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Previous months in Adelaide and Mylor, South Australia
With Fabienne & Simon

2000

June

Let me tell you a bit about what's happening in our backyard. We live in the ecological niche called 'Goodwood'. Named because there used to beautiful forests here ­ just like Norwood, Black Forest, Blackwood and Tea Tree Gully. If you¹re lucky you can see the remnant forest in antique furniture shops along our main roads. Adelaide is a pretty good place to be subversive and whack down a vege patch. And if you're vege patch is organic then you're considered militant. Subversive, militant, organic ­ now these are words that a mother of two likes to here about herself.

We live in a rental house in the heart of Unley Council. The front yard has roses that lull our landlords into a false sense of security. In the backyard grows a nectarine tree; an orange tree; two lemon trees; nine chickens that sleep in the Camillia shrub; two keen garden-toddlers (sort of interactive garden gnomes), a worm farm and a tough organic garden full of vegetables, herbs and flowers. A family of fat possums live in the ivy fence and helps keep rats and cats away.

Is anybody else in Adelaide still harvesting capsicums, eggplants and cucumbers? We are. As for the zuchinis ­ we couldn't take it any more and ripped them up months ago. You can eat only so much zucchini slice.

The brassicas are bravely fending off the cabbage moth caterpillars. We planted sections of brussel sprouts, brocolli, cabbage, cauliflower and beetroot. Between the brassicas; poppys pop, cornflowers corn flower and the larkspurs lark. The foxgloves are pacing themselves up and along the back fence. The remaining bushes of Basil, that we haven't turned into pesto, are cautiously flowering. The green and purple climbing beans that we're inter-planted with the hops are slowly drying up. After a section of the vege patch was heavily worked over by the chooks we've added a couple of handfuls of gypsum and dolomite, then mass planted a mixture of poppies, shallots, bok choy, spinach, spanish onion, carrot, calendula and radish seeds. Its an experiment ­ to fend of the relentless kamakazi grass- and something different from transplanting seedlings into compost/mulched beds. We encourage the lot with a fortnightly dousing of diluted worm wee and seaweed tea. For those that can't afford the high-tech-store-bought worm farm, you could try a cheaper way.

We've just got a daggy plastic bin with a lid (you can get anywhere for about $8) with a plastic tap fitted into a hole cut out at the base. Divide the bin with a firm piece of chicken-wire. Then fill one side with organic compost. Fill the other side with worm friendly kitchen scraps. (No orange peel, tea, meat, onion skins, chilli or coffee.) Release the worms into the compost and they will find their own way to the kitchen scraps. Add more kitchen scraps as the level lowers. We also feed our worms weeds and grass. Collect the worm wee at the base of the bin when needed. Well, that's how we do it anyway.

The best thing about having a chicken pen and an amateur compost heap is the odd 'volunteer'. Last summer we had two japanese pumpkin vines, that broke forth from the compost and nearly took over our backyard. We named them both 'Rampaging Roy Slaven' and scored two beautiful sweet pumpkins at the end of the season. The Rampaging Roy-Slavens vines were then given to the chickens, who delicatley tip-toed around them. This pumpkins were so good we¹ve saved the seeds to encourage a more civilised crop next summer.

The bulbs are pushing their green knife-like leaves up under the lemon tree. It was 'dead' when we first moved in, only eight months ago, and has been resurrected with two bales of straw, a lifetime of chicken pooh and fresh toddler wee. There are many people who wrinkle their noses up at the thought of a toddler weeing under a tree but isn't the way we abuse our precious fresh water supply more obscene? This is supposably the driest state on the driest continent after all.

Our broad beans act as a living fence between the grass and the more delicate brocolli. Around the comfrey we've put rannuculus, for some spring colour. I tend to believe that colour in the garden somehow helps veges to grow. Cheers them up. Does anybody know if its okay to leave the old eggplant shrubs to act as winter mulch or is it a good idea to donate them to the chooks now and rake in a green manure crop?

There is something so satisfying about being able to eat the food straight from the garden, to being able to break off a handful of silver-beet to add to pasta, or send the kids out to collect herbs. Pungent curly leafed parsley, whole bushes of bright green basil, fresh sage, thyme and rosemary leaves sprinkled over roasted organic potatoes are divine.

So, it doesn't sound like much but that's what happening in our backyard. Our vege patch makes us feel closer to the earth, feeds us and entertains us. There is always something to do ­ even if it's just feeding the chooks, or mixing up new brews to feed the plants. There is nothing quite like harvesting a fresh vegetable ­ be it capsicum, tomatoes, beans or corn, and eating it as you stand with your feet in the dirt. It makes the shiny baubles and bargains sold in the latest boutique seem irrelevant and insignificant. To see a seed you've saved and planted pop out of the soil gives hope for the future. (To see a two year old eat a green vegetable and enjoy it seems like a miracle.) Our vege patch keeps us fed and sane. What does yours do?

P.S. Our broad bean seedlings are struggling along under the recent cold snap that frosted over most of southern australia. The chickens have finally got their beaks around the remains of the Summer runner beans, they seem to enjoy the soft green leaves. Most of the summer basil bushes are browning or turning to seed. Our brassicas keep struggling along in their stately manner ­ they are about 40cms tall.

July

There are many people who write that winter is the slack-off time for vigilant organic pest control but in our backyard the caterpillars and aphids beg to differ. As the broccoli begins to head and the broad beans tower over the poppies we find ourselves watching caterpillars munch our hard-earned produce in broad daylight. At least the slugs have the decency to wait until night to eat the lettuce seedlings. And the sight of small woolly-bear caterpillars snuggling up to the nasturtiums was enough for me to mix some Dipel to spray delicately and lovingly around the most infested areas. The memory of childhood woolly-bear caterpillar rash has made me less than tolerant to these cute looking critters. The rash is caused by small hairs embedding into soft skin a common situation for Adelaide kids that like to play in the garden. I know it¹s the caterpillars only form of defence but there are some things even an organic gardener wont co-exist with.

As for the slugs, well, we just pick them off the lettuce patch and put them in a bucket to feed to the chooks. Our neighbours must think we are crazy as we venture into the frosty night with our ugh boots and bike lights on. We¹ve also laid down some beer traps which are basically plastic tubs positioned so that the top is level with the soil and then filled with beer. Slugs (well, Adelaide slugs) seem to love it and we usually find they have happily drowned themselves by the morning. We¹ve also circled the lettuce patch with a trail of shell grit about ten centimetres wide. I am not sure if this works but we haven¹t seen any slugs cross the trail since it was put down. The lettuce patch now has a 'fairy-like' look to it though.

We¹ve also given the broad beans a squirt of homemade pyrethrum and garlic spray just to keep the aphids and accompanying ants in check. I personally don¹t like spraying anything on the garden as it doesn¹t sit well with the concept of organics to me, but I console myself that an early 'softer' approach is better than dealing with an epidemic later on. A friend of mine has an altogether more difficult situation.

Something is eating her brocollis and mulberry tree. Not just delicately nibbling lacework into the leaves, or even munching artistic holes but chomping out the entire head of the broccoli. Only a gouged base at each center is left. The leaves are completely intact. The mulberry tree, which leans over the chook shed and veggie patch, is slowly being ring-barked as if somebody has taken a potato peeler to it. The sweet-ripe mulberry fruit is completely ignored. We think it might be rats as Goodwood has many historic rat friendly viaducts that run through it. And possums would eat the mulberry fruit before even considering the broccoli. If this is the case how does an organic gardener protect the veggie patch against rats? Does anyone have any ideas? A virtual organic chocolate frog to anybody with suggestions or solutions.

The first frost landed on the backyard a couple of mornings ago, despite the cold snap earlier in the month, and the grass crunched and crackled under my feet as I went out to feed the chooks our left overs. I¹ve been contemplating building a more substantial shelter for them but I know they¹ll just stare at it with disdain from their roost on the camellia. The camellia doesn¹t seem to mind the chicken tenants. Its in bombastic blossom at the moment. Bright pink blooms the size of my fist bursting forth. The constant chicken droppings at its base seem to be exactly what it needs. Next to the Camellia the orange tree has produced a stunning display of fruit. Fat bright sweet oranges. They look like luminous Chinese lanterns in the moonlight.

We¹ve started adding a couple of straw bales to the chicken run and grass clippings which I will rake up into a pile just before the end of winter to rest in time for spring. We have finally ripped up the remaining eggplants, dead stands of corn, and yellowing tangles of cucumbers and capsicums. The chickens get to run over this area a few days each week to fertilise and weed for us. They certainly keep the grass at bay. I¹m contemplating raking in a green manure crop but I¹m not sure which is the best type.

Meanwhile good ol¹ silver beat and parsley remain our main autumn greens, while we wait for the broccoli to peak. We still find the odd capsicum amongst the up and coming beetroot but these are more unexpected treats than anything planned. A tomato bush has nestled under the potted lemon tree and has begun to fruit in the reflected heat of the concrete. Quite a surprise!

Whenever we get the energy we administer our homemade concoction to the veggie patch. I have a bottomless bucket¹ of old seaweed tea to which I add the odd comfrey leaf or nettle plant and stir when I get the energy. I scoop three or so cups into another bucket with a couple of handfuls of old pigeon manure and a cup or so of worm wee then fill the bucket with water and sprinkle the lot over the veggie patch.

Marigolds are in mass stock at nurseries around Adelaide. The bright orange-yellow blooms beckon from the trays but the reality of Adelaide weather makes for very soggy gardening. I dug a shallow trench along one edge of the patch to assist drainage. Our toddler son, Cedar, wedged himself in it and wallowed like a stuck pig. Joyfully the gum boots came off and fistfuls of mud where shoved into the mouth, smeared over the face, embedded into clothes. He looked so happy that I didn¹t have the heart to drag him from the soil. Nothing a dunk in the bath wouldn¹t fix later on.

We¹ve also befriended a local carpenter who is happy to give us as much sawdust as we want. We¹ve been using this to border some of our seedlings to deter slugs but the rain tends to dilute its effects. Rain gotta love it and be thankful for it here in this dry city of ours. It¹s so easy to forget the exhausting, intense summers when it rains. But it will come and when Summer does Adelaide gardeners have to count each drop the spend on their gardens.

