Today I’m going to begin…with landscape and place…because my head is spinning, my picture gallery so full of images, my mind so crammed with the week’s activity, that I need to rest a moment, to absorb the weight of that hill, the solid form of its gentle rise…for its impact is so much greater than all the small things that make up daily life.
Big Hill is a generous borrowed landscape, a constant feature here. Glimpsed from this aspect for just a brief, serendipitous moment between bend…and straighten while collecting kindling, and from an aspect further away than my usual ‘kitchen sink’ or ‘garden’ view, its breathtaking substance calms and anchors. It held me momentarily spellbound as the last pale afternoon light caught bleached pasture; and our rusty Hayshed roof so tall in reality, appeared so well-nestled into the garden from this point on the Persimmon lawn. Nestling in, hugging the land…is how I believe the man-made ought to be.
Borrowed landscape is on my mind even more than usual, following the opportunity to spin (oh so quickly as event guests are more important!) our much lauded Australian landscape garden designer Paul Bangay around the garden mid-week (after our ‘in conversation’, much book signing and whilst our guests settled into a delicious lunch prepared by Eilish and Kat of The What if Society).
Paul is an absolute delight…it’s no wonder his clients come back for more time and again. Our conversation was wide-ranging and informal, as we touched on Paul’s childhood where his love of plants and gardening truly began; the encouragement given by his parents in his pursuits that were absolutely genuine…right through his education, mentors, early career, his love of scale, his seeking of beauty everywhere, in everything and I dare say everyone; from where he derives inspiration and his just plain down-to-real-earth sensibility.
I’ll be honest…I’d never been in a position to act as interlocutor ‘til asked late last year (by Paul’s publisher Thames & Hudson) to be just that with Paul, at an event in the Southern Highlands. I suggested they find someone more polished! But I did do it…on the strength of Paul’s thoroughly engaging book A Life in Garden Design. It’s hard to put down…a conversation in itself…and it was so lovely to welcome Paul here for a repeat (less formal!) performance this week.
At the beginning of this Substack escapade I promised you a peek into behind-the-scenes event/workshop activity (afterall, it’s what occupies so very much of my time!).
It’s rare really, that an event on this kind of a scale occurs. Mostly, workshops are relatively small…and completely immersive for everyone. It’s only when we have a ‘guest speaker’ that the scale is greater and somehow…the perceived expectation of visitors is slightly different. As a general rule, I tend not to feel the garden is ‘on show’. It was never designed to be a ‘show garden’. It’s a heartfelt expression of our interpretation of the buildings, their connection to each other, the plants that relate to them etc. etc. In a similar vein, the Dairy space itself is a workspace that goes through many different iterations. For a workshop, the fact the Dairy is a ‘working space’ seems entirely natural and it’s then that the components of whatever workshop may be taking place simply layer with mine and the space feels right. But for an ‘event’, my working garden detritus seems a mess!
Whilst temporary displays of huge stems of dried flower heads may contribute to the atmosphere of that big white space that abuts the Kitchen Garden; other forms of temporary storage are not so visually captivating!
So first, I shuffled big bundles of old sheets containing dry fennel heads and lavender from last year’s harvest that I’ve not yet processed, and all the seeds stored in a multitude of paper bags, rusty tin cans and bottles (that were utterly expected for last Saturday’s autumn morning in the kitchen garden (more below!) to the house…ensuring that it now looked like a scene of utter chaos!
Then I went about moving the furniture: the big old chesterfield sofa (from Larry’s family home in Scotland) is on castors so I can easily roll it around by myself and I can shift the sisal rug single-handed too! The old oval pine table (another from the bonnie highlands) I can twist and turn into position, so I just need help with the trestle tables outside, in the loggia. My original intention for this week was to have one very long table: four trestles placed end-to-end take up the entire length of that space but…
All week, the predictions have been for rain! I knew it even as I wrote last week’s ‘Blue Skies’ post. The ant run and the daily flight of Black Cockatoos passing overhead with their prehistoric calls have been telling me it’s on the way, for weeks!
