My winter photo

 

Over the years my daughter Maya has taken pictures of me in my garden, usually in the middle of winter, starting in 2009, our first winter in this house. My husband had died the previous month, so the look on my face that year was a bit not me. But over the years things have improved, on my face and in the garden.

I did not realize that the winter photo had become a tradition until I looked back and saw that I had done it most years (except for 2012).  I have never made the photos public, because in them I am wearing my worst clothes, clothes which I very often wear in the garden.

2009

2010

2011

2013

2014

2015

2016

 

A rainy Sunday in Quorn

We get so few of these as most of our rain falls in the night. But a lovely day, soft rain without a breath of wind. Perfect to sit on the outside sofa and watch the cats and local birds do their thing.

What’s it all for?

My son Antonio recently expressed concern that all my work in the garden might be all for naught. That in the future, when we leave this place and new owners move in, they might take a bobcat to all my labours and reduce it back to nothing but mud in minutes.

When there was nothing

We have all seen it, the work done by loved ones being undone when new owners come in, and in the case of my grandparent’s front garden, put back similar to how it was before sometime after that. Only the rare garden outlives its owners by decades or centuries.

Sometimes I wonder what a new owner might do, and my main concern is where he or she will erect their large shed, as all people these days seem to want huge sheds alongside their houses. The days of a small collection of sheds down the back of the garden have passed. So I’m hoping future owners will put one where the caravan and vegie patch are, and leave the rest of the garden in tact.

I have had other discouraging moments when I’ve planted trees thinking, “what’s the point, I’m going to be dead before they reach maturity,” but the years are going to pass whether or not I plant trees, so I might as well plant them.

I can also ask Antonio a similar question, “are all those boss battles worth it?”, because to me they aren’t. I chuckle at him sometimes, because he considers Facebook games to be beneath him – a total waste of time, while he, discerning gamer that he is, is actually doing something worthy.

And then I’ll quote Beth Chatto at him and tell him that there is more enjoyment from the achieving, rather than the achievement. Although without the achievements there is no further achieving anyway. One thing I love to do is look at photos of my garden this time last year, or however many  years ago and look how far it’s come in that time. I love to watch plants suddenly take off after 3-5 years of putting down roots. I love seeing the proof that that particular year, I actually finished something!

Just last year.

We have gotten much joy from the improvements that have been made since I really got going early 2011, from the pond, the big slide, watching the cats run along the stone walls, the lovely shade of the carport and verandah, the feeling of safety the came from putting up walls and putting pavers and grey shale over what was once mud. Although even though we no longer step out into mud when it rains here, we still manage to find plenty of mud to step in!

And then there was the comment made by a great lady named Coral I met through the Port Augusta Garden Club; she felt that you would never have a nervous breakdown if you had a garden.

 

 

 

 

 

My first Andamooka Lily!

After years of driving past Andamooka Lilies in flower, in masses between Quorn and Port Augusta, I finally have one of my own.

My own Andamooka lily.

This one I bought as a seeding at Aridlands in Port Augusta, around 2009 or 2010. I saw nothing of it until 2012, when leaves appeared for the first time. And finally, three years later, the first flower. It’s a nice touch for Leyla’s grave, as I planted Leyla here last June – that’s her saucer there (she loved milk).

Andamooka lilies on a hillside at Saltia.

The Andamooka Lily or Darling Lily (Crinum flaccidum) grows all through the Australian outback, but isn’t so common in WA. I’ve seen them around here and also around the River Murray. They come up after summer rain. When I first saw them out near Warren Gorge a few years back, I thought they were some garden plant that had escaped, but they are natives. Like jonquils they have quite a pong, but the look lovely dotted through native vegetation, and I’ve been trying to propagate them for years with no success so far. I gave Kate Llewellyn a few seeds some years ago – wonder if she’s had any luck.

I love them, and that’s why I picked them for my gravatar.

A holiday at home

Finally after six dry months we had a good rain the other week, around 60mm. We did not see the sun for over a week. All through it the children played outside, mainly on the big slide, the bottom of which fills with water, but much time was also spent on chairs on the back verandah.

On the big slide

The weather was so different to our usual intense days of blue skies and heat that it felt like we were somewhere different and exotic. Meals also were eaten outside, adding to the holiday mood.

Amaru outside for a change.

However the holiday is over. With the ground soft at last, and no watering needed for a week or two, I have been busy working on pond #2 and pond #3.

Cactus flower bonanza

As usual it has been ages since a good rain, but given this is a dry place, I don’t suppose I need to go on about it. Some people believe that a flowering cactus is a sign of rain on its way, but that might just be wishful thinking!

