAGz2i5uLGGpLFiQrHzCLd9sl_5jkXoZpio-CzXN3HEBXkx5A3E6GgcVs_iVtN9HPkjIdavmBA5AEP-hXzekzQJiRmGlvhtaUQ/s850/White+Louisiana+iris+flower+bud+early.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="850" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYl65ZU_UR5-VUKi0UDAsmPquxwdMjOkCwkDFVlyY2-UIAGz2i5uLGGpLFiQrHzCLd9sl_5jkXoZpio-CzXN3HEBXkx5A3E6GgcVs_iVtN9HPkjIdavmBA5AEP-hXzekzQJiRmGlvhtaUQ/w400-h331/White+Louisiana+iris+flower+bud+early.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Louisiana iris flowers telegraph the colours to come a few<br />days in advance.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdaaX6kL9Y_jiZa13_VYMy9_lLI-eOZqjLoxFWbORSBQVJ0lwD9w9A89n6Cx0aQFxL9X_3pdArsFOe_NhVSI2F90LVMwtW5sCKss99u_VXTOeaNlvQ9bBEm-WRJ5VMe3J0FcOkzjJrDiC/s850/White+LA+Flower+Buds.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="850" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdaaX6kL9Y_jiZa13_VYMy9_lLI-eOZqjLoxFWbORSBQVJ0lwD9w9A89n6Cx0aQFxL9X_3pdArsFOe_NhVSI2F90LVMwtW5sCKss99u_VXTOeaNlvQ9bBEm-WRJ5VMe3J0FcOkzjJrDiC/w400-h328/White+LA+Flower+Buds.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>It's hard to be there for the actual moment the flowers open,<br />but these guys are sooo close.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinImswyWTNrm3ZqmR_m9vs5DcrVTVMWPkFP_koxnpB0lf0tupTzJxMD9p16vmsjyALVUSUfSCA3FkzwioLwS5nvNN0VKEf-uj6_voqP6IIgwp8CGTw_b8RiI5spFkTKJLkyxKvOFqIRBzo/s850/White+LA+2.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinImswyWTNrm3ZqmR_m9vs5DcrVTVMWPkFP_koxnpB0lf0tupTzJxMD9p16vmsjyALVUSUfSCA3FkzwioLwS5nvNN0VKEf-uj6_voqP6IIgwp8CGTw_b8RiI5spFkTKJLkyxKvOFqIRBzo/w400-h300/White+LA+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Then, next thing you know, they're open and if you could<br />talk to them they'd say they've been open for ages. Where were you?</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7G7wv_9vRPfKksPlPmARHmekZvr-iUSoZJ2m_RM3gcCzf05ylxHjTPBkvcYR13-nknF-akKGdnO0mUFvHxOIz9RKy7O9FgzLSSRK-Y1-ByEDrr128FMfMgTB4Sw6Kut7CUOwYfn3MN7l/s850/White+LA+petal+1.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7G7wv_9vRPfKksPlPmARHmekZvr-iUSoZJ2m_RM3gcCzf05ylxHjTPBkvcYR13-nknF-akKGdnO0mUFvHxOIz9RKy7O9FgzLSSRK-Y1-ByEDrr128FMfMgTB4Sw6Kut7CUOwYfn3MN7l/w400-h300/White+LA+petal+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Of course the thing that makes my white irises so special to<br />me is the green bits. A totally all-white iris with no green stripey bits would be a pale imitation of the real thing.</i></span> </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIGZqZ-2pPD5dRAs741vc2mxxHVK9VrVa4S7zqE0Gtec9tB0QN66m0MaFjEEisQlaoTgUXsRtmwUJp_lJH5VFCz6mgqpCTJJPF3y5Iqy1R03200NPQCdTD20DxtnX1nXWv23kKDXC6ppH/s2048/White+LA+Single+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIGZqZ-2pPD5dRAs741vc2mxxHVK9VrVa4S7zqE0Gtec9tB0QN66m0MaFjEEisQlaoTgUXsRtmwUJp_lJH5VFCz6mgqpCTJJPF3y5Iqy1R03200NPQCdTD20DxtnX1nXWv23kKDXC6ppH/w400-h300/White+LA+Single+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><i style="font-family: times; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>There are tinges of green deep within each bloom, but </i><i>it's the stripes that really get me. They look </i><i>like they're hand-painted with a slender brush.</i></div></i><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />The whole glorious flower show will all be over two weeks from now. That'll be it for another year, but the wait for Good-o has been worth it yet again. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">However, when you factor in the two weeks of glorious blue irises prior to the white ones, it's a month-long, very delightful way to announce to everyone that spring is well and truly here. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-91271046110422981362020-10-02T07:16:00.001+10:002020-10-02T09:37:06.997+10:00The natives are restful<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pammy sees to it that the interiors of our house are always brightened by flowers in vases, whether they're picked from the garden or bought home from a florist's shop.