Still my first ever successful Rannucula has flowered next to the clothes line, its soft butter-yellow petals are so pretty. And the Poppies elbow their way between the cauliflowers to bloom in the winter sun. I¹ve added chick peas and field peas to the bare patch that grew the eggplants, corn and cucumbers last summer. The 'green manure' has started to sprout. The winter black birds seem to be enjoying them.

August

August in Adelaide has begun with sunshine! Quite strange for the peak of Adelaide winter but so gorgeous in contrast to last month's cold snap ­ frost, hail, cold nights, biting mornings. The first frost landed on the backyard last month, and the grass crunched and crackled under my feet causing chill-blains. You know that you're a gardening fanatic when you go to the shops to buy slippers and come back with a watering can. It was a lovely sky blue with a gold trim and is so useful to administer diluted seaweed tea.

Now, you can almost hear gardeners run outside with glee, tending neglected winter jobs and planning the summer season. The chickens have celebrated my going on the lay again and squarking for more food.

In the meantime I'm learning a lot about peas this season. Snow Peas, Telephone Peas, Sweet Peas, Chickpeas, Pea Peas. I've read and tried to absorb the sage wisdom from Peter Bennet, Peter Cundall, Jackie French, and Esther Dean. Armed with the knowledge I gently planted a crop of field peas as a green manure. The blackbirds ate the lot. Lesson one: always protect your peas. I then tried to plant a row of telephone and sweet peas along the back fence. They developed the type of grey one gets with a hangover. Lesson two: peas like good drainage. I dug a trench and my son sat in the mud. Lesson three: do not let peas near toddlers. I then set up another potential pea patch in a sunnier, better-drained area of the garden. Lesson four: do not let chickens near peas. I planted a new crop where the chicken had been. Lesson five: never plant peas a day before it hails. They glared and sulked at me. Lesson six: lime the soil before you plant the peas. I gave my peas some seaweed tea. Lesson seven: never over-water your peas.

Like I said I'm learning a lot about peas. I say learning, not learnt, 'cause I haven't grown a successful pea crop yet. Trellis? Do somebody mention a trellis? Lesson eight...

Still we ate our crop of broccoli within a week. The patch measured two by two square metres ­ our most successful broccoli crop, so sweet and crunchy, not a bug or grub to be had. Dare I say it was even better than the organic shop broccoli? I only wish we had planted more but then we never guessed it was going to be so successful and so tasty. The cauliflower patch is currently meeting our collective crunch needs and the silver-beet swishes seductively at us in the winter sun. The experimental mass seeding of calendula, carrots, radish, bok choy and poppies continues to fight against the grass. So far the seedlings are winning, massed together and about ten centimetres in height. We will probably have to thin this living border but at the moment it's great to watch seedlings out-growing the dread couch grass.

Weeding? Do organic gardeners do weeding? In theory we're not supposed too because we've all remembered to add appropriate layers of mulch whenever the need arises regardless of rain, hail or shine. It might happen in Gardening TV land but not in this little organic garden. The rain watered our beautiful crops but kept us inside. The hail drove us to make vegetable soup and the sun: well there's nothing better than slurping a cup of tea and reading a good gardening book while the weeds grow silently beside you.

Most of the weeds I just pull up and chuck in the chook yard, or put in the worm farm. The nettles I chuck in the seaweed brew to boost the nutrition. The worst are those pretty little plants that develop tiny spiral prickles we used to call 'bindies'. They make playing the back yard most unpleasant and I've noticed they tend to strangulate anything competing with them. When we moved in the entire back yard was infested with these bindies but we are reducing the numbers gradually.

Pale jonquils attract visitors to the lemon tree and the mixed lettuce patch has won its battle against the dastardly caterpillars and slugs. I continue to border the edge of each patch with sawdust to keep the grass at bay.

We've relocated the chooks to scratch another patch out of the grass in preparation for the summer pumpkin and melons. Simon is itching to throw another couple of bales of straw into the chook pen for mulch. We are contemplating taking a leisurely drive through the Adelaide Hills to collect the odd sack of horse, cow manure. We also have a mate up in Lobethal who has the world's most docile donkey. Donkey hair and free range organic pooh is fantastic for the compost pile. If you happen to know an organic donkey.

I've noticed Strawberry seedlings on the shelves at the local nursery. Given that we've never grown Strawberries of our we would like to know if now is the right time to plant them out the back. Sometimes commercial nurseries stock things way out of season and I've learnt the hard way to check what is appropriate to grow when! Please let me know if you happen to read this and live in Adelaide as local knowledge is the best knowledge when it comes to growing conditions.

We've also bought some Brown Tree Frogs tadpoles local to the area and have placed a small pond under the nectarine tree. Apparently these frogs are rampant insect and small spider eaters so hopefully they will help reduce our mosquito population during the warmer months.

We sit in the unexpected winter sunshine and consider gorgeous flower seedlings and vegetable crops from the mail order catalogues. We'll have a melon patch next to the house to deflect the sun, sunflowers where the peas tried to grow, more tomatoes and cucumbers to preserve in the warmer months. And zucchini, 'Can you handle another zucchini glut?' a friend of mine asked the other day then sighed, 'I haven't got over the last one.'

Here's to the organic gardeners glut. I continue to move the chicken floor debris onto the veggie patch.

New Flash! Our pet Golden Retriever knocked over my bucket of seaweed brew and ate the lot right before our eyes this afternoon. I am completely devastated. Disgusting! I briefly considered selling him on the spot. Oh well ­ these things happen. Sorry, must get back to the veggie patch before the sunshine wears out.

Happy gardening!

For an inexpensive pot I cut milk cartons in half, remove top and bottom and placed them on a tray (make sure of drainage) and filled these with seed raising mix and placed cucumbers, zucchini and pumpkin seeds in each. Label these for planting out later. Let these grow until quite a good size and when the soil is ready for planting just place the plant (carton and all) in and water well. The roots will find their way through the carton and continue to grow strongly. Make sure the ground is well manured for these plants. Alternately, transfer plant carefully out of the pot and place in the ground. Water in well. The reason I like doing it this way is that it does beat the weed problem.

Must away, have oodles to do.

September

Stepping into September.

We are heading into Spring! Whooo Hooo! Not long to go now and the garden will explode in a profusion of colour and produce. Well, not quite but you get my drift.

Firstly, let me just say, since my last update, my partner, Simon, casually raked a handful of telephone peas up against the north facing fence and ignored them. They have all sprouted and are twinning up the old chook wire Simon has tacked onto the fence. Bright green with not a spot of mildew on them. I am not allowed to even look at them.

A couple of weeks ago we went for a drive up through the Adelaide Hills and collected seven bags of assorted manure for the ritual summer compost pile. We are thinking of hiring a mulcher one weekend to speed up the compost making process in time for the seedlings to go into the garden because my compost pile last summer was good but I would have been able to process it faster if I had mulched everything first.

Our friend Lisa, came over and we had a seed planting working bee. Together with Lisa's girls and the toddlers 'helping' we planted just about everything we could get our hands on. We planted two types of Broccoli, zucchini, 7 different types of tomatoes, 3 types of pumpkins, 3 types of corn, chickpeas, echinacea, chamomile, valerian, woad, indigo, chamomile, indigo, cucumbers, and other seeds I just can't remember. All of them have gone into tubes or punnets under Simon's greenhouse and we wait with baited breath. To date the broccoli, tomatoes, some zucchini, the woad and chamomile have sprouted.

Simon's greenhouse is a 'high tech': three pieces of thick wire arched over an old wooden tank stand with clear plastic sheeting pegged on top. The seed trays and punnets are balanced on some strategically placed bricks and watered every couple of days or so. The bricks help store and maintain the heat and assist drainage. The whole thing cost less than ten dollars to construct. Plastic milk bottles can be used as seedling punnets for larger plants like zucchini and pumpkin. You just cut the top off about ten centimetres from the base and stab a few small holes in the bottom. Fill with sifted compost to about seven centimetres. You can plant two seeds in these homemade punnets cutting out the weaker if both germinate. The size of the container lets the plant grow larger and stronger before transplanting them into the garden once the soil warms.

We are going to divide the seedlings so that Lisa can plant half in her garden in exchange for compost and seedling mix. Simon had to restrain us from planting the sunflowers, beans and watermelon seeds just yet. He says it's too early. In a couple of weeks we'll have another seed planting workshop for the next lot of things.

Despite the fact that we managed to save seed from some of our capsicums, zucchini, pumpkin, tomatoes, and runner beans. I am completely seduced by all the seed catalogues that come our way. Getting a parcel in the old fashioned post also adds another dimension to the fun of gardening. It makes me feel special. So we've just received a pile of packets from Phoenix Seeds: Penstemon, Chia, Luffa, Lovage, Delphiniums, more Larkspurs, more Roma Tomatoes, Creeping Thyme, Cinerias, Livingstone Daisy, more Capsicum, Bergamont, Caraway, Mexican Sunflowers, Liquorice, Gourds, Borage, Comfrey, more Silverbeet, Grosse Lisse Tomatoes, Pickling Cucumbers, more Eggplants, Sunburst Squash, more Spinach, Crimson Sweet Watermelon, Scarlet Runner Beans, Veronica, Mixed Poppy, Himalayan Poppy, Californian Poppy. Can you guess my favourite flower?

'Oh no! I've just been given a copy of 'The Digger's Club' seed catalogue.' I know it probably seems like heaps but really when you consider how much it costs to buy punnets from the local hardware or commercial run nursery sometimes its worth trying to raise plants from seed. Then if that doesn't work ­ it's okay to pop down the road and grab those glossy punnets of gardening heaven from the local nursery. That's what we do when the chooks get out and scratch everything to mulch.

I have found that Poppies object to transplanting so this year I am going to mix them with some sand and germinate them in compost filled egg cartons. That way I can cut it into sections and plant it straight into the ground. That's the theory ­ I shall let you know how I go in practice.

