Saturday, December 26, 2009

Christmas, digging up the no-dig bed, and broodiness

Christmas has been and gone - just us four at home; no travelling, no accomodation issues, no interpersonal scrimmage. Lovely. The boys were a hoot - Reilly loved his bed ("I'm tired. I go to bed now." "I'm awake!. Oh-oh, I'm tired again").

G's favourite present of course is the Ben 10 watch from his little brother. He even leaves it alone when asked so we don't take it away from him.
Got my granite mortar and pestle, which I love. 'Green eggs and ham' for lunch today with Christmas left-over ham, scrambled eggs from the girls and some finely pounded (pestled?) silverbeet, parsley, thyme and sage mixed with a little water to make a gorgeous green colour.

D gave me a beautiful knife block, which I've been wanting for ages. Heavy, and only one place that I don't have the right knife for. Have to buy a new knife...
I got him a turntable to convert his albums to MP3s, so we were both perfectly happy.

Have realised that my fundamental quality is laziness. Well, sort of. I reckon 97% or so is poor time-management and the other 3% is wanting to go back to bed. (On a good day, anyway.) I read recently a book called "On Guerilla Gardening", written by a bloke in England who is part of a worldwide movement of people who sneak out at night (or brazenly by day, often with official-looking fluoro vests on...) and beautify wasteland areas or small neglected and unloved parts of their environment. I thought "Oooh, yeah, chuck a bunch of seeds at a place and if it doesn't grow it doesn't matter - no commitment". On reading rather deeper, I realised that the initial bunch of flowers, vegies, trees, whatever is only the crust of this phenomena, and that maintenance of an area is just as rebellious, if not more so. Straggly flowers smothered by grass and weeds don't cut it when you're launching an attack on neglect and ugliness - they make it worse. So my previous rebellious thoughts died inside me when I looked at my own garden patch. I bought a good hoe today and got stuck into the place where the no-dig, no-maintenance grass-filled vegie bed is. I cleared along the fence for a section of it, and out to about a foot, where I discovered a small line of bricks buried quite deeply in the bed; apparently there was an edged garden bed there many years ago, before Dave's mum moved here. Have excavated around the line, which is still straight and level, and will use it for a path inside the new garden bed. I also planted a large rhubarb, put a small makeshift swale around it and gave it a bucket of water. I will also monitor the chooks' gate carefully. This time, I want the rhubarb to have the best possible chance at life.



Thinking of the chooks, I think Ruth may be broody - she's spent the whole day on the nesting box except when I turfed her out to get some of the good scraps I'd brought up. She was back on later. Doesn't appear to have any other symptoms, so I don't think she's ill. Will find out as we go along, I guess.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Summer

Summer is here ... sort of. Grey, muggy and cloudy. The garden was doing pretty well - seedlings up of beans, pumpkin, tomatoes (both purposeful and rogue), a few other things. Corn is doing well. We went down to Warrnambool & Port Fairy for a couple of days to visit the folks, got back and discovered that the chooks got out of their carefully constructed enclosure and ate through everything but the corn, which was behind a fence. Fortunately, I have the lettuces and a few more tomatoes in the front garden, so all is not lost.
Potatoes died off in the star-picket and chookwire so I harvested them. Twenty, and all small. I think maybe I should have been a tad less frugal with the water. More baths for the boys?

We got a new bed (for the bedroom, not the garden) a little while back, so the old one is out in the shed in pieces. When put together its like a box, so seems to me it's going to become a garden bed. Nice size for a square foot garden actually - about 4'x6'. Will try one. Our neighbours across the road were discarding some wooden venetians, so they'll become part of the bed as well, laying out the grid.

It's nearly Christmas, and I'm not as prepared as I hoped to be. Reilly's getting a big-boy bed, and I have to find the thing, buy it, have it delivered and set it up on Christmas Eve. Would *like* to do it and transfer him into it from the cot while he's asleep, but he doesn't sleep that soundly. If it was Gareth, I could hammer the thing together in his bedroom and he wouldn't notice till morning, even if he got up to use the toilet. Still have to organise Ros's subscription too, and maybe a voucher for Mike's glasswork. We'll see. *I* want a permablitz for my Christmas present, but it ain't gonna happen this year.