<br /><br />And in the last few weeks it has been gorgeous natives — lots of them — that have been filling the house with their beautiful blooms. I find the effect quite restful.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYUFrwVV0WRe2Q7bljRn_sVgyWaNlL-slMluLamfwIpzh9C93aFZPXn0TKP7qRqHDNxu4x7xl1zA3I_toTiC_QhweboG1Vyxqh3qFaJqSYnvlcGVnl1NQvVbOVJbYFi5dqh9IXQLmd4MY/s850/Flannel+flower+close.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYUFrwVV0WRe2Q7bljRn_sVgyWaNlL-slMluLamfwIpzh9C93aFZPXn0TKP7qRqHDNxu4x7xl1zA3I_toTiC_QhweboG1Vyxqh3qFaJqSYnvlcGVnl1NQvVbOVJbYFi5dqh9IXQLmd4MY/w400-h300/Flannel+flower+close.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Flannel flowers, my favourite native flowers. While everyone naturally thinks of them as white, I am also captivated by their subtle greens that feature not only in the centre, but are also flecked on the petals, especially as they start to fade. And besides, they look like soft fabric.</i></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHg5YCmEyNAIOT-xQdINoNPTCpw-AOd8A7B68YQr6VABTXtmeJ4PLDzzV2VlnfX0nUKNPyKtH6jVkUmaKVei38z776SjUJ0BhTE1ZL8p9SlWzbpXE9okTKRX7nB94ePBYzPjJblZqJA1L/s850/Karen+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHg5YCmEyNAIOT-xQdINoNPTCpw-AOd8A7B68YQr6VABTXtmeJ4PLDzzV2VlnfX0nUKNPyKtH6jVkUmaKVei38z776SjUJ0BhTE1ZL8p9SlWzbpXE9okTKRX7nB94ePBYzPjJblZqJA1L/w300-h400/Karen+2.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">How come all the native beauty? Pammy has been running a series of weekend art classes (all sold out, the series finished last weekend) at two venues in Sydney. Pictured above is a shot from her class at <a href="https://acquireatdesign.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Acquire@Design in King Street Newtown</span></a>.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsifDnVGtoKsAxEQEGImCRA8Ad22g9mFWbDtr38sEdGGmZUasCbxdBYrOmeD7hk58OEjIB4tqP-0KRdSEn3Pv-hH9jkqOghojHCm_WhsJiYrsBc50keOJoV8Fshba_oa9H2dxMb7K84c0e/s850/Karen+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="777" data-original-width="850" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsifDnVGtoKsAxEQEGImCRA8Ad22g9mFWbDtr38sEdGGmZUasCbxdBYrOmeD7hk58OEjIB4tqP-0KRdSEn3Pv-hH9jkqOghojHCm_WhsJiYrsBc50keOJoV8Fshba_oa9H2dxMb7K84c0e/w400-h365/Karen+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Run by dressmaker and fashion designer Karen Kwok, Acquire is a designer store selling original fashions, plus a skilfully curated, eclectic selection of designer homewares. And it has a big, long, wide dressmaker's table in the centre, where small classes can relax and learn watercolour skills following Pammy's expert tuition. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pam's other weekend courses are conducted at <a href="https://www.conniedimasjewellery.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Connie Dimas Jewellery in Dulwich Hill</span></a>. Connie is an innovative jewellery designer, and she also has a big table to cater for a variety of art classes for small groups.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">To finish off all the plugs, I'd better tell you where to find Pamela Horsnell the artist and art teacher online. She is on Instagram at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/pamelahorsnellartist/?hl=en" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">@pamelahorsnellartist</span></a>, and her website is at <a href="http://pamelahorsnell.org" target="_blank"><span style="color: #cc0000;">pamelahorsnell.org</span></a> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Onto the flower show!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnehpvGlGB0xZ2qM5to0Qjb3mJpKi_5tzLLUqUwl6b5lx33uaPaUCJM_iAsBIJ0ua9UkkLEJr1nlNoL89HUvqiH120fP-giuBgaWKC_pF6MIxCUR6oKS489R_MOKWoBiRhpfLim27Yo3b/s850/Banksia+coccinea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnehpvGlGB0xZ2qM5to0Qjb3mJpKi_5tzLLUqUwl6b5lx33uaPaUCJM_iAsBIJ0ua9UkkLEJr1nlNoL89HUvqiH120fP-giuBgaWKC_pF6MIxCUR6oKS489R_MOKWoBiRhpfLim27Yo3b/w300-h400/Banksia+coccinea.