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izmeinaIt was exactly 17 years ago that a certain serpent came into legal possession of the location known as the Lair.
Friday 3rd April 1998 was a good Friday for Izzie but Easter was actually a week later. It turned out to be a very wise decision despite all the chaos and craziness at the time. A year or so later the mob on the hill in Canberra made some sneaky goblin friendly reforms concerning capital gains which triggered a crazy housing bubble. There’s been the odd pop here and there but even the gloom and doom of 2008 did not knock much stuffing out of the over inflated market.
The days of a burger flipper or pot scrubber buying a roof over her head without too much drama are now long gone. The Great Australian Dream of owning one’s own home has become pretty much unattainable for most folks under forty unless they are prepared to sign up for 30 years of debt slavery.
After a bit of slinking and soul searching along with the gratitude for such good fortune, came to the inescapable conclusion that those 17 years lurking in the Lair don’t have much to show for them. It was intention as much as accident that the well manicured green lawns are all gone along with the rose bushes. I did plant some limes, a wattle that has grown wildly and a fat happy bright cheerful banksia tree along with some woolly bush and fig trees that are a veritable haven for feathered friends. But all those grand plans of a forest of fruit and nut trees have not quite come to fruition. Worst of all was losing the macadamia that I had planted in 1999 and waited ten years before finally getting a crop of nuts. A heat wave three years later proved to be too much for it.
That was a criminal act of negligence to get so distracted by a certain old toad that I ignored the creatures that really mattered.
So I have vowed that what I sow in the next six months will set the tone for the harvest for the next seventeen years,
Dusted off that old and very precious permaculture design book last week and set about plotting and planning. A recent free workshop from the Great Gardens mob on the topic of edible landscaping has also provided much needed motivation.
Since April 2007 I began a garden diary noting the times and dates of seeds, seedlings, trees, shrubs or whatever planted. The back of the book was reserved for the list of things purchased such as plants, fertilisers, manures, mulch or whatever.
One sad fact I learned from this history is that this wannabee emerald serpent has a rather brown forked tongue. There’s been far too many funerals for an assortment of pretty weeds. Was able to get away with such wasteful and decadent indulgences during the days of house elf slavery but now funds must be conserved and used judiciously.
So now the rules include sourcing seeds from bulk bins at ethnic stores and growing my own fertilisers. Chickpeas, lupins and an assortment of other beans kill two birds with the one stone.
So the one single thing that would greatly improve the plants chances to thrive in the Lair, some means of watering the weeds other than standing around at the end of a hose is simply not an option.
Many moons ago I did inquire about the cost of having drip irrigation installed only to discover that just a consultation with maps and stuff would set me back some 400 silver sickles.
So the alternative is to think outside the square and find ways to improve the sand so that it retains every precious drop of water. Mulch and clay kitty litter are a start. Sweet potato leaves also work wonders keeping the worst of the sun off the soil. The hotter it gets, the more they thrive. They run about like rampaging ivy.
So with this in mind, I have now resorted to planting beans of all sorts in just about every bare patch of soil. A good overnight soak is sufficient to get them going for a good three days. They grow fast and lush and have the added advantage of fixing nitrogen in the soil with no need for nasty bags or cans. There’s even flowers for the bees.
So this new improved soil should provide a hospitable environment for a forest of fruit trees.
Here’s hoping that if I am still slinking about some seventeen years from now that there’ll be much more progress to show than for the last lot.
This year I have created some new rituals and routines that should tilt the odds ever so slightly in the serpent’s favour.
Friday 3rd April 1998 was a good Friday for Izzie but Easter was actually a week later. It turned out to be a very wise decision despite all the chaos and craziness at the time. A year or so later the mob on the hill in Canberra made some sneaky goblin friendly reforms concerning capital gains which triggered a crazy housing bubble. There’s been the odd pop here and there but even the gloom and doom of 2008 did not knock much stuffing out of the over inflated market.
The days of a burger flipper or pot scrubber buying a roof over her head without too much drama are now long gone. The Great Australian Dream of owning one’s own home has become pretty much unattainable for most folks under forty unless they are prepared to sign up for 30 years of debt slavery.
After a bit of slinking and soul searching along with the gratitude for such good fortune, came to the inescapable conclusion that those 17 years lurking in the Lair don’t have much to show for them. It was intention as much as accident that the well manicured green lawns are all gone along with the rose bushes. I did plant some limes, a wattle that has grown wildly and a fat happy bright cheerful banksia tree along with some woolly bush and fig trees that are a veritable haven for feathered friends. But all those grand plans of a forest of fruit and nut trees have not quite come to fruition. Worst of all was losing the macadamia that I had planted in 1999 and waited ten years before finally getting a crop of nuts. A heat wave three years later proved to be too much for it.
That was a criminal act of negligence to get so distracted by a certain old toad that I ignored the creatures that really mattered.
So I have vowed that what I sow in the next six months will set the tone for the harvest for the next seventeen years,
Dusted off that old and very precious permaculture design book last week and set about plotting and planning. A recent free workshop from the Great Gardens mob on the topic of edible landscaping has also provided much needed motivation.
Since April 2007 I began a garden diary noting the times and dates of seeds, seedlings, trees, shrubs or whatever planted. The back of the book was reserved for the list of things purchased such as plants, fertilisers, manures, mulch or whatever.
One sad fact I learned from this history is that this wannabee emerald serpent has a rather brown forked tongue. There’s been far too many funerals for an assortment of pretty weeds. Was able to get away with such wasteful and decadent indulgences during the days of house elf slavery but now funds must be conserved and used judiciously.
So now the rules include sourcing seeds from bulk bins at ethnic stores and growing my own fertilisers. Chickpeas, lupins and an assortment of other beans kill two birds with the one stone.
So the one single thing that would greatly improve the plants chances to thrive in the Lair, some means of watering the weeds other than standing around at the end of a hose is simply not an option.
Many moons ago I did inquire about the cost of having drip irrigation installed only to discover that just a consultation with maps and stuff would set me back some 400 silver sickles.
So the alternative is to think outside the square and find ways to improve the sand so that it retains every precious drop of water. Mulch and clay kitty litter are a start. Sweet potato leaves also work wonders keeping the worst of the sun off the soil. The hotter it gets, the more they thrive. They run about like rampaging ivy.
So with this in mind, I have now resorted to planting beans of all sorts in just about every bare patch of soil. A good overnight soak is sufficient to get them going for a good three days. They grow fast and lush and have the added advantage of fixing nitrogen in the soil with no need for nasty bags or cans. There’s even flowers for the bees.
So this new improved soil should provide a hospitable environment for a forest of fruit trees.
Here’s hoping that if I am still slinking about some seventeen years from now that there’ll be much more progress to show than for the last lot.
This year I have created some new rituals and routines that should tilt the odds ever so slightly in the serpent’s favour.
