Dangerous stuff

... in very small quantities. My friend Pete Hawkes who is an Entomologist who works on ants has sent me a bunch of sample bottles with preserving alcohol (do not drink this). Ant size of course. From South Africa. It got opened by Australian customs, before being sent on (there is a sticker on the envelope). So I am now probably listed as highly suspicious and dubious person, if I wasn't before. Pete didn't even put a note in the envelope, to explain why he was sending 10 little jars - like 3 ml in each, and a bunch of sealing plastic envelopes. Must have puzzled the customs officer no end. I think I might try a note in the ant-return (they're for specimens of the various local ants - particularly big (maybe 3/4") solitary seeming things.) Of course it has turned icy - wind off the snow on Tassie I reckon so not an ant to be seen. Or maybe it was me sneezing at them. The snot will not GO AWAY.

On the garden front - I finally gave up and pulled out the cucumber plants - we got 4 cucumbers (accidents) and a couple of jars of gerkins (what I had hoped to get off them). Not bad for planting in mid-January though. Tomatoes should be dead... but I got 3 more little coctail ones which will be welcome. This year tinned tomato is kind of 'allowed' as really we only got here after the season. But we're being sparing on it. Reality allows the Zucchini a few more days tops and they too will go to the compost - one of them just flowered and 3 of 5 have little Zucchini. And hold thumbs - 4 jalapeno chilis FINALLY going red. Veg is slowing down though. I still have sliverbeet (swiss chard), carrots, fennel, beetroot, leeks, spring onions, a little lettuce, very very peppery chinese cabbage, some parsnips, snow peas, feeble spinach (curses) and broccoli. And potatoes and broad beans -- the last two not looking anything like ready yet. I think I'd better harvest some thyme and parsley (the parsley just LOVES this place - thyme - which I use a lot of less so. We will politely avoid mentioning mint as it has all DIED. What kind of gardner can't grow mint? And I have a severe lack of rosemary, a situation only forgivable by the price of lamb here.

The March of Zucchini

And so it begins... The march of the Zucchini.
There is another one that needs harvesting today. The wildlife however is adding a new dimension to it - something had been digging up seedlings, so I set two traps. Well, this time around they caught 2 mice. The second I spotted in the torchlight at about 9.30 pm, when I suddenly relaised I'd forgotten to cover with plastic cups the surviving beans - my night-garden looks like a disgruntled kids tea party, with added nightmare elements as the gut section of the mouse had been eaten. I retreated to put on boots - which I was an idiot not put on in the first place.

This morning there was evidence of a wild and busy deadly night out there. Firstly the gate had been knocked down. Secondly there was a large dead rat in a bloody puddle between the beds. Cause of death - undetermined. Could it have been post- election violence, Australian style? Have I become a sleep-walking raticide? Was this the effect of cannabilistic excess?

The garden is - despite the depredations, coming along. My tyre-tower potatoes are nearly ready for another tyre.



We went to a harvest festival and barbeque on one of the farms on Summer road today. As it was spattering with rain, the entire thing took place in the farm shed. Corrugated iron... and it rained. It was rather like Nottingham Road's annual carol service (held in the sale-hall - with real sheep and calves and any kid under five that showed up dressed as either an angel or a shepherd in with them. Last time one of the angels got her hand sucked by a calf... it was one of few bellows that was louder than the inevitable drumming of the rain on the tin roof). This too was drowned out by the rain that bucketed down. Good thing too: the farmers need the rain, and I was singing. The rain stopped and we cooked snags (see, I learn. They are called sausages elsewhere) - we talked, kids rode bikes (a unicycle yet! I WANT one) a couple of chooks looked in and we were a world away from Africa. Or Venice, that I must now return to.

Homes and other people's gardens

"Und here ve haff der mine field, and zen moat and zen ze ha-ha - ze pit vith razor sharp spikes..."

Ok perhaps I exaggurate just a trifle, but with dug in wombat proofing, wooden pallisade wallaby proofing, a metal slide rim for the possums and a final bird-net layer, there are less secure houses in Johannesburg. It was a fascinating trip around some very impressive gardens. In a nutshell (or at least Fort Knox) - you can grow almost anything on Flinders (there are soil issues, and bugs etc, but it is a temperate climate, which is not too extreme.) But there are a lot of volunteers eager to help you with redistributing the produce. It was fascinating however to see the different approaches - and levels of success in different people's gardens. I learned that soil can be over-enriched, which I hadn't known, and saw several neat ideas. The trip was also fascinating for the inveterate people-watcher like me, with a cross section of islanders who grow veggies - from the humble back garden patch to things that cost more than your average family car to set up. A frightening number of them said "Oh you're the new South Africans in John's place." I began to feel a little like the new giraffe at the zoo, only less interesting. We'd been told to bring a 'cut lunch'. I was good. I did not explain that we Africans liked to cut ours fresh, and could we have the attendees list to browse over. It was time away from the desk and writing, but worthwhile in terms of learning what would grow and what we'd have to do.

And what not to do. Heh. Local wisdom has it that you bury a dead critter (sheep, wallaby, feral pig) under each fruit tree. The vivacious owner of a large and struggling orchard/garden describing the process... "you know, legs and arms coming off and maggots spilling." Fancy some fruit from that tree?! At least we savages butcher our enemies on the spot before burying them under the corner posts of our buildings without having to drag disintegrating bits. Anyway Josh Byrne assured us this was a bad idea and anerobic fermentation would have a detrimental effect on the roots, to say nothing of the acidification of the soil from all the puking at the bouquet and charming sights.

This one however was a life lesson to me.

It was probably the best and most productive of the gardens... and a charming lady of 96 kept it... by herself.
She also teaches Scottish dancing.