Tables the length of the loggia would mean anyone sitting at either end of the table would get wet. So…I had to think again. In all the years I’ve been doing this, only once have we had to scramble and re-set inside, which although not impossible, does rather spoil the atmosphere, and having the tables set prior to everyone’s arrival literally sets the scene.
I decided instead on four individual trestle tables across the loggia space. Luckily Bonnie has been home this week so helped me manoeuvre them into position (I do my level best to avoid table-moving with Larry - you all know there are some jobs couples just shouldn’t do together!). I also persuaded B to cobweb the outside of the Dairy and to clean the windows…I’m well and truly in her debt!
The skeleton layout done, I can then happily get on with all the jobs at hand on my own….setting up the big space with our director’s chairs in a manner so everyone should be able to see and hear (luckily the Dairy has good acoustics, so as long as a voice has reasonable projection, we don’t need microphones…which I really hate!).
I cut fresh lengths of hessian from the bolt, then steamed out the obvious creases. I decided on a length of printed cotton from Pigotts Store (Square Flower, green) that I felt would be just the welcome I’d like to see in the Hayshed when peeps arrived…there’s something about that slightly-off acid green that’s fresh without being too pretty…and it would be a lovely foil for a vessel of elder…foliage, flowers and berries, as well as a copy of Paul’s book. That length had been folded in the cupboard for awhile but a quick steam and it too, was good to go. As an aside…I rather like having a few metres of fabric up my sleeve to use as a table covering rather than an actual tablecloth…I guess it goes with the territory. Of course it makes for more laborious washing/folding/ironing but…it comes with flexibility…and it isn’t as it one is carrying out those tasks on a daily basis!
Anyway, that portion of jobs was carried out on Monday. On Tuesday, I ran all the glasses, plates and cutlery through the dishwasher, chalked the board after talking to Eilish who had finalised her menu (this was a first…but I recognised early on with this event that I couldn’t be ‘out the front’ and ‘behind the scenes’ at the same time!) and what a luxury it was to not have my hands and head filled with all that goes into food prep, along with getting it onto the tables on the day! I set the loos…hand towels etc., raked the gravel in both buildings…and eventually got to picking up Paul’s book for a quick refresh! I know I touched last week on the silence I’ve observed in visiting cooks, chefs…indeed all creatives going about their set-up process, that I too require in preparation. Just as with any design job…I’ve always found it absolutely vital to completely immerse and focus on my client as a person alongside their house, its immediate and wider environs without interruption, it was only right to immerse in Paul’s words and life stories…in order to bring our event to fruition.
On Wednesday I was up before the sparrows! And still I knew I would be cutting it fine…it’s always a race to the guest arrival time! For some weeks, I’ve pondered from time to time what plant/flower/arrangement might complement the striking cover of Paul’s book. That cover is so bold, graphic and handsome…it’s certainly no shrinking violet! I’d need something to balance its presence.
Then one day it struck. I’d observed that the Cottonwood Hibiscus, Hibiscus tiliaceus had really got a wriggle on! Too immature a specimen to make any impact for years, now all of a sudden I could see it from a distance. Hallelujah! Except…that I really don’t want it to be quite so tall in that particular spot just below Mrs R’s garden…I’d envisaged it more as a dense shrub, and anyway had struggled to find anywhere sensible to plant it at all.