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This is Banksia coccinea, commonly called the scarlet banksia, and most commonly a scarlet-red flower too. But there are orange forms like this one, and it's such a good cut flower for vases. This specimen is two weeks old and still looking good.</i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcp-5vd5D41LP2aQC-NP84HVmiTXDhXVWfk8GY32XtXjUMTMd15NwZBhW124nxILbvNbgaB38_NMMS5nOp0qsPnjkMKB6Wf6dbQsjluDrCtczR5aQA7JeKC3QoAdUt7Y-uPfMzxZ0010g/s850/Wattle.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcp-5vd5D41LP2aQC-NP84HVmiTXDhXVWfk8GY32XtXjUMTMd15NwZBhW124nxILbvNbgaB38_NMMS5nOp0qsPnjkMKB6Wf6dbQsjluDrCtczR5aQA7JeKC3QoAdUt7Y-uPfMzxZ0010g/w400-h300/Wattle.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Not sure what kind of wattle this is, but it's pretty while it lasts, which unfortunately is not that long. But when seen as part of a huge shrub in bloom in gardens, it's a show-stopper.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd4aBgorA1dlPa8w7MJ6pcqTG5ByTseWyQQS0VVPwsQGEDOfhNWYxvVdiv41iNQ7m9xUVKgegPH0pS-E3c1lAe2YMXwjnM8MCM8gkwrUFPWYRnIEfiQlHZpy6RovfN6HV2Z1yhXPTjnly/s850/Yellow+eucalyptus+and+pod.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLd4aBgorA1dlPa8w7MJ6pcqTG5ByTseWyQQS0VVPwsQGEDOfhNWYxvVdiv41iNQ7m9xUVKgegPH0pS-E3c1lAe2YMXwjnM8MCM8gkwrUFPWYRnIEfiQlHZpy6RovfN6HV2Z1yhXPTjnly/w400-h300/Yellow+eucalyptus+and+pod.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">With this yellow-flowered eucalyptus, you get spectacular gumnuts which, when their browny-red lids pop off, reveal outrageously big, yellow blooms. Nectar-eating birds can spot them from a mile away.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlV0K2faobOAjWXgP-ej6y4Vs-2N7sJMBtdzxSOHDVIkuDzmczhLr70pz9AaYrQ24QSu0nhZtjarGY2YR0XtXB7MIVN_qzj1BsI299EUksplVEuFK5qTmnn2KccwV6YoTx03Z9yNwIOT73/s850/Yellow+k+paws.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlV0K2faobOAjWXgP-ej6y4Vs-2N7sJMBtdzxSOHDVIkuDzmczhLr70pz9AaYrQ24QSu0nhZtjarGY2YR0XtXB7MIVN_qzj1BsI299EUksplVEuFK5qTmnn2KccwV6YoTx03Z9yNwIOT73/w300-h400/Yellow+k+paws.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Kangaroo paws come in many colours, but I always remember driving along narrow coastal roads in Western Australia in springtime, with yellow kangaroo paws six feet high forming a big beautiful golden wall on both sides of the road, the way tall grasses do. It seemed other-worldly to be in a sea of kangaroo paws.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrpmw6h_E0jixywElCIteTEBhCgi9nGya4Szb4HhHin0Mtv8hOx11_bz_7_4MzAlQFA8rViEYfqkReK-1MHeZGfYY-GRFWCX9vOq30fvDBV0YXTfYC8fR27ACCpOg-8MqxEx0c7PWNDSk/s850/Waratahs+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrpmw6h_E0jixywElCIteTEBhCgi9nGya4Szb4HhHin0Mtv8hOx11_bz_7_4MzAlQFA8rViEYfqkReK-1MHeZGfYY-GRFWCX9vOq30fvDBV0YXTfYC8fR27ACCpOg-8MqxEx0c7PWNDSk/w400-h300/Waratahs+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Like the Banksia above, this pink waratah is two weeks old and still going strong. For overseas readers who might not be familiar with waratahs, each bloom is up to five or so inches across, and in the wild each waratah shrub in bloom can have a few dozen of these stunners. They're the official state emblem of my home state, New South Wales, where they grow in abundance in our cooler zones, such as up in the mountains.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHurRA07XG_SCHYz-xWgo4ZSPVuHDh7wTdO9kVlHsGrKu0cdrnUBevkuMhwOizd7Ygh-sjZ1CU3EwHcTkwDgcH_FBQ7l9WvpzJeKus5EyJ5vD2JMwEV9YBZ_DstWmQqu8qRz2PMdNcDE9/s850/Waratahs+Lou%2527s.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHurRA07XG_SCHYz-xWgo4ZSPVuHDh7wTdO9kVlHsGrKu0cdrnUBevkuMhwOizd7Ygh-sjZ1CU3EwHcTkwDgcH_FBQ7l9WvpzJeKus5EyJ5vD2JMwEV9YBZ_DstWmQqu8qRz2PMdNcDE9/w400-h300/Waratahs+Lou%2527s.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Speaking of wild waratahs, the closest we can get to that is the bunch of waratahs grown by our friend Lou on his South Coast property at Bermagui. Unlike the waratahs sold in florist's shops, which stay tightly packed for quite some time, Lou's native versions opened out within a few days of arriving.