In reality the garden is looking a shambles at the moment, what with Adelaide¹s haphazard weather of late, one minute its raining buckets, next the sun is out threatening an early spring, but its too muddy to do anything meaningful without hermetically sealing oneself in water-proof gear. I wander out, make those mental lists gardeners are so good at compiling, pick some lettuce or pak choy before it all bolts in response to seasonal confusion, then dash back inside before it rains again. And it's not just our greens that are confused by the weather. Our chooks got through most of July and August off the lay, then the sun came out and BOOM an explosion of eggs. We strolled out the back door to find 23 fresh ones, all delicately piled on the one nest. Then it rained. No eggs. The next day the sun came and the chooks went into overdrive, queuing for the nest and dropping their bundles while in line. The next day it rained. No eggs. That's all right, we can respect a feathered girl's discretion but I worry that it's a recipe for egg-bound chooks. Never mind, the chooks console themselves by eating the Brussels sprouts we were going to have in our risotto.

We've slashed the broad beans and spread them over the spent brassica patch as a form of mulch. As it breaks down it warms up the soil and keeps the odd weed down. We've also ordered mulch from our council ­ you can get about a tonne of assorted shredded material for around twenty dollars. It has a fair amount of eucalyptus in it, from all the tree clippings in the area, so we chuck it in the chook run for them to rake over for a few weeks before using. Otherwise the eucalyptus oil present can inhibit germination of seeds and slow down small seedlings.

My ranunculuses are going ballistic! The garden is just full of colour. Bright pink around the sulking comfrey, red anemones in front of the beetroot. Purple, pink, maroon, and white stocks, sway in the winter breeze. Blue and white pansies sit at the base of the Silverbeet patch.

Mulch has been ordered, pooh collected, chickens fed, all systems are go!

Bring on Spring!

October

This month out garden is just full of colour. Bright pink flowers circle the comfrey, red anemones wave in front of the beetroot. Purple, pink, maroon, and white stocks, sway in the breeze. Blue and white pansies sit around the edge of the Silverbeet patch. The lemon and orange trees are in blossom adding to the delicate perfume of the ranunculuses. Our 'living fence' of calendulas, poppies, carrots and bok choy continues to keep the grass from the vege patch. The flowering calendulas are almost florescent orange contrasting sharply with the blue cornflowers.

I'm enjoying it all while it lasts because I know come the heat of summer most of the flowers will shrivel but by then I will be watching the tomatoes, pumpkin, cucumbers, corn and zucchini overtake everything. (Hopefully.) We have decided to use the ol' hills ­ hoist as a temporary trellis for the bean crop this year in an effort to create more shade. If its successful it will be a great 'cubby house' for the toddlers to play and might even stop our clothes fading and crisping in Adelaide's malicious summer heat.

We were given some 'Matador Beans' by some very experienced gardeners recently. We planted them over the October long weekend and they are already bouncing out of the ground and growing at a rate of inches each day. I stare at these beans with fairy tales in mind.

In the quest for more shade we have planted rows of giant sunflowers along the back fence and Simon frets over his hops crop slowly twirling up the western side of the house.

We have also established a new pumpkin patch along another side of our house, where the chooks tractored out the grass, for two reasons. Firstly we are hoping the vines will spread over the concrete area. Secondly the patch is just outside the bathroom so we will be able to pump the bath water straight out the window onto the garden. We used to empty the bath with the traditional 'bucket technique'. This year we are using a bilge pump to save on chiropractic bills.

We have made a very small pond under the nectarine tree and introduced eight native brown tree frog tadpoles. So far six of these taddies have grown into cute little froggies and, we presume, have hop skip and jumped into the lemon balm. The remaining two look like fat kalamata olives wriggling in the water. We wait to be serenaded by the sound of frisky frogs calling to each other in our garden. That is if they are not munched by visiting ducks. Yes, we have a duck couple that drop in occasionally and waddle through the lettuce patch, stare at the chickens in disdain, eat their food then fly off leaving our poor chooks squawking with indignation.

With Summer on its way and the term 'Adelaide drinking water' being a dichotomy in itself water use has proven to be an issue of concern specific to gardeners here. (Drinking a glass or tap water in Adelaide is like drinking a glass of hair.) Mulch has become the by-word of successful summer gardening and everybody has their favourite garden topping. Some people swear by pea-straw, others love newspaper, some can¹t get enough council clippings, and succulent lovers get off on gravel or colourful rocks. I reckon diversity is the spice of life and the life of organic gardening.

The sun has begun to prickle the skin ever so slightly in the last few days so I begun to contemplate the heat to come which inevitably brings me to the thought of Christmas...

Christmas! But it's only October I hear you say. Yes, but try telling that to all the department stores across the planet that have begun the stack and display bon bons, wrapping paper and those metallic tree decorations. As an organic gardener and one that likes to see trees kept in the ground Christmas makes me cross, (sorry, no pun intended). For a time to celebrate life I just hate the way we kill so many trees, cover them in crud then chuck them out a couple of weeks later. WHY DON'T WE BUY TREES IN POTS for goodness sakes! Or decorate a tree outside? Last year we bought a small native acacia, planted in a big blue pot, chucked a couple of strands of tinsel on it and Bob's your Uncle (or in our case, your ex-prime minister). A friend of mine saw our creation and bought herself a beautiful tree that had green and rust red leaves. She then decorated it with gold baubles and hide the plastic pot in a cane basket. Very sophisticated. In autumn we planted our tree in the back yard. It only cost us about ten dollars, including the decorations and the kids loved it and continue to see it grow. Why, why, why doesn't everybody do this? Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.

Happy gardening. Don't panic about Christmas just yet.

November

Right now it's a question of so much to do with so little time. My inner gardening voice is telling me, "Stuff the dishes, forget about folding the clothes ­ get out there and plant!" Yet, at the same time, the warm weather inspires a degree of laziness ­ long picnics and afternoon naps.

I know it's just around the corner, and I know I should be mulching the garden and shopping for Christmas crud like a women possessed but I just can't accept that this year is nearing it's end and any day now Adelaide will be hit by its annual heat wave. Already the days are average in the mid to high twenties but the trouble is that Adelaide weather has about as much reliability and consistency as your average politician during an election year. In other words it can be a mild 20-23 degrees Celsius with a beautiful, soft gentle breeze allowing the pollen to flow from flower to flower, the next day it can top 35 degrees and everything in the garden looks dehydrated, abandoned or dead.

The evenings are getting longer and staying warmer. Last night Simon and I sat in the twigh-light while the neighbourhood possums scurried along the back fence. We think these cute fat fluff balls have been eating our chicken's eggs but we are not sure what to do about it because while we have possums in the back yard we don't have rats. I think it might be time to relocate the nest area ­ which will upset the chooks no doubt.

Last week I planted most of our pumpkin seedlings and all of the rockmelons along the north facing fence and have wondered when they are going to leap out of the ground and scramble across the landscape. These melons sit in the lap of luxury, surrounded by lush compost, mulch and manure. I thought the reflected heat from the corrugated iron would encourage and early spurt of growth but so far when I stare at the seedlings in disdain, they just stare back. On the other hand our early zucchini seedlings we planted about three weeks ago and kept covered in individual cloches (basically a couple of pieces of coat-hanger wire arched over the seedling with a clear plastic bag fitted onto it) have bounced out the ground and already begun fruiting. Simon has named the biggest zucchini plant Vladimir. As in Vladimir the impaler. I don't think Simon's got over last summer's zucchini crop.

HELP! What can I do about the slugs in my back yard? It seems the last lot of mulch we ordered from our local Council was infested with slug eggs and now, despite constant surveillance and vigilance I just can't seem to get rid of the slimy ugly seedling eaters. They are have much just about all of the sunflower seedlings in our front yard and the beans we planted to grow over the clothes line seem to suffer nightly attacks. I've tried beer traps with some success and I've tried shell-grit and sawdust but that is ineffective when the seedlings are actually imbeded in the mulch. I've also sprayed the seedlings and surrounding area with pyrethrum and soap concoction but I don't want to kill our worms as well. I have been able to remove all of the slugs from the seedling trays by soaking them in shallow water. The sluggies come out so as not to drown. Another organic gardener has her seed raising area / greenhouse lined with gravel, which deters slugs and snails. Ducks? Yes, I'd love ducks but I'm not sure if our garden could sustain any more animals and last time I went out looking for ducks I ended up bringing home a Golden Retriever. I have heard that there are 'organic snail pellets' on the market but have yet to actually see them. Is this just an organic urban myth? If anybody knows about these utopian snail / slug pellets, or have any other ideas on slug control could they please contact me? I'M NEARLY DESPERATE as its very disheartening to go to all the trouble of growing things from seed to have them munched when your not looking.

In the meantime I have cleared a large area of spent cornflowers and old capsicum plants. The remaining brussels sprouts and cabbage plants also went the way of the chook pen so now I have about two square metres to replenish with chook tractored mulch, compost and the like for this summer's crop. This sounds reasonably obtainable but there's a living fence of poppies, calendulas and carrots I have to throw the compost over. Sometimes success can have side effects.

Last weekend, in a fit of energy, Simon dug out a new garden bed along one side of the chook fence. Even though the soil is heavily manured by our feathered girls it is mostly clay so we added some gypsum, blood 'n' bone, and composted straw. Then Ashlyn, my three year old, and I planted corn seeds (Balinese) and sunflowers (Giant and Mexican). Hopefully this will grow into a living wall and provide a degree of privacy between our barbecue area and the chickens. (There is nothing more disconcerting than nibbling on a free-range drumstick while your egg providers watch you on the other side of the fence. I'm sure the chooks aren't comfortable with it either. I get the impression they are re-running Alfred Hitchcock movies in their minds as they watch us eat.) Once the corn and sunflowers have sprouted (slugs permitting) I will probably mulch this new area with straw from the chook yard.

Now that spring is well and truly here everybody and their dog are holding fundraising fetes and fairs, garden shows and garage sales. These are great places to buy home grown seedlings and most are usually organic. I've managed to plant out ten different types of daisy shrubs along our front fence for less than half it would've cost to buy at the nursery. And it's a great way to support local schools, kindy's, garden clubs, community groups across the landscape as well. For example, I bought two large capsicum seedlings, a lavender shrub, and a scented geranium for five dollars at a garden fair last weekend. That's pretty excellent I reckon.

In a spring splurge I recently offered to maintain our local kindy's veggie patch so now I have two gardens to look after. I don't mind if it enables more children to discover the fun of organic gardening. I plan to put in 'instant gratification' crops such as cherry tomatoes, beans, corn (always impressive to toddlers), celery, basil, and watermelon (although not quite instant, but certainly gratifying). If anybody else out there has experience with 'kindy crops' and has some ideas please let me know. Thanks.