I had long admired this small tree/shrub, without ever knowing the name. They occasionally feature as street trees in Sydney and from time to time I’ve taken a photo of one as a reminder. Then one day, to my surprise…at Bunnings of all places…the foliage of half a dozen or so small plants caught my eye…which flew immediately to the label and there I had it…at last…the name! I couldn’t resist buying one of those tiny plants on the spot and nurtured it for a couple of years in its plastic pot while pondering where on earth to plant it! During those intervening years I became mildly obsessed…I loved the exquisite small, hibiscus flower that opens yellow with a red stamen and over the course of following days, colours through tones of copper and onto a rich pink (in much the same way as a Mutabilis rose) but it seems to me that once a species becomes familiar, you begin to notice it more and they’re likely to pop up everywhere. It was during the time I had it in a pot, that one day it occurred to me that there is an enormous one, that I’d have walked past time and again as a child (it would have towered over me, and its spoiled flowers littered the pavement on that regular walk I mentioned last week that I would take with my grandparents!) once again, proving that memory and plants are in lockstep.
But back to the present…those tall, spindly shoots that were reaching for the sky…now had Paul’s book written all over them! So there I was at dawn with both my saw and secateurs (I dared not do this the day before in case they didn’t take kindly to being cut and might sulk in the vase - and there were no spare bits to experiment with earlier!). It’s always very clear to me (and I’ve no doubt to everyone else!) that I am not a florist! And only florists probably…should use clear glass vessels in which to make arrangements! But the largest container I have is indeed glass and so my poor handiwork of criss-crossing stems was visible for all to see! I care not…I got the foliage as close as I could to that book and how I enjoyed seeing them together! I love too, that the Elder berries although all the way over in their vase in the Hayshed, had reciprocal tones.
It was to the Elder I turned after cutting the Hibiscus, cutting huge armfuls to bring those flowers and berries down from on high. Next, a good haul of densly aromatic Prostanthera to make bunches to hang in the loos…and at last…well..after roughing in the table settings with glass, side plates, cutlery and linen napkins…I snipped lengths of fruit-laden foliage from the Port Jackson Fig. I know I do this often, and sometimes think I oughtn’t repeat it, but that tree is so generous, its leathery foliage robust…equalling the strength of Paul’s book. And so there it was…
By now I knew I was running out of time! Straightening each knife, fork, plate and glass, folding each napkin so all was in place, one final rake of the gravel…and then…off to the shower it was in an attempt to look vaguely presentable and ready to put a tick against each name as our guests arrived for a little cup of herbal tisane from the garden before the conversation began!
From there, the day ran away, in a whirl of chatter, a flurry of hugs, good food…and not a single drop of rain!
That is, til yesterday, which dawned bright and blue, then threw occasional sun showers…not an ideal kind of drying day which I always hope the one post-event will be! As I’ve mentioned before…event days and the ones preceding them unfurl in quickstep time. The day post event, happens almost in slow motion, as somewhat depleted of that oversupply of energy that comes with adrenalin, the reverse tasks of taking apart, putting away, washing, clearing, occur in slow-step time…reflective rather than anticipatory. Gradually, as each task is completed, a line is drawn under the previous days and even months…leading all the way back to the initial seed of an idea being put into the world, the conversations, correspondence, interactions required to bring any event to life…and then, it’s time to move on.
Last Saturday’s Autumn Morning in the Kitchen Garden required not quite such a scale of preparation! What a delightful group trickled in…if not all completely invested in growing for themselves, then certainly in eating, wellbeing and with open minds to glean a better understanding of absolute seasonality. I never know what growing circumstances the peeps who are joining in might have to contend with, and this group were as diverse as any…hailing from inner Sydney to a bush block and others in between; and aged 2 to…I suspect…well, let’s say 72!
We discussed the entirety of Kitchen Gardening…from seed to seed, organics, biodynamics and soil, through crop rotation, veg family groups, care, nurture, companion planting, successional sowing, veg varieties, pest control, structures, aesthetics and design principles.
After three hours of walking and talking and looking and tasting…we ate! And still there were questions! And then a lot of seed was loaded into paper bags and taken off to all different directions…and I’ve been fielding more questions all week…how I love the sheer excitement of those new to growing! I’ll not stop encouraging peeps anytime soon!