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQXwubfo07O8WKx7uAESF0XQSNEjzvKoOuwnOvvFLlABEboQyJ03pqbLAKuzcyHZYvpGL5AEmmRUaFUpHRUSGnXMR7FjHm_lRF7OKEZwbZRcPC-GSQcH6AFwMBeWfxXRJ8uYrohl8VlpJ/s850/Gumnuts+7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="850" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQXwubfo07O8WKx7uAESF0XQSNEjzvKoOuwnOvvFLlABEboQyJ03pqbLAKuzcyHZYvpGL5AEmmRUaFUpHRUSGnXMR7FjHm_lRF7OKEZwbZRcPC-GSQcH6AFwMBeWfxXRJ8uYrohl8VlpJ/w400-h268/Gumnuts+7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">When you mention native flora it's not just all about flowers. There's gumnuts, and these come in so many captivating sizes and shapes that any good display of natives in vases should include some gumnuts. These little ones (that look like they are dusted in icing sugar) will be going back to Connie Dimas' jewellery store, where Connie will use them as templates for some new creations.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_2zPR2ec3XydpEL5YXBi-wgu0MZx_40MAy5cXJJ60kgMQdLVqJxHUK203aeNOtW_2cLKybSK_lEdqmPeOge1uhm3IaMdSi4grIT_OAHx9v18OY3VZuM-IEvL-YdCjEdjY18oVTEY46Ql/s850/gumnuts+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_2zPR2ec3XydpEL5YXBi-wgu0MZx_40MAy5cXJJ60kgMQdLVqJxHUK203aeNOtW_2cLKybSK_lEdqmPeOge1uhm3IaMdSi4grIT_OAHx9v18OY3VZuM-IEvL-YdCjEdjY18oVTEY46Ql/w400-h300/gumnuts+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">The gumnut leftovers of a yellow eucalyptus flower show. And did I mention that eucalyptus leaves are just as varied, beautiful and desirable as gumnuts?</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuq4EvyZWBArgJdFLxHVpyzFNY7fJFUkE76wdJj5QdyCyN3Lgb_P-KYpd-3OL6ULEKlTUqjASNQFZURga057dEn05nMy0bvVyd-V3m5NyZ9r0oROQ7kZ7DVDiJ5k23W2xxp4VnL3xF4eI/s850/gumnuts+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuq4EvyZWBArgJdFLxHVpyzFNY7fJFUkE76wdJj5QdyCyN3Lgb_P-KYpd-3OL6ULEKlTUqjASNQFZURga057dEn05nMy0bvVyd-V3m5NyZ9r0oROQ7kZ7DVDiJ5k23W2xxp4VnL3xF4eI/w400-h300/gumnuts+1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Another gumnut pic to show you, with a flannel flower on the side.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWojWN-JALGHsGs031MaCWbyKjEXz0Yah2TKL2SjK9z2Yd39-Y8Mlx6gupYQwUML67bBY1sZYtv_n_bQW4QIlFlit5wym99y9PlnkGzWF5Qn5t_o-MTbkTufLdUC1k9AP3t5s4bbof6S0F/s850/Geraldton+wax+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWojWN-JALGHsGs031MaCWbyKjEXz0Yah2TKL2SjK9z2Yd39-Y8Mlx6gupYQwUML67bBY1sZYtv_n_bQW4QIlFlit5wym99y9PlnkGzWF5Qn5t_o-MTbkTufLdUC1k9AP3t5s4bbof6S0F/w400-h300/Geraldton+wax+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Beloved of florists, Geraldton wax seems simple at first glance, that is until you peer into what is going on inside each bloom...</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CPwQ1KFyK2RmKlSa5dbjxWfKy5_WNaeQomFTgP1UWFHJsm51aYAv7mugcODcELM8fHm4v66ev48DhSwQHpJvh44Re5RvkpDvog26VpEwuGRi-hR8WthN5nLULEGb-9Hz5BhyxJzcVd1D/s850/Flannel+flowers.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CPwQ1KFyK2RmKlSa5dbjxWfKy5_WNaeQomFTgP1UWFHJsm51aYAv7mugcODcELM8fHm4v66ev48DhSwQHpJvh44Re5RvkpDvog26VpEwuGRi-hR8WthN5nLULEGb-9Hz5BhyxJzcVd1D/w400-h300/Flannel+flowers.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">A vase of flannel flowers will brighten any room, soothe any aching soul.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAu-MbTfTC4mioGc1n4tNOq5PtkZq29qAEJV-oih95bOJnKu_vh0aPlvLDR_MT8vVit4n1s1TBud1Jz5t_Qf-xCoutWM4CXNqlTDxAwU47SwMF0h84YPB-d5ZVNC1fIXPjRWdqSvOmdIG/s850/Callistemon+bottlebrush.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAu-MbTfTC4mioGc1n4tNOq5PtkZq29qAEJV-oih95bOJnKu_vh0aPlvLDR_MT8vVit4n1s1TBud1Jz5t_Qf-xCoutWM4CXNqlTDxAwU47SwMF0h84YPB-d5ZVNC1fIXPjRWdqSvOmdIG/w400-h300/Callistemon+bottlebrush.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">These bottlebrush flowers might not look that spectacular, but go easy on them: they're just tough street kids fending for themselves. The streets in my area have countless red Callistemons (bottlebrushes) in bloom right now, an excellent street tree.