Have re-read Linda Cockburn's "Living the Good Life". Skipped the botulism story this time. I love the fact that even though they didn't manage to reach the goal of no expenditure, they kept going and did a ripper of a job of it. Makes me feel like it's a perfectly normal thing to want to do. Biggest issue is the expenditure building up for it - solar power, big tanks. But it's something we both want to aim at; even if we don't become self-sufficient (we're not likely to here on our 1/16 acre with Edwardian house and 60% of one income for the setting up of it) but the stories of the blowouts, the failures, buying goat food and saying "bugger it all" on a relatively regular basis make the whole thing more human and less 'out there' somehow. Plus, anyone who likes Vanilla Coke and Black Forest chocolate is allright by me.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Spring Fever

Every year I think I've mythed Spring Fever, then about this time I start feeling like the air is lighter and easier to breathe, and the garden has a siren voice all of its own. Calling me to put in the things that I really love to grow; clear, scrape, dig, pat, even weed.

Planted some apple seeds from supermarket apples last month. Forgot to water them. Tipped them out and they'd started shooting, then shrivelled. Felt like a murderer.

I have done a bunch of little things like tidied up the garden beds a little and started putting summery things into pots. Back yard needs cleaning up bigtime.
Love our chookens - I've been throwing them slugs and bugs and earwigs. They even ate a spider, though I didn't mean for them to do that. They get very excited over wriggling things and jostle for the first one they see, ignoring the others that are escaping into the grass. Have started to throw things one at a time. Hehe.

Work has been weird; too many deaths in a short time. Need to get out with my hands in some live soil and plant growing things. Nothing like a garden to perfectly complement palliative care. (Except when I forget to look after apple seedlings.)

Saturday, April 18, 2009

My list of stuff from yesterday has been sidetracked by a small person with a temperature of 39.6, and enough booger to cement the wall around the veggie patch, and by his brother who may not be as sick, but is very, very clingy. They have finally taken themselves to bed, bolstered by panadol, fortified with a warm drink, and peace - of a sort - is reigning.

And I want junk food. This is where it gets tough. The MOTH is up in Benalla for a gig, and will be there overnight. I am feeling crabby and sidelined, and would really love to get some chocolate and other nasties. Hmmmm...

(Later)
I am *proud* of myself. I shopped at home. Bacon sandwich, followed by a coffee scroll of D's that he didn't eat, and rounded off with a hot chocolate. All from our fridge and cupboard.
Not, perhaps, a meal that makes me proud to blog it, but junk food a la pantry nevertheless.

On the plus side:
I did get the lettuces and broccoli planted, and also put the peas in. And now I have two more good polystyrene boxes with to plant more stuff out in

Friday, April 17, 2009

First stuff first.

"Have nothing in your [life] that you do not believe to be beautiful or know to be useful"

I'm trying to shape how living life in a clutter-free way would look for me. My life is too full of stuff. This 93 sq.m house is too small for our accumulated stuff. We still have boxes from moving back here two years ago. How is that necessary stuff?

My life is also too empty of stuff. I often spend half the day on the computer and let the kids watch TV. I don't agree with that. We have an income that almost covers food, childcare and bills. This is crap. I'm struggling inside, screaming quietly to myself, feeling like I'm living on a very noisy building site, with my ears ringing constantly and no chance to get away from it.

I feel that I need to simplify life. I have a lovely little family; two boys of 4 and nearly-2, and a sweet MOTH who is about as overwhelmed as I am. This is a good start. A core of valuable things. I also love my work. I'm a nurse in palliative care, and it's partly that which is driving my frustration at this cluttered life. When you get to the point of no return, you only have time and energy enough for the important stuff.
People talk about their kids, their holiday memories, their gardens. Things that have brought richness to their life. Sometimes people talk about their job; what they loved about it, what they brought out of it into their real life.

Things I do know:
I need to spend less time doing nothing at all on the computer.
I need to spend more time learning about who my boys are really
I can - somehow - manage on 3 childcare days. Unless I work full time nights, then I need all 4.
I need to consider carefully why I feel I need takeaway at least once a week.
I need to go to bed. It's after 2am. Night shift throws your body clock out in inconvenient ways.

The areas I feel I need change in are:
  • physical clutter - house and me.
  • becoming more self sufficient
  • building relationships with people who already matter
  • better stewardship of my time
  • more considered use of resources.
One thing from each category seems like a good start.

When I wake up, I'm going to start.

I'm going to spend 15 minutes getting rid of extraneous crap from my bedroom. I'll discuss a garage sale with the MOTH.
I'll go to a playground with G and R. One with no coffee shop. I can't promise I won't read.
I'll clear the pantry and do a stocktake.
I'll plant out some of the lettuce and broccoli seedlings, and use the box to plant new stuff in.
I'll do all of this before I use the computer.

Today. But first, sleep.