By Sunday there was a bit to do in the garden! During Saturday’s workshop I removed the tunnel that had been protecting the brassica seedlings…they’ve grown so much they were crashing into their protective net-covered wire cage, but leaving it in place for participants to see, served to explain the point of excluding white cabbage moths from tiny seedlings…which is when those emerging caterpillars can cause such devastating damage. It’s easier to see them on big leaves and…as they have bigger areas to munch, the larger the area, the less damage! As a result of removing that protection though, it means I do have to check regularly for caterpillar activity….on the now exposed kale and broccoli, as well as their neighbouring cauliflowers (so far only the two originals are out of their cylinders and nets…the next two planted won’t be far behind, whilst I planted the last in this succession on Sunday and it will be awhile ‘til it’s big enough to fill its wire cylinder, let alone take that protective measure away. By then, we should have had the first frost, which should kill the moths and I can stop this annual fiasco for another year.
I went about my usual tomato tying…those fruit are still coming in beautifully (there was a lot of information shared at the previous day’s workshop about tomato growing!) and general tidying…removing any yellowing leaves.
I’ve recently noticed a proliferation of the dreaded red/purple oxalis in the paths of the Kitchen Garden and occasionally, in the beds themselves. There’s only one way to deal with that sinister weed and that’s to boil a kettle of water and pour its contents immediately over each spreading plant. It works instantly…it’s simply a question of boiling the kettle which is often not top of mind in the midst of gardening activity!
I planted out a lot of the seedlings I picked up at the market early on Saturday morning - not ideal before running the workshop but I will only buy veg seedlings from Neil and Carmen so I zipped quickly into Camden as they only do that market on the 4th Saturday of the month. You can check where they’ll be by clicking the ‘find us’ page on their Patio Plants website - the name doesn’t quite fit with what they do…which is to produce the healthiest veg seedlings you’ll ever find…so much so that growers buy from them on a big scale, but they kindly serve the general public too, at numerous markets around the outskirts of Sydney and you don’t have to buy a whole punnet of anything - you can choose - one broccoli seedling, one cabbage etc…as you like. Just remember to take a label and to write the name as brassicas, in particular, look very similar when they’re tiny (as do cucurbits in the summer sowing months) and it’s too easy to get home and not remember which is the cauliflower and which the broccoli!
Anyway…I continued to plant out my first row of leeks - successionally planting towards the north. I popped in the last cauliflower to complete that row. I dropped in a few lettuces and also spring onions before running out of time. I’ll plant the rest of my haul over the coming weekend.
On the topic of spring onions…as I relayed to my participants on Saturday, I do sometimes think I’m so dim but obviously…we need spring onions to add that onion flavour to our cooking during the winter /spring months with reason: now is the time to plant bulb-forming onions into the ground (the ones stored from last year are telling us so - as they begin to shoot and there’s no slowing them down once that begins). This means that proper onions are about to be ‘out of season’ and it’s going to take all winter and all spring long, for next season’s crop to grow and be ready to harvest. We usually pull them in November - so think on that for a minute. We need spring onions to get us through… that’s the real cycle of an onion. My brown ones will keep just awhile longer…but I can’t hold them back forever! Grow on then please, little spring onions!
After planting as much as I could, I raced around the entire garden…doing lots of little jobs and finally, deadheaded the roses!
I looked at the Jerusalem artichokes…and thought on whether to cut them down or not…it wouldn’t usually be a question when they’re still in this much leaf, but with Paul’s event on the week’s agenda, I did contemplate the thought! Afterall…look at them - what an ungainly sight!
At Saturday’s workshop I thought it would be fun to share the delight of digging the first rhizomes of the season with my participants. Digging for Jerusalem artichokes is like digging for gold and their eyes were out on stalks at the bounty yielded from below the earth! There were plenty to go around and there are plenty more to come, that’s for sure.