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcY0fkQzCUUtFQa6vty10clfFpDQxub6rkuqxsPVX6kmG6vQ7BoO3fILruGC00pZyx1BqCQ2cB3qKHWBm79mqSzctnksr_7vzo0xz-SMer-LYaF0F-pPQ3tMeUTugt5J-govQqmUbQhDu/s709/10+Grevillea+Robyn+Gordon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="709" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcY0fkQzCUUtFQa6vty10clfFpDQxub6rkuqxsPVX6kmG6vQ7BoO3fILruGC00pZyx1BqCQ2cB3qKHWBm79mqSzctnksr_7vzo0xz-SMer-LYaF0F-pPQ3tMeUTugt5J-govQqmUbQhDu/w400-h268/10+Grevillea+Robyn+Gordon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">And last but not least, a big 'thank you' to our friend Jolanda, who allowed Pam to pop around to her garden, secateurs in hand, and trim off a selection of grevillea blooms, gumnuts and eucalyptus foliage for use in her native flora art classes.</i><p></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p><p><i style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></i></p>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797396120087729156.post-81560562333119583572020-09-26T10:29:00.004+10:002020-09-26T17:03:27.930+10:00Sowing seeds to ease the covid boredom<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_YWgoY6MZiJXD5wzG9E0mK1f3GbBMNzs0C38mkhBIcEqwwi7l13rLAXU65bDspp_yeCaFJbSWw6Z6deZX1hYBZo7x_8sURXX2U7T4InALzBGuFe4twb-_dmSLQc0qbaEmjqa9x6A5Hfp/s850/1+Lettuce.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="850" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_YWgoY6MZiJXD5wzG9E0mK1f3GbBMNzs0C38mkhBIcEqwwi7l13rLAXU65bDspp_yeCaFJbSWw6Z6deZX1hYBZo7x_8sURXX2U7T4InALzBGuFe4twb-_dmSLQc0qbaEmjqa9x6A5Hfp/w400-h269/1+Lettuce.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">First up, a big, warm THANK YOU everyone for all your lovely messages saying things like “welcome back” “wondered where you got to” “was thinking of you only the other day” etc etc. (Not one saying "oh no, he's back"). You’re such nice people! </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">On with the show.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last posting I mentioned that I was going to do something about growing things from seed, because that’s been my main activity ever since the COVID-19 pandemic turned the whole world upside down early this year.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Like all other sensible people, I’ve been avoiding crowded spaces wherever possible. I do my supermarket shopping (mask on!) in the early morning hours, when it's fairly empty, and I haven’t been to a major gardening centre for more than six months — and yet I’ve been very busy growing crops of herbs, vegies and flowers during all this time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The reason for that is simple: seeds. I’ve bought some of the seeds I need at the supermarket, and others that I can’t find there I have bought online.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So what have I been raising from seed?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Mesclun: </span>this is just a mix of different salad greens, including several varieties of lettuce, plus rocket, lamb’s lettuce, a small Asian green like tatsoi, plus sharper tasting mizuna and red radicchio. Each seed supplier has its own mesclun mix. I'm growing mesclun in long, deep planter troughs that edge our outdoor entertaining area.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Coriander:</span> one big pot is all I need. I sowed a batch in April, then when it started to tire in July, I sowed another batch.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Chives:</span> this is the first time I've sown chives from seed, and it's worked so well I might do it this way every year. My chives pot always loses the will to live in midwinter, when it becomes a solid clump of pot-bound roots in its pot. In previous years I've either divided up the clump and replanted the best ones, or I've taken the lazy route and just bought another punnet of seedlings. From now on, it's seeds, ho!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Parsley:</span> this is a pain to do, as parsley can take 3-4 weeks for the seeds to sprout, but it's a good reliable way to rejuvenate the parsley patch if you get started in late winter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Poppies:</span> usually I buy seedlings of Iceland poppies to grow for Pammy, but this year I started them off from seed a few months ago, and they're blooming nicely now. Nowhere near as easy and convenient as buying seedlings in late April, but not difficult to grow from seed, either.