In the meantime keep gardening across our gorgeous planet!

December

This weekend the temperature is averaging a mild twenty-six degrees. The last weekend in November burnt Adelaide with two days of thirty-nine degrees. Next weekend ­ who knows. This is Adelaide summer. It is best not to leave home with out a cardigan or sun-block.

If you read this before Christmas I hope you have a good one. If you read this after, I hope you and your garden continue to survive the heat (if you live in Australia.)

Garden-sourced gifts I have made for Christmas in order to avoid the heat:

• Potpourri bath salts ­ dried flowers, Epsom salts, food colouring, essential oil ­ mix, bottle, give.

• Heat cushions ­ wheat from the chook feed bin, dried lavender, hops, roses, scrap of fabric, - mix, stuff, sew, wrap, give. (Every person I've ever given one of these too loves it, especially if the fabric is soft, like velvet or silky.)

• Face pack ­ dried calendula petals, oatmeal, essential oil ­ mix, bottle, give.

• Zucchinis ­ grow, give.

• Dried herbs ­ grow, dry, crumple with your fingers, bottle, label, give. (People who receive homegrown dried herbs are usually amazed at the intensity of flavour compared to the ancient crud sold at supermarkets.) Last year we dried basil, parsley, oregano, rosemary and bay leaves.

• Herbal tea ­ chamomile flowers, peppermint, lemon balm, spearmint are all great for tea, following the same process for dried herbs.

• Seeds ­ grow garden, collect seeds, pack in groovy envelopes, label and give.

• Pot plants ­ grow from seed or cuttings, pot up, protect from horrible marauding slugs through any organic means possible, water, label, give.

• Worm farm wee ­ bottle, label (with directions), give. (This may seem a very strange gift but it is actually fairly expensive in the shops and is great for those who can't have compost heaps or worm farms or for those who have potted plants and the like. Liquid fertiliser is also a decent gift to other gardeners so long as it's labeled with appropriate cautions and directions.)

• Eggs. This is fairly self-explanatory. Chook pooh ­ mix with rotted straw, bag up, label, give. (This may also seem like an inappropriate Christmas pressie but the thing is not everybody that is a gardener has access to free-range, well feed chooks and would have to buy this stuff at the local hardware store or chook farm for an outrageous price.)

• Lavender ­ any body that gives me lavender in any form earns my undying love, respect and gratitude.

None of these gifts are especially original, exciting or expensive but compared to much of the plastic stuff marketed in the shops at this time of the year home grown gifts are not only from the garden they are also gifts from the heart. Besides, after so much time, money and effort put into the garden through out the year its great to get something out of it. It is also another avenue to encourage others into organic gardening. I don't know what it is but friends and family do really love home grown gifts. I just have to be mindful not to give my office dwelling sister chook pooh and my toddlers giant zucchinis or raw eggs. If I had enough room I'd try to grow chocolate, coffee and tea because I know all my rellies love these things.

One of the things that seemed to help the garden get through last summer was diluted seaweed extract mixed with nettle and comfrey tea then hosed into the soil. I don't know the scientific reasons and perhaps I'm wrong but wilted plants seemed to perk up right before my eyes. I did tend to stink afterwards though, which is an organic gardener's lot really.

Mulch. I would never be able to establish a successful garden on rampant kykua grass if it wasn't for mulch. I'm sure that if someone lifted the house from its foundations they would find that the grass had grown under it entirely. The only thing that has ever killed this stuff, apart from a marauding chooks, is boiling water. I found this out when Simon cleaned out his home brew kit on the lawn last year. It looked as if drunk aliens had visited the backyard overnight.

The beans we planted have reached the top of the hills hoist and give a degree of shade but not as much as our poor old nectarine tree which continues to struggle despite half of it dying from old age and historical neglect. I am so impressed by the beans that I have also grown some in large polystyrene boxes to create more summer shade over the west facing lean-too. Simon's hops vines have climbed to the top of the house and are stretching back over themselves. Our pumpkins have begun to cover the concrete area and the sunflowers and corn my three-year-old and I planted are now a metre high. The cherry tomatoes delight the toddlers with their sweetness and intense colour, although Cedar, the two-year-old, hasn't quite figured out not to eat the green ones. I try to consider the way he spits them out as an active form of self-seeding. I can't wait for that moment when the babes will rip a cob of corn open, or pluck beans from the vines and sink their teeth into them. When a toddler eats organic vegetables with such gusto it makes gardening so worth while.

Most of the calendulas and poppies that formed our living fence between the lawn and the garden bed have died, exposing the carrot tops ready for harvesting. I had never grown carrots before and was delighted with the taste of freshly dug organic carrots. Amazing. The babes love them too, especially once they've washed the soil off. Once all of the carrots are pulled, and the seed collected, I will probably mow this area and put down a fresh layer of mulch and manure. After witnessing the many stages of this successful experiment; the early bok choy; the almost florescent orange calendulas, hot pink ranunculus in early spring; the scarlet poppies reminding me of French Can-Can dancers in late spring then the star marked seed pods waving between the carrot tops; I'm reluctant to raze it all. That's the cycle of the seasons I guess. Perhaps I'll find comfort in the first bite of fresh sun warmed tomatoes. Then I will know this is an Adelaide summer.

2001

January

It rained on Christmas day, causing us to postpone filling the paddling pool and sand pit for the babes. The pop up tent was set up in the lounge-room. The New Year in Adelaide has begun with a heat wave. January 1 - 39 degrees Celcius, January 2 - 38 degrees. Bless this tempremental, erratic and melodramatic weather.

Our corn is fruiting, the first sun-flower revealed their golden petals today and we have been munching fresh crunchy beans from our hills hoist 'pegola' for three weeks now. The tomatoes are fruiting, and ripening almost in a matter of hours but we have to be careful to harvest before the rats get them. Yes Rats. We thought we didn't have any due our resident competative possums but it seems the two fruit flogging factions have come to some sort of truce. Rat traps have unfortunately now become a new feature to the veggie patch. Pity neither of these furry families appreciate zucchinis. The stripped Italian variety seem to grow at twice the rate of the lovely deep green ones. Never mind, the chooks seem to savour these.

February

A number of radical changes have taken place in our organic garden of late. Some have been due to the absolutely disgusting heat Adelaide has been suffering this summer. Others are outside forces organic gardeners, especially those that live with poultry, have to take into account.

Firstly let me say it is stinking hot in Adelaide at the moment. The average temperature would have to be 37 degrees for the last four weeks and it's been 39 degrees more often than not. A 'cool change' usually means 33 degrees or less than 20 during the night. These temperatures are, on average, five to six degrees higher than any other Adelaide summers ever recorded. Needless to say, despite mulching, seaweed tea, constant watering and, for those really organised gardeners, shade-cloth over the veggie patch, gardens across the state have been browning and crisping before our eyes. So, after watering our poor veggie patch twice a day I made a radical decision. I harvested what tomatoes, zucchinis, pumpkins, corn and beans I could and let the chickens loose and stopped watering. That way we didn't have to worry so much about our chickens squawking for daily greens because they could scratch up the overgrown grass and leftover veggies. It has also meant that the garden will be well and truly fertilised by autumn, the next season for planting. It also means I'm not pouring litres of water, and paying massive water bills, on a dying garden.

This was a difficult action to take given that the sunflowers and corn my daughter and I planted are now higher than the lemon tree, and the tomatoes we managed to eat were so intense in flavour. However, part of organic gardening, especially in the veggie patch, is accepting the seasons for what they are and not forcing an artificial situation based on pre-conceived ideas. I tend to think that many of us still believe our seasons are a reverse timetable of England's patterns, namely that winter is a time of rest in the garden and spring, summer are the times of growth and production. For some plants this may be the case but our seasons are so different, especially in Adelaide.

The belief that summer is the boom crop time is a case in point and this summer in Adelaide has helped me accept that any extreme in temperature encourages rest. So much so the chickens have been trying to come inside whenever we open the back-door. They all want to flake-out in front of the air-conditioner. When its really hot the poor chooks simply stand with their wings outstretched. They look like a performance-art ensemble. When this happens we rig up a mister so the chickens can stand in some cool air and gain some relief.

The other reason I have stopped watering our garden is the recent outbreak of Mediterranian Fruit Fly and subsequent spraying of entire surrounding suburbs. Just about everything that doesn't move has been sprayed with Lebaycide and Hymal and it has been very difficult for organic gardeners to negotiate otherwise. The only way to escape systemic spraying is to volunteer to have the entire garden stripped of this season's produce. That includes all fruit, pumpkins, eggplants, tomatoes, zucchini.. everything. We are in the quarantine area at the moment but watching men dressed in blue suits spraying tank-loads of insecticide and pesticide only blocks away is not encouraging. I have been lobbying against such a 'trigger-happy' mentality but there is only so much a mother of two toddlers can do. It is another reason why I have let my chickens have the run of the season's vegetables. Living in a rental makes it easier to step away from the garden but for those that have cultivated an organic veggie patch, orchard and feathered friends the situation is difficult and distressing. In the meantime I wait for this Fruit Fly Summer to be over and continue to question chemical treatments to biological problems. If anybody wants to discuss Fruit Fly issues, and possible organic solutions, with me feel free to email. I also think its pretty interesting that those spraying say it is 'perfectly safe' but admitted they did not spray around our Zoological Gardens for fear of killing 'exotic species' and potential litigation. A friend of mine, who tried to negotiate out of spraying, responded to this with, 'What about my children? I've only two of these, that makes them an exotic species don't you think?'

In the meantime I wait for the weather to change. Hope gardening is happier for you wherever you are on this precious planet.

March

I must say the garden and my poor chooks have suffered from Adelaide's vicious summer. Even patches of the khakua grass have died and no matter how much we water, everything looks as though it's hanging on for an early autumn. Given the effects of greenhouse warming I doubt this week will be the last of the heat.