I haven’t had time to dig anymore so I’ll take pics when I do and we can talk about them then; but this is a good image for you to see, as this is what a clump of mature Jerusalem artichokes looks like…at 3 metres tall. You need to wait for them to die back before cutting them down…I believe that rather like ornamental spring bulbs, they continue to feed their rhizome as their leaves and stems dry…and I want those rhizomes to be as plump and sweet as can be. So I may have pondered their plight for a moment because of Paul’s visit…but then I erred on the side of leaving them in! That’s real life…in a real and productive garden!
As I look out the window beside me now, as I tip-tap away, those tall stems have browned and dried off in the two days past, so I’ll not hesitate to cut them down to knee height this weekend! And we can talk about eating them next week (we had our first last Saturday and oh how delicious they were!).
The garlic’s up! Exactly one week on from sowing on Anzac Day - when I went to hang yesterday’s basket of washing on the line, there it was to greet my eye! What a lovely surprise. Not each and every one is yet through the earth…hopefully those missing will soon emerge too but there are a lot of little green shoots which makes me very happy indeed!
The two beds designated for potatoes over the last season are, of course, looking dire. With all or most of the foliage withered, they do not make for an attractive sight and yet, I’ve not had time to do more than dig what we need to eat. One of the long beds is now smothered in pumpkin vine, so I’ll leave it alone ‘til those fruits are ready to pick, but the other…I could stand to see no longer and yesterday, as I knew I wouldn’t have time, and substantial rain is predicted for this weekend, I asked Thalia to dig out whatever was left in the ground, because potatoes for eating aside, I have a plan to implement!
Potatoes are best stored unbrushed / unwashed…but not damp. So…here they are on a length of old hessian, the earth clinging to them but drying off in the last dappled sunlight, protected from overnight dew and any possible rain. I’ll bring them in tomorrow to store in a hessian bag in the dark.
Fig season is all but officially at an end. I picked no less than 73 (can you believe it?) from this one tree, delighting in the figgy aroma while treading on those crumpled leaves underfoot. The fruit are light in weight for their size and I’ll cook them, halved, adding nothing at all…not even a drop of water. For the first few minutes I’ll shake the lidded saucepan to be sure none are getting stuck to the bottom, but very quickly they’ll yield any juice they have and I can let them simmer gently. The amount of time it will take for them to collapse to the point I like to eat them warmed through and with a dollop of yoghurt, will depend on how many I cook at a time. I’ll just do it while I’m cooking dinner, so I can keep a close eye on their progress…but probably 10 to 15 minutes. And once we’ve eaten this batch, that will be the end of figs for another season.
Elsewhere the trees are turning, the citrus are ripening…the cool season bounty is increasing. I mentioned at the beginning that I was collecting kindling. In fact, we’re yet to have a fire…we really haven’t needed one - not quite. But all the ant and black cockatoo activity (not to mention the ABC weather man’s constant rain icons!) had me in squirrel mentality earlier in the week - it’s something innate that reaches fever pitch, and although the sky was blue, I just had to go and pick up sticks.
I set a fire in the Dairy just in case our event day proved as grey and gloomy as the weather man predicted - flickering flames add such an ambience…but on the day I couldn’t decide whether to take a match to the paper or instead to open all the doors to the loggia! I didn’t have much time to dwell and flung the doors wide open. As it turned out, it was the right choice! Yesterday I set a fire in the kitchen, thinking it would be our first…but then I ironed those napkins direct from the line and while they were still slightly damp - far and away the best moment to iron linen…and that task warmed me through! Still no fire…but as I write now, the grey and drizzle have set in, there’s no question…tonight will be our first fire of the season! And kindling collection will be part of my daily routine. For the week ahead though, we have plenty.
I think a rare, wet and cosy weekend lies ahead! Event free here, I do intend to attend one instead and will report back when the time is right….its topic and the wonderful, peeps involved are fostering something very special. I’ve been tiptoeing around a possible collaboration for a very, very long time but can never quite see what form might bring it to fruition. Some ideas…are literally years in the planning.