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Sweet peas:</span> after last year's success with my first sowing of seed, I've expanded the size of the sweet pea patch and moved it to a sunnier spot. So far, so good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Shallots (green onions):</span> the thing I hate about buying punnets of shallot seedlings from garden centres is that even one punnet has too many seedlings, so I've got into the routine of sowing a small number of seeds every few weeks to keep production going. During the pandemic lockdown my culinary adventures have included lots of stir-fries, and learning all sorts of noodle dishes, and you end up getting through a lot of shallots when you start cooking a lot of Asian food.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><span style="color: #e06666;"><b>Sowing seeds in pots</b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sowing seed is easy in pots using my </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">‘scatter and cover’ </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">method. Here's how I do it (I'm sowing coriander seeds, simply because they are pale and big, so you can actually see them in the photos). The basic principles apply to all sorts of other seeds (ie, chives, shallots, basil, parsley, chillies, tomatoes, lettuce, mesclun).<br /><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjniD5h6SIFaWGx2XZSttQ1u7veiLQAHZjPHccyECHBpPNGkUpSw6hMKd2NNLp7oOb3Uo0-KVriOuGkNWWkRp4eUhyxb1A8vV2k67nBJRnUrw388GeFLiysH38dz4_8GsplEJZeG13ToD/s850/Part+fill+pot.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjniD5h6SIFaWGx2XZSttQ1u7veiLQAHZjPHccyECHBpPNGkUpSw6hMKd2NNLp7oOb3Uo0-KVriOuGkNWWkRp4eUhyxb1A8vV2k67nBJRnUrw388GeFLiysH38dz4_8GsplEJZeG13ToD/w400-h300/Part+fill+pot.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><p>First up I smooth out a bed of fresh potting mix so it is flat and even, and reaches almost near the top of the trough, but not quite. </p></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYe8B4CNmW4Jh2-A1KlCmUv99dV0QBvv_upNNO1F6_13hLLUOg8ZQBQLB4FEP-ZxHxIBrA6HdIZrDzhp7nCarVN7jwkY9acjkZETviqysBWth89d_hs1ymht7kFqsfJEobtAEKxjHWGHEo/s850/Coriander+spread+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYe8B4CNmW4Jh2-A1KlCmUv99dV0QBvv_upNNO1F6_13hLLUOg8ZQBQLB4FEP-ZxHxIBrA6HdIZrDzhp7nCarVN7jwkY9acjkZETviqysBWth89d_hs1ymht7kFqsfJEobtAEKxjHWGHEo/s320/Coriander+spread+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><p>Then I scatter the seed from the packet as evenly as I can, making sure to err on the side of scattering too many seeds, rather than too few (I can thin out the crop a few weeks later on). </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHE8Pdzteeups_JEuOS7fkaW2wdk24wysTVPUsPEYjE0RXLFq5OquwZ2E_0dQwl3YQ4KlJ7BevLBQg-yY6Dr0C2ab62aZIqOVonEIoMNKULoxWxVO3n7qHKjXDPk0ZdxTBg2ylsHbmqiHe/s850/Read+instructions.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHE8Pdzteeups_JEuOS7fkaW2wdk24wysTVPUsPEYjE0RXLFq5OquwZ2E_0dQwl3YQ4KlJ7BevLBQg-yY6Dr0C2ab62aZIqOVonEIoMNKULoxWxVO3n7qHKjXDPk0ZdxTBg2ylsHbmqiHe/s320/Read+instructions.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p>Here's a cool trick ... read the instructions! Seed packets will tell you how "deep" to sow the seeds. In this case, with coriander, it's 5mm deep.</p></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjq52DYfSRhYGdzb2PpI1xgPAbjAcEGi4E4_nhecw2QFaK9F_mVnwLEllHNDZB0-1N8vk-oInuKCxntb9hhfi1dvDRfUJ6Y4wry8w6rJGz2882JJk382SsOVzRf7v3wPrPG3mLaYQKlb1/s850/Cover+with+5mm+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjq52DYfSRhYGdzb2PpI1xgPAbjAcEGi4E4_nhecw2QFaK9F_mVnwLEllHNDZB0-1N8vk-oInuKCxntb9hhfi1dvDRfUJ6Y4wry8w6rJGz2882JJk382SsOVzRf7v3wPrPG3mLaYQKlb1/s320/Cover+with+5mm+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><p>So, I scatter seed-raising mix<span style="color: #e06666;">*</span> fairly thinly over the seeds, about 5mm deep in this case (without getting too anxious about how accurate you are). But do make sure it's enough to cover the seeds so you can’t see them anymore. </p></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSSR1u0I6R_dl0z3Z2gTyvLFm_QOzD9_wWo9p0sO-aRQHpGIqlNzGfWZFuMTVimTi1_ZLNuoHF0lSZ7AF1fYdG4Xw6nnxNbT2QHjI0D63fmL_g6ttCz2FmyjmvaS_w9dfD26pywiN42Fk/s850/Seed+raising+mix.