I must confess we have been directing our garden energies elsewhere, spending every weekend and available moment looking for a house (with a garden of course) or property to buy. Which gives rise to a number of gardening dilemas. Firstly, real estate agents within the suburbs value land as something to be built upon not garden; so we have been considering ads that say 'renovate or redevelop' because that usually implies that there is space available. But then we have to compete with developers who have no qualms knocking down a piece of history for high income, high density units. Anything that states 'room for an extension' is usually snapped up and extended upon. Most of the gardens we have cultivated over the years now have units on them. This is a fact of 'urban renewal'. Still, we continue to express that gardens are important to the landscape and human happiness. To this end we have decided to move out of the suburbs 'up' into the Adelaide Hills.

Yes, we have taken that leap into mortage land and managed to buy ourselves a cottage on three acres in Mylor, which is just a hop skip and a jump from Stirling. It was a deer farm that basically went bust. Fully fenced with a winter creek running along one boundary. It's quite exciting and slightly overwhelming. Three acres of over-grazed land... three acres of land... three acres of gardening delirium! The first thing I will be doing is attending a couple of gardening design courses as three acres is a different proposition to a veggie patch in the back yard, especially as I want to maintain an organic approach.

Yet, while we look towards our new garden we know we are eventually leaving the is back yard.

There are many things to consider when vacating a garden. The most obvious thing is to pack away all the kids toys, garden furniture, left-over seedling trays, gardening tools and recycle as much rubbish as possible. This process can take at least a couple of weeks if you have a back-log of recycling like ourselves. We tend to save things 'just in case'. Old buckets, broken pieces of furniture, paint, old computers, books, magazines, beer bottles (why did I marry a home brewer?) the beer fridge, inherited tools, baling twine, cardboard boxes, eskies, stakes, fencing wire. Just to name a few. And we always ask ourselves, 'Why do we have so much crap,' as lug yet another load to the car from the shed. This is not to say that we don't recycle fortnightly. We often out-do most recycling crates on our street. Christmas was a case in point. We had eight boxes of paper and cardboard, three boxes of milk bottles, and two boxes of recycled glass, tin etc. I'm sure the garboe's cringe every time they pick up the recycling at our house. Yet when moving time comes around we always find a crate of milk-bottles, saved wrapping paper, a years stock-pile of toilet rolls to make Christmas crackers. We are hopeless. Forget the minamalist look in this house ­ just opening a door to the spare room is an achievement. And this hoarding / recylcing extends to our garden. Seedling trays, pots, compost bags, bits of wood that 'might come in handy one day'. (Oh yeah.) Tools so old and rusted you could get Tetnas just by looking at them. Pieces of orange bags used to protect ripening fruit. Wooden crates and old cane baskets adopted as chook nest sites. Toys, broken sprinklers, empty bottles of seaweed extract. And, of course, the unmentionable ­ presents given by your best mates (and loving family members) that you can't stand having in the house, but can't bring yourself to chuck in the nearest Salvo's bin. Don't deny that you haven't got them. Just don't give them to us because our garden shed is full.

So, the question we have been asking ourselves is this: When you move do you take the garden with you? Above and beyond all the left-over furniture and un-recycled recycling. Or do you hire a whopping great skip and purge, then move onto your next open planned dwelling? What about the chicken nests? How will the feathered girls cope with the move without their security blankets? Do you take all the compost and leaf litter that the chooks have been dilligently tractoring in the pen for the last three months. What about the beautifully ripe compost that just begging for seedlings to be planted into it? What about grass clippings from the last minute mowing? These combined make an instant veggie patch which would be great if you are moving to a place that doesn't have one yet. But what about potential disease and seeds from weeds and the like? There is that danger. And the bucket of lovingly fermented seaweed and comfrey tea. Empty it or risk spilling it in the car? What would you do? What about favourite trees and plants? Do you risk transplanting or take cuttings, save seeds or just leave for the next tenants to nurture or ignore? Many of my friends have advised us to transplant the plum and cherrie treelings we planted early last year but they will fruit for the first time in six months so have decided to leave them to those that find them. It is a fact of life that trees are not pieces of furniture until they are dead. Potted trees are more reliant on the continued care of the gardener, especially during summer but we prefer to let our soil do the talking.

So many decisions to make and we haven't even moved yet. Nevertheless being in a state of flux doesn't encourage mulching and planting for the new season. Such are the dilemas of moving house and garden. I pass the nurseries knowing that I'm missing a prime planting season but hopefully next time you read this I could be planning what to do with three acres!

May

May in Mylor

Well, dear veggie patch readers I have to admit, the change from a suburban backyard to three acres has been overwhelming. There is something so exciting about actually owning land compared to renting a place from not so sympathetic landlords. We have begun gardening in earnest, spending every available moment pulling down existing deer fences, mulching, digging a trench about fifty metres long to assist drainage in the top paddock, chopping down blackberries, hoisting up a swing under our willow, and of course, visiting the local hills nurseries to see what people stock and grow in this area. As I’ve mentioned before Mylor is usually three degrees cooler than Adelaide suburbs and it is supposed to rain more often than not. HOWEVER, this has been a dry year for South Australians with no substantial rain for the plains or hills. Mylor is not on mains water and we have had to pay for water to be delivered twice since we have moved in. This has had major ramifications for our garden plans, especially the proposed veggie garden.

The veggie patch.

We have mulched six circles, around a metre in diameter, within a larger circle, in order to create a mandala garden. We had the weed infested paddock mowed then covered the garden areas with cardboard, horse, cow and alpaca manure, then a thick layer of straw. Between each circle, we plan to pave the pathway with sawdust and a pond is supposed to go in the centre of the circle. Due to toddler safety I have suggested that the pond be replaced with a scarecrow, at least until the kids go to high school. We plan to have two ‘crop’ circles established before
spring complete with a green manure, chicken tractor system in place. Many locals have helped with the cardboard supply and most of Mylor waits to see what we are going to do next. (I think they believe we are re-creating alien crop circles ? a la X-files.) In the meantime, we wait for rain to help the mulch breakdown and enrich the overgrazed and compacted soil. Until then there is no point in us trying to plant seedlings in such a dry situation.

Digging after such a baking summer is only for masochists so we just keep layering the garden with as much ‘soil food’ that we can find and in the Adelaide Hills that’s not very difficult. Just about every road has at least one sign selling ‘pooh’ in recycled grain sacks for about two dollars, which is amazing value given most products at hardware stores at twice that much. Straw is also easy to come by and if its slightly spoiled /rotten it is very cheap. The main street of Mylor is
lined with European trees; Oaks, Elms, Ash tree all in gorgeous autumn splendour now. Pathways and lawns smothered in crisp amber leaves. No one minds a couple of wheelbarrow loads removed for the chooks at home. The feathered girls just love scratching through the leaf litter and looking for juicy bugs and grubs. Oak leaves are said to be especially beneficial to the garden so we will try it and see.

We raised collective eyebrows in the town by removing a high wall made from railway sleepers that blocked our house from the main road. Many people did not realise that there was a house behind the wall and were using the front of our house as a car park. Simon found a rolled up length of rusted federation wire fence in the creek. After removing the sleepers, we replaced the front with the federation fence and the effect was almost immediate. People stopped parking in the front of our house and the poor, sad garden beyond the verandah had a new lease of light.
Absolutely neglected and ridden with snails it needed immediate TLC so I ripped out the weeds, grass, blackberry and the metres of grid fencing, which was obviously installed for the grapevine sulking under the verandah. Many of the locals protested as they thought I was ripping down the grapevine but I have since reassured people that the vine survives, if in a neater form. We used the sleepers to ‘pave’ under the verandah and filled the gaps with red sand to give some warmth to the front area. Again, we mulched the hungry soil with loads of alpaca, horse and cow manure, straw, blood and bone, dolomite and seaweed tea.
I spent ANZAC day planting out lavender, cornflowers, delphiniums, rosemary and other blue flowering plants but these promptly dehydrated and were scratched up by the chickens.

(It is practically a national tradition that it rains on ANZAC day in Adelaide, as well as Easter, so I looked to the sky to water my garden but to no avail. For the record ? ANZAC day is the national day of observance for all Australian and New Zealand army forces who have engaged in war through-out Australia’s history. It has particular relevance to Gallipoli but that’s another story...)

So… now we are re-fencing the front garden to stop the chooks. We have planted ten Australian red Cedars and two mountain Ashes in the back paddock. One hundred wattles and native she-oak seedlings have also been delivered for the back paddock and the fruit and nut orchard has been planned and will be planted as soon as the rains soften the ground.

Mylor has a ‘gardening club’ meetings of which are hosted in member’s garden on a monthly basis. Keen to meet other likeminded people I went along to a meeting and garden tour last week. The roses and agapanthus were beautiful, the enormous expanse of north facing lawn was immaculate but there wasn’t a veggie patch in sight. Under the autumn sun we sat, drank tea and coffee and talked. Most confessed to not being overly keen gardeners saying, ‘It’s so much work,’ and bemoaning the fact that the lawn is not mowed nearly often enough. It surprised me that gardening can be perceived as ‘work’, especially that this was a
gardening club and many we’re surprised at my enthusiasm to get out into the dirt. Many suggested that I was naïve and ignorant and I hesitated to explain otherwise. I decided redouble my efforts and let the garden speak for itself, come spring. I personally find it frustrating to see beautiful land not used to grow gorgeous organic fruit and veggies, as well as the obligatory roses and flowers. I felt slightly bewildered by the reticence of others to actually garden but it was a pleasant morning nonetheless. Simon sagely put it; ‘Perhaps it should be called a garden club, where they walk through the garden to the coffee and cake, not a gardening club.’

As I came home, I thought of that saying ‘Work is love in action’ but I could not bring myself to really believe that gardening is work, even at it’s most strenuous. Gardening is love in action. Gardening is life in action. Gardening is the culmination of love for life.

On a different note, a public meeting regarding the spraying to eradicate fruit fly in the Adelaide suburbs took place last night. Over two hundred people turned up to express their concerns on the impact of fenthion and malathion on their gardens, chickens and children. It proved to an informative, if slightly alarming, meeting. Alternative methods of fruit fly eradication are being strongly recommended and the public pressure on the Minister for Agriculture to change policy and practice has sharply increased. It’s a long race but the first steps have begun.

The first rain has just begun to mist the paddock beyond my window. I think I’ll go plant my green manure crop now. Until next time, happy gardening.