Waiting for rain near the chook house.

Still, with this many flowering at once, I may get my hopes up.

Scrounged.

These cactuses with the red flower came from the local rubbish dump, when I went to get mulch two or three years ago. And they do not look like trash at all.

Stolen. (photographed by Isabel)

Got these white ones just a few months ago and now look at them! They came from a house near here, and were piled up ready to go to the dump. No one was home when I went to ask for some, so I took a couple of bits anyway, and as I did that bit from Ratatouille was in my head, “it’s not stealing if no one wants it.” “Then why are we stealing it?!”

Begged.

The pink one came from Grandma’s garden and grew slowly in its pot for many years before being planted out (possibly 20 or more). I planted this bed near the chook house in 2010, but fail to weed it thanks to the prickles. This one has never had so many flowers before, and I used to get excited if it had three out.

What happened to autumn?

Last day of April

We seem to have gone almost straight from summer to winter, as there have only been a few weeks of autumn weather in between. Just like Alice Springs.

Winter already

The super hot summer meant we have had a good wet start to the sowing season here, and three days after a decent 18mm it is raining again! I am thinking about the lovely wood I was lucky to be given which is out there and wondering why I did not bring some in.

Wet again

About half the time the block is still dry this time of year and doesn’t green up until June. This time last year my tanks were almost empty and I was praying daily that the water would last until the rains came again. And I was still watering my desperate garden.

12 months ago.

Nice drop of rain

From Monday evening it rained for three days –  we got just under three inches of rain just how we like it, nice and slowly.

By the tanks

There is nothing better than lying in bed listening to it on the roof, at least until a new leak shows up – will have to get up there again with the silicone.

Dryland plants enjoying a rare treat.

This morning the sun came out and revealed a green haze of winter grass which had been happily germinating through those rainy days.

Nice to have some green back.

 

 

 

 

From my grandma’s swing chair

It’s been nearly three weeks since the 45mm rain, and so I have been out watering this morning. In between hose-moves I’ve sat in the old swing chair that belonged to my grandmother, which is by the shed.

Before we built the house Edi and I with our three littlies sat here every morning, and had a cup of coffee and biscuits, while gazing out over the range. There was not much to look at in the garden back then.

Seven years ago

Since we moved here 5 1/2 years ago I have hardly used this swing chair, so when I do it’s like a trip back in time, and I can see how much the garden has progressed. The plants that is, on my behalf the area is suffering from serious neglect and needs a revamp.

From the swing chair now.

Autumn brings us endless sunshine with more gentle temperatures, and the caterpillars begin to march in long lines across the dirt roads around here. I try to avoid them, but this morning there was one lot stretched across the entire road when I took the kids to school.

Birds seem busier; crows caw, magpies warble and eagles soar while sparrows flit about. I don’t see them much in summer, and that could be because I’m in hiding, or perhaps they are too.

Leyla the 15-year-old cat has come to join me here on this chair as I try to write my ‘Nanobook’, a novel I started last November (National Novel Writing Month). The words are not coming very easily.

One thing I have no trouble writing is my journal, which is an extended version of this blog, or rather, this blog is a snippet of my journal. I started three months after Edi died and so far I have filled eleven 128 page notebooks with my scrawly writing – I’ve had lots to chronicle. That’s about three 80-90,ooo word books. Come on publishing houses – these books will help lots of people through a  lot of crap! Don’t make me self-publish them!

Autumn is coming!

Finally the heat is off and there are only a few mild summer days left before autumn is here. We did get a lovely rain at the end of that very hot four weeks, almost two inches, most of it falling in the afternoon which led to minor flooding around here, and that lovely sight of the creeks flowing for a short time. At last the big Bangor bushfire further south was dealt with.

Maya in the rain

The Easter Lilies that came up late January finally flowered, they looked a bit sad but I did have rather a stuggle keeping them alive in that awful heat. I planted these five years ago, and this is the first time they’ve flowered, after I moved them two years ago. They must be happier here than where they were before.

Easter Lilies in the pink garden

The song of the magpies each morning gives us joy during this part of the year. Autumn has a way of making me feel optimistic when it begins. But I’m starting to get why some people get melancholy, had a touch of that last year in mid autumn, for the first time. Or is this some mid-life thing?

I love the domestic mood autumn gives me, that ‘let’s get the house ready for winter’ time, and daydreaming of hot soups and puddings and oven-cooked meals and marshmallows by the fire. I prefer it to the restlessness of spring.