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSSR1u0I6R_dl0z3Z2gTyvLFm_QOzD9_wWo9p0sO-aRQHpGIqlNzGfWZFuMTVimTi1_ZLNuoHF0lSZ7AF1fYdG4Xw6nnxNbT2QHjI0D63fmL_g6ttCz2FmyjmvaS_w9dfD26pywiN42Fk/s320/Seed+raising+mix.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #e06666;">* </span>(By the way, for people outside Australia, seed-raising mix is a very fine-grained potting mix. Maybe a cuttings or propagation mix is the closest thing if you can’t find seed-raising mix.) </span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0HOZOR4WzDL0Up_0RLANXGoyqD03AXXYYyEOui3QAjBEY4LC2XC23l7S4wqr6VhNOWrDsjgqawgClt-WSR_yp8aJo-GY9exNjygCeNGgzpmBBv1eD0tI5ctwn5hrORsYkDrL9oMUDFjf/s850/Mist.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0HOZOR4WzDL0Up_0RLANXGoyqD03AXXYYyEOui3QAjBEY4LC2XC23l7S4wqr6VhNOWrDsjgqawgClt-WSR_yp8aJo-GY9exNjygCeNGgzpmBBv1eD0tI5ctwn5hrORsYkDrL9oMUDFjf/s320/Mist.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Finally I use a </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">‘</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">mist</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">’</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> spray setting on my fancy multi-setting hose nozzle (that I bought in an Asian Bargain Shop for $8, and which has worked well for years) to dampen the soil well but not drench it messily.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGZeLJtNHnW3Vd4tSAOdJqM2PBWHx19K9MesZxICMQkVgIbRzQbttlamX8o0WH_ewon7yu1FBMWqjOvNsAbVJyMQwzKcLnyv4zQSaBhYi1sK_p732VYgf83QorUCefcZCAyrDKasOT0fB/s850/Misting+3.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGZeLJtNHnW3Vd4tSAOdJqM2PBWHx19K9MesZxICMQkVgIbRzQbttlamX8o0WH_ewon7yu1FBMWqjOvNsAbVJyMQwzKcLnyv4zQSaBhYi1sK_p732VYgf83QorUCefcZCAyrDKasOT0fB/s320/Misting+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I mist the pot every morning until the seeds sprout. And if I can manage it, I like to keep pots out of the hot sun in a shaded area until they sprout, then expose the pots to more sun as the plants grow. Sometimes, with big heavy troughs, that isn't possible, so I just make sure to keep seedlings exposed to full sun well watered at all times.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibVtbXu3qVFjyUy058DrIFRcaMRWZPaDYKLRuiIfgZ56RXYFdFbCn8iMRTjewdOmEtzmZb-opIXghYvN0frdZ65bIp85z5bGW83QyKAvsjYYsdQxT467jkZegG4ZTpW2flKSHL68JiB2GU/s850/Mesclun+babies.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="850" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibVtbXu3qVFjyUy058DrIFRcaMRWZPaDYKLRuiIfgZ56RXYFdFbCn8iMRTjewdOmEtzmZb-opIXghYvN0frdZ65bIp85z5bGW83QyKAvsjYYsdQxT467jkZegG4ZTpW2flKSHL68JiB2GU/w400-h400/Mesclun+babies.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's how the mesclun trough looked like after about two weeks, with lots of babies coming up. With a mesclun mix</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> the fast-sprouting seeds like rocket and mizuna are up within four days. Some of the other seeds can take several days more to appear, sometimes up to two weeks. </span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScuasSCu0g4vgVgCNz-hBJoJqKn1uLAbMyvWicSpRsWk9c-ddunl7rhott1-lH3Q9rlcTW1Ym5HEUecrPzwRlG1cGyBkgkjnQ-Uqs1plueYDjzxLtG46dTD7R2D3grtT5Ewk-KrEzPizO/s2048/Coriander+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScuasSCu0g4vgVgCNz-hBJoJqKn1uLAbMyvWicSpRsWk9c-ddunl7rhott1-lH3Q9rlcTW1Ym5HEUecrPzwRlG1cGyBkgkjnQ-Uqs1plueYDjzxLtG46dTD7R2D3grtT5Ewk-KrEzPizO/w400-h400/Coriander+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Coriander grows at a more leisurely rate, taking about 10-12 days to appear, but it looks lovely when fully underway, like this pot full of babies that are probably about a month old.