Fabienne

June

The sun is shining after three days of season-breaking thunderstorms, complete with thudding rain and lightning. Glorious for the garden. Most of South Australia had been waiting for this rain. Farmers have been delaying putting in crops. The Fodder store across the road has been making a roaring trade selling animal feed as many properties had simply run out of greenery. Now matter how sustainable farming and gardening practices are our ultimate dependency is on the water given
to us through the rain. So rain it did. After such a dehydrated summer and most of autumn, the weather, (in true Australian style) has switched from one extreme to the other. Here in Mylor it bucketed down, blocking gutters, flooding roads, overflowing from once dry creeks, sucking yellowing leaves from deciduous trees. All at once the autumn reds, yellow and amber hues above us were below us and, in the morning, grey tree skeletons held droplets of glistening water like jewellery. And the new chill in the autumn breeze is very hard to ignore…

Knowing the rain was forecast I have spent the days just before the storm planting seedlings in our newly established veggie patch. Feeling very guilty, I visited the local nursery and bought a variety of punnets. I had simply run out of time to grow an autumn / winter crop from seed. In one bed went the slow growing onions ? red, brown, white, and leeks bordered by, what I call sacrificial, flowers ? cornflowers,
nasturtiums, and campanulas. In the circle bed closest to the house I have put in a variety of lettuces, spinach, Silverbeet bordered by some left over ranunculi, anemones, poppy and daisy seeds. The circles further down the paddock seem to cop heavier frosts so I have risked some brussel sprouts, sage, parsley, and the odd flower for spring colour. Under the old gum tree I’ve propped up a garden arch and snuck in six or so pea seedlings. So, three of the six mandala beds have
been planted out and the whole bed has been surrounded in a sowing of broad
beans, which we will use for green manure. I’m not sure if any of these seedlings will survive, as I’m yet to experience a Mylor winter. What I can say, even in these early days, is that it’s a lot colder and the morning frost that coats the garden in much thicker. So I have sown the seeds and seedlings with a philosophy of learning. Next year will be different as I won’t have had to move and unpack a house during prime planting time.

We have found some hidden blessings in the new environment. The drain that comes from under the road onto our property actually put people off buying this house and pushed the market price down. Since Simon has dug a shallow trench from it down to the creek drainage has not been a problem at all. With each down-pour it flushes a wheelbarrow load of oak and elm leaves onto the paddock. Instant black, thick, friable humus, especially when mixed with the soil and the concentration of worms that thrive around the drain outlet. I’ve been mixing this
‘instant humus’ with poppy and everlasting daisy seeds to broadcast across the garden.

The rest of my gardening time has been spent spoiling our feathered girls as they learn to adjust to new surroundings. We have bought six new red-feathered (sorry? don’t remember the name) pullets from the fodder store across the road. They are very beautiful with their soft fluffy feathers and pink combs. It will be a delight to watch them fill out and gain confidence scratching the dirt and nibbling the grass. I’ve gained a reputation as slightly ‘eccentric’ collecting fallen leaves from blocked drains and gutters along the main road. I’ve also collected a barrow-load of pine needles and chucked the lot into the chook pen. The fodder store, across the road, has kindly offered the ‘sweepings’ from the straw, hay, lucrene stacks it stocks. How lucky am I? How lucky are the chickens?They just love scratching through this gift, pecking out the leftover grains and processing it into beautiful, soft mulch. This gorgeous combination of leaves, sweepings, pine needles, chook pooh and kitchen scraps had been actively ‘tractored’ and I spent yesterday spreading this out to create an instant strawberry patch. I’ve planted twenty five crowns of various varieties into this mixture, using a bag of compost to buffer the young plants from the fresh chicken pooh. Once the crowns have established a little I will cover the strawberry patch with a light scattering of leaves as mulch. Hopefully I will be able to harvest my own batch of yummy, fresh, organic strawberries. A punnet of organic strawberries usually sells for about five dollars.

It seems that every time I update this gardening article I have something new to tell. Only yesterday the roses I ordered for the front garden arrived in the post. I am so excited about planting these beautiful blowzy climbers. I’m also contemplating an asparagus bed but I have been warned that it is a mammoth project. Next week Simon and I plan to buy some fruit and nut trees for the paddocks. So many to choose from, even when constrained by our own taste and the heavy frost that falls in this valley. We spend the cold evenings in front of the
fire drooling over pictures of lucious, healthy fruit trees and wish we could grow impossible crops like mangoes, bananas and coffee.

Dreams.. we’d need a glass house the size of our house to do that. Maybe next year.

Together we can change the world for the better fellow gardeners.

July

As I write this Cedar, my two-year-old boy is finishing off my scrambled eggs. He is saying, ‘Oooh yummy, lovely.’ Despite the frosty conditions, a couple of the chooks continue to lay for us. The yolks are like little pools of sunshine, encouragement to continue gardening through this weather. It has been the coldest June for seven years here in Mylor, with extreme rainfall after the unusually dry autumn. On a cloudless morning, the frost carpets everything in white and it’s usually ten or eleven o’clock before it melts. Just about all of the seedlings I planted last month have died from too much water or too much frost. Very frustrating as this time last year we were enjoying milder conditions and plentiful vegetables from our garden.

On the other hand, now is the best time to plant deciduous fruiting trees in the Adelaide Hills so we’ve been busy planting a tree at every opportunity. So far we have three plums: Ruby Blood, Satsuma and Santa Rosa; two peaches: ‘J.H Hale’ and ‘Flavour Crest’; a black and red currant; two raspberry canes; and a Nectarine: ‘Goldmine’.

We drool in anticipation of beautiful fresh fruit in the summers to come. Two or three years may seem a long time to wait for fruit but it’s worth it given organic plums and peaches retail around thirty dollars a kilo during Christmas. It’s very exciting to choose what you envisage eating from your own paddock in a few years time. We’ve mulched our tree-lings with oak leaves, dolomite, blood and bone so by spring this would have broken down for the roots to absorb, ready for a side dressing of horse manure and straw.

The strawberry crowns I planted last month have begun to unfold their cute green leaves and if they continue to thrive, we will be munching fresh berries come summer. I just have to be vigilant about pests and birds. I’m not sure how I’m going to fend off the beautiful feathered inhabitants of Mylor. Just outside our house stands an old eucalyptus that seems to be residence for about thirty cheeky pink galahs who graze on the oval during the day and finish off the sweepings at the Fodder store in the evenings. They bicker with the neighbouring rainbow lorikeets who have eaten all of the fallen and sprouted acorns from the oaks that line the main road. Although the lorikeets will be the worst fruit eating offenders come summer I love these birds. They look as though they’ve been rolling in paint with their emerald greens and lolly red feathers. Just outside our bedroom a family of kookaburras come and sit on the enormous elm tree whose branches just touch the windows. Kookaburras look deceptively plain from a distance but up close their blue feathers flash and shimmer like glass in the winter sunlight. The family of magpies tend to avoid the kookaburras and have staked the willow as their own. That way they can steal the dog food whenever Rosie’s not looking. They have such knife-like beaks that they sharpen on the metal railing of our deck. I’m hoping we will have enough fruit in the future to share with all these beautiful creatures. It is so exciting to plant trees for the first time in the hope that we will be here to enjoy the crop. It’s heartening to know a block of flats won’t be planted on them in the near future.

The second mandala is slowly taking shape. I’ve managed to mulch four new beds with cardboard, oak leaves, sweepings, blood and bone, horse pooh, chicken pooh and scraps. Another area of cardboard waits for me to muck out the new chook shed. Simon built a new chook shed after our feathered girls where attacked by a fox last month. We lost three even though Rosie chased the fox away. We’ve been told that’s not a bad average given the ferocity and size of the local foxes but I love my chooks and prefer them to die of old age than fright.

The new chook shed is fox proof. It is basically an old rainwater tank that was rusting under the willow tree when we moved in. Simon flipped it on its side, cut a door out of the top, and strengthened the opening with a wooden frame so that the door almost seals with the wood once it is shut. On either side of the frame nails stop the door from being pushed through by a strong animal and a simple side look stops it from swinging open. The door itself is a metal frame of strong unbreakable mesh. Simon then wired an old grill tray to the opening where the
drainpipe would have gone. The door and window face north to get maximum light and air. The base of the shed has been piled with straw, sweepings, grass clippings and oak leaves. An old drinking trough has become the roost. And over the whole rusting lot, we plan to plant kiwi fruit and passionfruit vines. Simon is fantastic at creating useful structures from what others would perceive as rubbish. Another bonus is that the shed is less likely to harbour wood-loving mites.

Most books recommend planting various winter vegetables such as beetroot, broad beans, onions and early brassicas but I’m very hesitant to do so given the extent of the frost in Mylor. It has killed all but a few of my vegetables, except the onions and the flower seedlings are either dead or sulking. I continue to pile the no-dig beds with mulch and assorted manure for the spring rush and Simon has begun to plant brassica seeds in punnets under a glass frame on our north facing deck.

The circle of broad beans were treated with a dusting of wood ash, blood and bone and the surviving plants have been sprayed with a homemade mix of pyrethrum, seaweed tea, worm wee, garlic and chilli infusion.

But I do feel somewhat foolish given that most people here in Mylor seem to let nature and the garden take it’s natural course. The effects of frost seem quite difficult to avoid so I look forward to the time when we can finish building our glasshouse.

In the meantime I am grateful for the rain, when it comes, and wait for the spring sun.

Fabienne

August

I have just been reading all of the August updates before I send news from wintry
Mylor and I must say I am sooo jealous, especially of Debby in Michigan and
Dan in Southwest Missouri, even of Betty in New South Wales. Oh for a mild,
productive winter and home grown tomatoes. I'm just going to have to wait. For
this misty, frosty Mylor winter to pass. By the way, Dan, don't worry, all organic
gardeners are mad and everyone in Mylor thinks I'm crazy.

Outside a gang of pink galahs rip through the manured veggie beds for worms or
whatever they choose to nibble for their afternoon tea. On the deck outside my
window and pipping shrie warbles in high pitch. Four native ducks waddle over
the frost weakened seedlings and drill the ground for whatever they fancy. These
cute brown and black birds are so funny. They sit in the trench we have dug and
hope to coast down the hill on the slow current of water. It has been raining here
in Mylor, on and off for five days and the ground has become sodden. The duck
pond is full, the worn patch of grass under the swing has become a muddy puddle
and everything looks cold and sad. Except the wattles. We only have three but
the one in the bottom paddock is in mesmerising bloom. Almost acid yellow it
contrasts so boldly with the grey-greens of the eucalypts behind it.

