A beacon of colour...
It’s not been much of a week for photographs…but the rain that’s befallen us has been wonderful, so you’ll not hear me complain about the (no doubt) temporary bleak skies…the unexpectedly drenched washing on the line, the sodden shoes on a trip to Sydney, or anything else for that matter! Every drop that falls is welcome and though there have been some spectacular downpours, we’d need a week of steady rain to fill the dams. They’re OK - if you were visiting you wouldn’t notice they’re down…but we know they’re not at optimum capacity. The land though, feels refreshed; the earth is hydrated and that…is what’s important as we head into what for us, can be the dry months of the year.
Oh but how the Persimmon leaves glow like a beacon from multiple directions! Even on the most dull of days, or mid-atmospheric downpour…it reverberates with colour, catching your attention unexpectedly - through a window…or open door. A beacon of beauty…
I’ve long thought the Persimmon trees the most beautiful in the garden. There are two - and they precede our tenure. I’ve no idea how old they are and wrote at length about them about them in a post this time last year. Sadly this season, there are no fruit - not even one. It happens - they actually seem to prefer the drought years, and though they did set some tiny fruit in the spring, they all fell to the ground - either by cause of birds or storms - they were simply not strong enough to see the season through. Which is such a shame because I really don’t enjoy eating the non-astringent variety you see in the shops that are hard, like an apple…as opposed to the fruit these old fashioned astringent varieties produce, that ripen slowly on the tree, to a jelly-like consistency. So…I’ll just have to cross my fingers for next year and keep my tastebuds in anticipation!
The Persimmon leaf colours though, are reflected in the ageing Agave spire, just across the courtyard. Remember I mentioned that hefty stem takes on the colours of a dawning autumn sky? Those colours are deepening now, to more of a rich sunset, as the whole of the plant continues on its slow journey towards its ultimate demise. It sure goes down in a blaze of glory.
Those once verdant hands of budding green flowers that attracted a flurry of chattering, nectar-seeking Rosellas in high summer, are dry to almost a crisp…of the most delicious rich, chocolate brown; and the entire spike continues to retain its rakish angle, casting shadows as the sun (when it does peek through the clouds) travels on its daily round.
At this time of year, the state of withering is likely to be observed at every turn. Despite the Jerusalem artichokes still holding some green leaves (just a week ago…they’re fully withered now) I thought I’d go for a rootle around the base of a stem or two, to see how they might be travelling. And what did I find?
Tastebud gold! Jerusalem artichokes are just the thing to propel the diet from one season to the next! Over the years I’ve come to realise several things about these tubers that grow so prolifically and with such ease. Yes…they do get very tall and are rather messy, so if you decide to grow them, find a suitable spot - preferably with some protection from the wind, because at three metres when mature, they are susceptible to snapping in a gusty breeze. They do take up space for a very long period of time - I re-sow each year in August and pretty much leave them in the ground until digging the last before re-sowing. They are a great soil improver…so I truly encourage you to grow a crop even for that purpose alone - you will be startled with the results (I’d say they’re even better in this respect than growing a crop of potatoes for the purpose).
From an eating perspective I’ve also come to realise the solution to negating the gut intolerance aspect of their reputation (they’re not nicknamed ‘fartichoke’ for nothing!) is to limit their intake to two whole tubers per person. So I just don’t cook more - because if I do…we’ll eat them…as they are completely addictive! They are also extremely good for you, and I am so excited to welcome them back into our diet for the months ahead. I expect to dish out a lot over the coming months…so if you’re heading this way, I’d be delighted to dig some up for you…and come late July, I’ll also be happy to share tubers if you’d like to have a go at growing them yourself. Here’s a link to how I love best to cook them…from last year’s post!
Guess what?
The garlic I sowed last week is up! That surely must be a record….four days to breach the soil? And one week on…sturdy shoots have developed! There are a few missing, and I had to pop a net over them as freshly worked, unprotected earth is likely to attract birds to scratch around, but another week or so and I’ll take it off, to give those burgeoning tips full access to the sunlight they need to grow.
Jerusalem artichokes aside, the delight of my week has been having both girls at home for a few days…at the same time. They chose to spend some of that time happily perched in the branches of the Port Jackson Fig. Apparently the view is tremendous - and one can take a different view on life from high up in a tree…(as long as they don’t start reading the book I’m currently dipping in and out of, which makes passing reference to Byzantine ‘stylites’ who chose to live their days at the top of pillars and posts…I think I’ll keep that news to myself for now!). I must be getting old…they suggested next time we’re all together, they get a ladder into position for me so I can join them! Now where is that laughing emoji when you need it?
I’m sorry if today’s post carries an air of being rushed; but this evening I’m off on a very brief trip and I must pack my bag. My Mum has had a rough trot these last weeks and gone into respite care…and it looks as if the time we’ve long expected to come…has arrived. That she is in England rather than here is a long story…and one I’ll set aside for now.