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQvYj9piqwIjwVIpv3bsw4hWC9Y3MkPUjdqrikH2sIEjoAAodejHfjZRXop0S-kR2hzkunkRdxVsC_-qRtHlm7QXKSJWDCRSnriMRYLrX9d2I0RIWATKpoBH_XUxtqCXq_Lt82O3Y3jus/s850/Mesclun+batch+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="638" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQvYj9piqwIjwVIpv3bsw4hWC9Y3MkPUjdqrikH2sIEjoAAodejHfjZRXop0S-kR2hzkunkRdxVsC_-qRtHlm7QXKSJWDCRSnriMRYLrX9d2I0RIWATKpoBH_XUxtqCXq_Lt82O3Y3jus/w300-h400/Mesclun+batch+1.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">With my first trough of mesclun I learned that I needed to keep a close eye on which plants are bullying the others and grabbing all the space, and that meant I had to occasionally pull out an over-eager bully plant so the tiddlers lower down could get going.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">After a few weeks of sorting out the squabbles between competing plant egos, they all settled down to make the most picturesque and delicious mixed leaf salads. A mature pot of mesclun is so photogenic, and if you just use a pair of scissors to give the pot a light </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">‘</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">haircut</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">’</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> you’ll have a nice mixed greens salad ready to go, with replacement leaves growing back rapidly in the next few days. Regular (fortnightly) liquid feeds keep the production humming along.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_YWgoY6MZiJXD5wzG9E0mK1f3GbBMNzs0C38mkhBIcEqwwi7l13rLAXU65bDspp_yeCaFJbSWw6Z6deZX1hYBZo7x_8sURXX2U7T4InALzBGuFe4twb-_dmSLQc0qbaEmjqa9x6A5Hfp/s850/1+Lettuce.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="850" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL_YWgoY6MZiJXD5wzG9E0mK1f3GbBMNzs0C38mkhBIcEqwwi7l13rLAXU65bDspp_yeCaFJbSWw6Z6deZX1hYBZo7x_8sURXX2U7T4InALzBGuFe4twb-_dmSLQc0qbaEmjqa9x6A5Hfp/w400-h269/1+Lettuce.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The alternative to mesclun, and also worth growing, is simply to grow several different lettuce varieties in the one pot. Though nice to look at and easier to manage, what a mixed lettuce salad lacks is a bit of that tasty pepper and spice in the leafy mix that you get with mesclun.</span></p><p><span style="color: #e06666; font-family: verdana;"><b>Managing the competition</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The one trick to remember with my </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">‘scatter and cover’ method is that it's likely that you will have sown too many seeds, so you will at some stage (say, in the third or fourth week after sowing) have to play at being Charles Darwin and pull out several weaker plants so there is enough room for the healthy ones to grow on. Don't be squeamish, just imagine you are the David Attenborough of salad greens, observing that only the strong survive while you watch on, fascinated.</span></p><p></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #e06666; font-family: verdana;">Breaking news ...</span></h3><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I am also growing basil from seed, just because I don’t want to visit garden centres to buy seedlings, not because basil doesn’t grow well from seedlings. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">All the seeds came up beautifully, they looked as cute as fat babies, but a few nights back the slugs ate everything. It was my fault — I had sat the basil seedling pot up on top of the soil under a potted lime tree, so it got nice dappled shade on a warm day, and I forgot to move it back to a safer space that evening. I found a bunch of slugs living under the rim of the lime tree pot, sneaky slimy seedling munchers ...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There was nothing left, just pathetic little white stumps where leaflets used to be. Such is life, and gardening, so start again …</span></p><div><br /></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14653345793213312242noreply@blogger.com3