Uh ­ oh, a couple of native ducks waddle cautiously towards the chooks, then
think better of it and veer away. The chooks are very cranky with this weather, or
maybe I'm projecting. Either way they have stopped laying and there is nothing I
can do about it, short of putting a sun-lamp in the chook shed and that's just too
desperate.

We have two new inhabitants since my last update, both destined to add more
manure to the garden and hopefully keep down the grass. The local kindy has a
small chook shed for the children to visit and interact with animals but all the hens
have died from old age over the years leaving a rather bewildered oversized
rooster, nicknamed 'Big Red'. I offered to swap out bantam silkies for the lovely
Red. He is so beautiful with his sunset red feathers, ruffled neck and shiny black
tail. He has since been re-christened 'Pickle' by the children and the younger
hens follow him around the paddock.

The other new arrival is a small grey rabbit, named 'Queenie' who was bought
during a lapse of reason a week ago. I plan to resurrect an old rabbit hutch that's
rotting in the shed and turn it into a rabbit tractor to keep patches of grass down.
She is very cute and cuddly and I'm not allowed to tell anybody in this farming
district that we have a resident feral or my name will be mud.

As for the garden itself, well it's raining again here in 'sunny Mylor' and is
forecast to do so for the rest of the week. Most of the beds are ready to be
planted into come spring. In the onion bed I've sprinkled All Seasons Carrots,
Poppy seeds saved from last summer, and a mixture of lettuce seeds. We've had
to fence this bed from curious native ducks as they love to nibble and munch tasty
seedlings.

In front of me I have about fifty punnets of seeds I've prepared during the last few
days. I'm craving the summer taste of ripe tomatoes so I've planted Roma,
Bellstar, Daydream, Principle Borghese, Yellow Pear and Grosse Lisse. As I said,
I'm craving tomatoes. Everything else has just been a random selection:
Telephone Peas to plant along the playground fence; Borage for the strawberry
patch; Delphiniums for colour; Flannel Flowers for the front yard; Silverbeet and
Coriander for me (Simon is allergic to Coriander). The babes helped me prepare
some punnets of corn and peas as they want to grow 'pop corn' and the seeds
are easy to hold for toddlers. I know its weeks before corn should be realistically
planted but I think it's important to encourage gardening at any opportunity. We
have large north facing windows in our bedroom so I've set up my desk for the
punnets to catch the winter sun. I've protected the desk with a thick layering of
newspaper and glossy magazines. Most of the punnets have been made from
recycled milk cartons and filled with a combination of processed compost and
washed sand. I've planted the Telephone Peas in cardboard milk cartons and plan
to sink them straight into the garden bed, once worst of the frost has passed, in an
effort to prevent transplant shock. It rains so often here in Mylor that I even
managed to transplant a punnet of poppy seedlings with no adverse effect.

We have a new, very sexy looking, worm farm. It's basically a large terracotta pot
set on a couple of bricks. We put a few centimetres of garden soil in, some
blended scraps and a container of red wrigglers. Between the bricks we've put an
ice cream container to catch the worm wee as it happens. We've recycled the old
worm farm into the grain store to try and prevent the Mylor rats from rampaging
through the shed and house. They are built like Comando Marines, with the short
hair.

Every time I look out of my window I add another task to my gardening list. I
need to make another batch of liquid manure, comfrey tea. I need to rake out the
well-manured straw from the chook shed and make a compost heap for the spring
planting. I need to rebuild our ravaged Scarecrow. I need to cut up more milk
cartons to plant more seeds.

I need a full time nanny, cook and house cleaner so I can put on my gum boots,
red velvet hat, muddy woolly jumper, and get out there.

Just on the wasp theme. I went on an organic gardening course a few years ago
and one of the topics was ' Creepy Crawlies'. I remember the full-frontal-wide-screen-close-ups of wasps and spiders and wanting to run screeching from the room in arachnophobia terror. What I learnt is that wasps will catch large Huntsman spiders and paralyse them by stinging them in the spiders
spine. The wasp will then bury the Huntsman spider alive and leisurely eat each
leg over a number of days, or lay it's eggs in the spiders abdomen allowing the
young wasps to eat their way, leaving the spiders death until last. Spiders have a
bad reputation but wasps are eeviil!

All the best,

Fabienne and Simon

October

Most of the seedlings I planted last August have germinated in my bedroom under the protection of our windows and with extra light provided by an old desk lamp. The telephone peas have climbed the fly wire and give our bedroom a green 'tropical' feel but I will have to put them outside soon otherwise they will run out of nutrients. All of the tomatoes are at least ten centimeters tall in their punnets and waiting to be put out. I almost planted the tomatoes out on the yesterday. I'm so glad I didn't.

After a sultry week end (29 degrees and humid) it is raining this Monday morning and is forecast to continue for the week. This is great for our rainwater tanks (Mylor does not have a mains water system) but not so fantastic for our already waterlogged garden. We've added another 'duck pond' at the base of our mandala garden to assist drainage and its proved to be quite useful during the two days when the garden needed watering last week. I had planted a collection of broccoli, cauliflower, Silverbeet and lettuce as these tend to weather the spring frosts. So I just scooped the water from the new pond into the watering can, mixed with some seaweed tea and liquid manure, then onto the garden.

I made a different garden tea this year because I didn't have access to fresh seaweed, nettles or comfrey. I actually bought herbal teas this time, brewed them in my tea pot and added them to the bucket over a couple of days. I made nettle tea, chamomile tea (for its anti-fungal properties). To this I've added dandelions and nettles from the garden as they've come up. I'm still waiting for my poor
little comfrey to grow so I can add it as well. In another bucket I mixed a shovel full of cow and chicken manure each and half a bottle of Seasol seaweed extract. Needless to say it stunk but diluted makes a fantastic seedling food.

Simon has offered to cover a couple of the garden beds with clear plastic so the soil warms up slightly faster. I am hoping to keep everything alive until the first week of October as I've been advised by all the locals that's the best time for planting. I hope so.

In the meantime Simon and I busy ourselves with mowing the top paddock and planting out the many trees and shrubs we have been carrying around from rental to rental over the years. The lemon tree we have had since before Ashlyn was born (she will be five soon) has finally seen real dirt and the Feijoa Simon created from a cutting and we used as Christmas tree last year has begun to sprout
healthy green leaves since we released it from it's pot. All the fruit trees we planted and mulched over winter have begun to sprout their little green leaves or pastel blossoms. It's so gratifying to see what looked like a dead twig only weeks ago come magically to life. The old apricot tree outside the kitchen window graced us with it's soft pink blossom a couple of weeks ago and the peach tree next to it has begun to blossom as well. The old trees are still sick from years of neglect and strangulation from the grass around them. Simon has mowed the grass and we plan to mulch extensively and wait to see if it helps. If it doesn't these beautiful trees might also get a severe pruning come summer. The old figs, elms, will, beech, and oaks have once again begun to decorate themselves with that bright light
green that heralds spring.

As for the veggie patch itself, well, last night was the invasion of the slugs and Simon and I spent a couple of hours in counter-slug-attack. Dressed in soggy gardening garb, fluffy slippers and armed with a bucket of wood ash and a deadly spray of chilli and pyrethrum we went into the garden under the cover of darkness. Every seedling, from the curly leafed parsley, the new soft lettuce, brassicas,
my prized zucchinis had at least SIX SLUGS on each! Snails as big a fifty cent pieces cruised around like they owned the place. No wonder nothing was growing.

So, like a couple of weird pagan worshiping weirdos we began. With evil delight I sprayed each seedling with the chilli / pyrethrum mixture while Simon threw handfuls of ash creating a post apocalyptical frost (well, for slugs and snails anyway). In the torchlight we watched these slime bodied seedling destroyers shrivel up into blobs of froth and drop from our precious seedlings. I watched the slug massacre in delight. It reminded me that, although I consider gardening an integral part of my spiritual life, I'm definitely not Buddhist. Hopefully we will not have to do the 'slug apocalypse' too often but last night we had to save what seedlings we had left.

Up on the deck that is just outside our kitchen, I've planted a pot of snow peas and a pot of runner beans. Hopefully these will cove the decking fence which was made out of ugly mesh and painted red. We are hoping by the time the beans and peas have finished producing, the hops and wisteria we planted at the base of the deck will have reached the top to cover the area on a permanent basis. What's left of the peas and beans can then be turned into mulch. At least this area is not overly affected by slugs.

In the garden outside the front door (the area I describe as the 'blowsy garden' because it's flowery and frilly) I've planted five different types of lavender; English, French, Mt Lofty, Cottage and Grey Seal. I love Lavender. The roses I planted last winter have begun to bud and most of the daffodils, rannuculi and anemones are out in shades of pink, blue and cream. We've added a lemon thyme,
orange thyme, curry plant, chamomile, mint, more parsely and rosemary to the herb area. Between the cracks of the old brick paving I've planted lobelia's for the blue flowers. My favourite flower of all, the poppy have begun to 'pop' in cheerful oranges and creams. Our crazy red heeler, ironically named Rosie, ripped out one of my Roses and killed it so I will have to replace it next winter. Rosie has also eaten bits of the lawn mower and ripped up the couch. Rosie and I are not talking at the moment.

So, I'm gradually adapting to the hills weather patterns and the management of a paddock as opposed to a suburban garden. I still can't wait for the summer sun so I can enjoy beautiful summer vegetables.

November

After recently moving, it's a good time to reflect on how to start your own vegetable patch.