In a way, my getting on a plane is a prompt too…for where these weekly missives go from here…a prompt because…it was the last time I was on a plane that I wrote a post for ‘paid subscribers’ and:
I’m aware those who have upgraded to ‘paid’ have not been getting anything more for their generous contribution than those who have not. And so…in the coming weeks I’ll aim to return to those ‘gallivanting’ posts I began with just one (for paid subscribers) last year. I’m completely open to hearing from you…as to where you would like to see these posts go in the future…but I have a funny feeling those who have upgraded to ‘paid’ deserve something a little deeper or more. We’ll see how we go! That said, I don’t want those of you following along for regular gardening advice or general amusement disappearing! I’ll figure it out…perhaps a week away will give me some clear perspective. (Though it will be clouded too, with a million things of greater personal priority).
I’ll complete the productive notes for you below as always…but please forgive me if I miss next week’s post which may be the case. I’m in for a bit of a rollercoaster and next Friday will see me on a return flight - with one foot in a past chapter and one in the next (though I fully expect my Mum to carry on for some time to come).
Sending you all warmest wishes for the week ahead,
Mickey x
ps a little housekeeping for paid subscribers: it has been brought to my attention this week that a ‘paid subscriber’ was charged by Substack when her subscription ‘rolled over’ from last year without her realisation. My understanding is that if you have subscribed, you will be advised by a prompt email (or however you’ve chosen to be prompted) that your subscription is coming up for renewal. I have no control over the subscription process - it’s in the hands of the Substack platform. I’m simply advised if someone has subscribed (or unsubscribed!) and continue to hope there are more of the aforementioned than the latter! So…whether you’re on an annual or monthly subscription…please check those prompts…and know that I am ever so grateful for your support. More from me…is coming your way very soon.
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Onions, garlic, aubergines, zucchinis (trombonchino), tomatoes, coloured chard and spinach; lettuce, rocket (just a few good leaves…I’m so glad the newly sown is sprouting but after a shower of rain, the old are inclined to shoot fine new leaves!), red elk mustard. Rhubarb. Basil (going) lovage, mint, rosemary, thyme, chives. Calendula and nasturtium petals, fennel fronds and tentatively picking a parsnip here and there…they’re beauties, but I don’t feel we’ve reached parsnip-eating territory quite yet…or perhaps it’s just I’d rather they grow on just a wee bit more so they’re larger for the effort put in so far! Introducing a kale leaf or two…although we’re some way yet off a frost for which I ought to wait! Jerusalem artichokes!!!!
Going / gone: zucchini, basil
Seed saving: parsnip (I still have some tall stems in seed mode), tomato, sunflower
Sowing: peas, broad beans, cima di rapa, carrot, beetroot, parsnip, coriander, parsley, poppy, sweet peas
Planting: brassicas (kale, cavolo nero, cabbage, broccoli, kohl rabi, cauliflower), lettuce, radicchio, fennel (bulbing), bok choy and leeks. I made a good planting effort last weekend - continuing the successional planting and sowing of the last weeks of crop rotation and whilst I’ll trickle in a few more seeds and seedlings in the coming weeks, I know it’s those in the ground already, that have the greater chance of growing to peak fruition. The white cabbage moth is prolific - I’m squishing tiny green caterpillars morning and night!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: tansy, zinnias and the very last stem of white flowering ginger - bliss!
Perfumes and aromas: it’s all gone a bit dull this week, and yet…we had a bonfire last weekend and the smell of smoke in the air with the increasing chill was so wonderfully atmospheric. (We also lit the first fire in the kitchen this week!). For some reason, at the kitchen garden steps to the bottom of the path that leads to the field, there’s a whole block of air that smells like Sibyl’s velveteen fur! Does she hide in the fennel there to pick up its scent? But she doesn’t smell like fennel! I just could not put my finger on the link…but each time I walked through that spot, without anticipating it, my brain thought pusscat! It’s a lovely warm, fuzzy smell…almost like pounding herbs and spices in a mortar!
Pruning and other: with so much rain and the girls home, I was a bit slack other than planting out and tweaking in the kitchen garden. But one ghastly job that I’m afraid I have tasked Thalia with, is cutting back the river of Cliveas under the Peppercorn trees along the house drive…as we seem to have pockets of the gregarious Lily caterpillar doing enormous damage to those plants. It’s a task that will keep her busy for the days I’m away the job is of such a scale, but then tending that very wide band of Cliveas is something that has not been done in over thirty years…they need an overhaul and the wretched caterpillar I suppose, is the catalyst for a long overdue job.
Isn't paying for herbs the worst Sally? I'm hoping my coriander will have germinated by the time I return! Thank you...it's a bit chilly over here! Mx
Reading your gone list I’m hoping when we return from Queensland in 10 days we might still have some basil and tarragon, fingers crossed, I hate having to pay for it. Best wishes for your mum, safe travels. 🤗