So on that note I’ll leave you and wish you well ‘til the next post, save for this still-in-progress list below! One of our attendees this week asked if I could please write a comprehensive and specific weekly garden list for her to follow…she hasn’t yet caught up with this platform, so whilst I’m not about to turn into Gardening Australia…let’s call mine below a work in progress!
Have a wonderful weekend everyone and if you’re in this neck of the woods, keep toasty warm and dry! Mickey x
Productive notes:
Eating from the garden:
Fig, pomegranate (amazing daily juice!), persimmon (the very last 3 are still taking their time to ripen on the bench), rhubarb; tomato, aubergine, zucchini, potatoes (forgot to include them in the previous lists but have been eating since late November!), leaves of all kinds - spinach, lettuce, radicchio; cima di rapa and Jerusalem artichokes are newly joining in; fennel fronds, parsley, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives. The very last new shoot leaves of lovage and last of the basil - I whizzed up a small jar of basil pistou but the basil is on its last legs. Picked one new lemon…the oranges are not yet ripe either. Still eating onions and garlic from last season.
Seed saving: Beans…Speckled Cranberry, Purple King, Rattlesnake.
Sowing: Peas, broad beans, beetroot, parsnip, cima di rapa, coriander, chervil, dill, rocket; mustard leaves red elk and giant red. (I’ve almost completed sowing - most should be done in the next week). I don’t need to but you could sow parsley too.
Planting: globe artichokes, leeks, kale, broccoli, cauliflower, kohl rabi, fennel, radicchio, lettuce and…onions!
Ornamental notes:
Picking for the house: roses, dahlias (tail end)
Pruning and other: the last of our hedges were trimmed last weekend ahead of winter, olive trees still need some more work thinning; teucrium, salt bush and oleander need keeping in check by tip-pruning to keep their shape, as do the port wine magnolia and bay trees. With the fruit set and ripening on citrus trees, it’s a good opportunity to thin out excess growth and remove any dead, twiggy bits - ours need a good de-clutter. Although still fruiting, I have trimming the tall summer growth of the pomegranate hedge on Thalia’s list for next week. Continue to deadhead roses and dahlias - yes…leave the dahlias ‘til their foliage dies back before lifting them - I know it’s ugly! Keep on top of weeds. The lawns and edges are slowing down now (Larry is thrilled!) but there are still paddocks to slash. It’s not yet time for us really to prune, so the ornamental garden isn’t so taxing…just now anyway!
Sounds like you're going gangbusters Sally! If you were close by I'd happily share Jerusalem artichokes with you...we have a bounty and they'll be finding their way out and about and around! :))
As I mentioned last week I would be a couple of days ahead of you with the garlic, and like you ours have starting sprouting, just a few, but hopefully many more to come. Our tomatoes are finished and all the green ones are starting to ripen out on the table in the al fresco area, if I can find some Nicola seed potatoes I think I might give them a go this year. My mother used to grow Jerusalem Artichokes, I love them, but have never grown them myself so have to wait until I find them in the Supermarket. Your hint re the purple oxalis is good, but not so when it is in the pots. I can’t be,I’ve how much it can spread, there must be minute particles in the air that drop on the ground and in the garden as they just appear from nowhere. Our citrus has produced massively this year, two buckets of limes so have been giving them away to all the neighbours, family and friends, at least with picking all those limes I was able to give the tree a good cut back and get rid of all the Gaul wasp I found. I love saving seeds, but most of ours off from herbs like Parsley, dill and coriander. The mint and thyme are happy to sow their own seeds which I need to keep a watch on, particularly the mint. Our dahlias are about a week away from being finished also, and once again I will be sharing tubers, particularly the Cafe au Lait which is everyone’s favourite. Thank you once again for a great relaxing read, and what a coincidence that you talked about Paul Bangay when only last week I said that was what our garden was originally based on.