As someone who has moved, on average every twelve months, I can give a very good strategy of setting up an 'instant veggie patch'. Firstly, mark out the area you want to establish. Lawn is a very good place to begin, if you have any. Next, outline the area with a border of railway sleepers. Thirdly, lay a thick (I mean at least two centimeters) overlapping mulch of newspaper and cardboard within the border, making sure to tuck the newspaper under and slightly beyond the sleepers. Next, spray the paper / cardboard mulch and railway sleepers with a copper sulfate based spray (considered organic by NASSA) called 'Beat a Bug - Goodbye Snails'. Over the cardboard mulch layer pea-straw, blood and bone, and chook pooh (if you can get it). Then, and this is where this method differs from Ester Dean's no-dig garden, cover the entire layer of straw with a truck load of organic compost (in South Australia we have a fantastic company called SA Composters). This can be expensive in comparison to the cultivation of homemade compost but the aim is to create an organic veggie patch in a relatively short space of time. Finally, sprinkle over a light covering of pea straw, enough to retain moisture over the summer months. Then plant seedlings into your instant organic veggie patch, making sure each is in contact with the compost and surrounded by a decent amount of straw mulch. Water in well and you shouldn't need to top the patch with a new layer of compost or mulch for at least six months, giving you enough time to get on with life and parenthood. To maintain the veggie patch, mix up a bucket of seaweed extract, worm extract, a handful of blood and bone or chook pooh, adding to it with weeds whenever you get the chance and water the garden with a dilution of this once a week. If pests prove to be a problem a homemade mixture of garlic, pyrethrum, chili, pepper and mint will help control most pests with a minimum of fuss. Setting up such a patch could take time in planning and ordering materials (ie, compost and sleepers, compiling paper and the such, although moving house leaves many cardboard boxes to dispose of) but should take an afternoon to create.

If you wanted to be really organized a sprinkler system could also be installed at the centre of the patch to reduce time spent as well. I'm still keen on sticking a sprinkler on the end of a pitch fork but that's me.

Of course this is nothing like our garden and I will never be that organised. It is still raining on and off in beloved Mylor but we have had brief moments of sunshine within the last couple of weeks. We finally realised that we needed to have raised beds and have since built two key-hole beds over our original mulched area. We traded a pallet of old red bricks for a flowering cherry tree and the effect on the garden is really quite marked. The difference in soil temperature has enabled me to plant out some of my tomato seedlings, intermingled with basil, capsicum, eggplants and lettuce. In the lower areas of the paddock we have bordered the beds with pieces of wood which has helped keep down the marauding grass so I've been able to plant out some Early Chief Sweet Corn, beans of various varieties, pumpkins from saved seed, cucumbers, squash, a couple of Romanesco Zucchini's, eggplants - ping tung and the rounder varieties- some capsicums and good ol' Fordhook Silverbeet. (If ever we have our food supplies cut we will always have Silverbeet.) Our broad beans we planted over winter have begun to produce pods so Ashlyn spent an afternoon picking and podding these fat beauties for dinner. Most of our brassicas were eaten by slugs and snails despite our best efforts to control them but we have been comforted in the knowledge that this year has been the coldest and wettest spring for the Adelaide Hills for seventy five years. No summer broccoli for us this year but we have learnt that slugs will avoid Red lettuce as a rule and Rainbow Chard compared to English Spinach. The Red Cross Rose I planted at the center of the veggie patch has begun to flower in the most flamboyant way, its fat buds in gothic red, opening and billowing to an almost luminous vermilion. There is a commonly held view that modern rose breeds are difficult to maintain and lacking in vigor but if the perfume and strength of this rose is anything to go by I shall be investing in a few more 'charity bred roses'. The smell of this rose reminds me of the perfume distilleries of Paris and a small vial of attar of roses I once received from my Belgian grandfather. It is the flowers that draw me to the veggie patch and attracts beneficial insects, such as bees, as well. We did get a brief appearance of aphids but a quick homemade pyrethrum and garlic spray soon put that to rest. The newer roses at the front of our house have begun to bud with no sign of aphids, they seem to benefit from the companion planting of garlic, mint, lemon balm.

I could go on but I'm afraid I've run out of time this Australian election week-end and am exhausted by the overflow of political rhetoric pouring from our television set last night. There is something so healing and soothing and real about planting a seedling and wandering through the garden compared to the uncertainties of politics and government.

I hope gardening continues to provide hope and sustenance to all organic gardeners across this presently troubled planet.

Fabienne

2002

August

It is winter here again in Mylor and the wild and wet conditions make it very hard to believe that there is a sever drought currently affecting Australia. Nevertheless, farmers from this district have predicted a dry and harsh summer ahead.

Today is one of the few winter moments that I am grateful for the rain because today is Australia's National Tree Planting Day when all Australians are encouraged to get out there and plant at least one native tree in an effort to counterbalance land clearing and salinisation. Indigenous species such as local eucalyptus, wattles, casuarinas, tea-trees all get priority in an effort to reintroduce habitat for Australian wildlife and to keep the salt from rising up through our soil. Ashlyn's school, Mylor Primary, planted one hundred trees so the soaking will increase the likelihood of survival. Bring it on!

It's strange that the coldest time of the year is the prime planting time for deciduous trees, both ornamental and fruit bearing, roses, perennials and native species. When my hands touch the freezing earth, the rain is plastering my hair onto my scalp and running freely down the inside of my raincoat I truly understand the difference between the frailties of us humans and the adaptability of plants. It doesn't take me long to plant a tree these days. I've perfected the process down to a fine art so I'm usually steaming in front of the combustion fire after five minutes in the garden.

When it doesn't rain here in wintry Mylor the frost is harsh given that the Adelaide Hills do not receive snow. The duck pond tends to freeze each night and thaw by about eleven in the morning. The brittle sunlight is an optical illusion as it contains little warmth. I try to work up a sweat loading up my trusty wheelbarrow with fallen oak leaves, straw and chook pooh, bags of horse manure then heaving the lot onto the vegetable beds. The lower area of the veggie garden has been left due to the first frost wiping out my entire tomato, capsicum, eggplant, cucumber and pumpkin crop in a single night. Sure we might collect all the lovely top soil that slides down the hill but this valley also collects the frost and the grass resembles white shag pile carpet in the morning light. This is not a valley where you can risk collecting the chook eggs without gumboots. And if the frost doesn't get you, the mud will.

So, Simon and I sit and drool over Gardening Australia's new Darwin based presenter as she strolls around her tropical garden in her shorts, t-shirt and gorgeous straw hat.

I console myself by planting roses. A whole truck-load of David Austin roses were going for $3 each (normally they cost at least $12 a plant) so who was I to say no? Simon asked, 'Where are you gonna put them?' 'We've only got three acres', I said, 'I'm sure I'll find the space.' And I did, of course.

The middle herb bed has been divided and relocated along the edge of the surrounding vegetable beds, pineapple sage, parsley, comfrey, dormant lemon grass, thyme, oregano, french tarragon, purple sage. An enormous French lavender has been plonked next to the front door. When the weather is so cool and rain so consistent transplanting and relocating herbs is really easy and successful.

So, into the centre bed, around the Red Cross Rose, I've planted a: Radio Times, Heritage, Winchester Cathedral, Elangtyne. Around it all I hope to plant another hedge of English Lavender (which is much more frost tolerant than French, Italian and Spanish Lavenders). Up next to the front door and lavender hedge, I've added a John Clare, and a Tickled Pink.

Out along our drive way is the new bed I've created by mulching thick layers of cardboard and mulch left over from the blue gum we had to chop down last year I've planted a Cecile Bruner, pink Hebe's, a small pink Camellia, a number of pink flowering Correa's, an apricot, and plum. The theory being that during summer the fruit trees will provide shade and during the winter the smaller plants will provide pink flowers. All this can be viewed from our living room. I'm hoping to add more deciduous trees and native shrubs. Establishing trees, shrubs and mixtures of native and european species is a new project for me. And it involves a different way of approaching a space compared to the maintenance of the beloved veggie patch. You know, the veggie patch is a process of feeding the soil and planting compatible veggies at the appropriate times but long term planting is all new to me. I'm learning and it's daunting and exciting all at the same time.

Speaking of daunting.. I've been contemplating culinary inventions for fox meat such is the devastation of our chicken and duck population over these cold months. We were given ten assorted chooks, ranging from speckled bantams, mottled white hens, and a black rooster far too pompous for his miniature stature and a couple of red hens, to look after while their owners went to Greece for eight weeks. All of them were chomped by a fox within a fortnight. Day by inevitable day the fox picked a chook or three from amongst the bullrushes that grow rampantly within our back paddock. Winter foxes have no regard for humans, cars, chook wire or just plain decency. With only seven chooks left to our name we finished re-making our Mylor Millennium Chook Dome. There was so much fencing wire on this thing it resembled the Woomera Detention Centre but the aim was to protect our precious feathered survivors from the dastardly fox. We positioned the millennium dome over the old vegetable beds, reassured the, by now, very nervous hens, coaxed them into the dome and left them to it. Let me remind you that we live on MAIN STREET opposite the General Store and Fodder store. There is a steady stream of cars and people watch over our garden from dusk 'till dawn. Simon got home first and as we relaxed in front of the fire for the night I asked Simon, 'Did you put the girls to bed?' 'Yeah.' he said. As you do when you're watching Australia thrash just everybody else at the Commonwealth Games. 'You sure?' I asked. 'Yes, of course, I did,' my man of the trees said. I had a strange sense of unease but it was too warm and cosy on the coach to brave the winter night outside. Besides, Ian Thorpe was about to win another gold medal in the pool.

The next frost brittle morning I wandered down to the fox-proof chook shed. (we know this for a fact - you can see where the foxes have practically butted their heads into the galvanised tank from frustration) I opened the door to find three chooks. Where were the rest of them I wondered as I walked back up to our house, pass the millennium dome. On the ground in front of me I suddenly noticed a light spray of red and white feathers. Sprinkled in every direction. Radiating from the now wonky and ugly millennium dome. I walked slowly up to the mess and saw two chicken bodies wedged into the fencing wire. They must have died a horrible death. Marinated Fox a-la flambé doesn't sound so unappetising burying my beloved hens into the compost pile.

It is a tradition in this household that whenever a chook or duck kicks the bucket, or gets chomped, we buy a tree to plant with the deceased, thus continuing the cycle of life and death, blood 'n bone and all that. But we couldn't afford the high mortality rate and besides we'd be left with forest. So... being pragmatic in the face of mortality the ultimate gesture an organic gardener can make is boost the compost pile. All will
return to dust in the end so it might as well feed the soil that will, come spring, feed us.

When I continue to mulch the resting veggie beds, come spring I will remind myself of my beloved chooks.

In the meantime the three surviving hens roost high in the grapevine... two feet from our front door.

Must go warm up.

Fabienne

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Last Updated 7 January, 2003

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