In the winter pink...
Something that strikes me about these regular Friday musings, is the opportunity these posts afford to capture fleeting thoughts and moments of beauty. Were I from another age and living in a situation of happy circumstance…perhaps I might have been a woman of journals (though I’d certainly never have been one of novels, or letters of great weight or import!). As it is, there’s been little time for such dwelling or regular putting of pen to paper during the course of my life - most of it lived in a great rush…at the behest of expectation and deadline. Although those fleeting thoughts have always been there, they’ve not been committed (for the most part) to paper, ‘til now. And although I still question the necessity of sharing them, writing here does force some of them at least, to be documented! As many (well..most of you!) have been here since I wrote the first post, I gather such musings (aside from the practical aspects of the posts) must resonate with you too. Some newcomers disengage as fast as they arrive (hardly a surprise!)…while I continue to be astonished when the odd ‘new paid subscriber’ notification arrives on my desktop. Thank you!! Just seeing those messages acknowledges I’m not completely whistling in the wind, talking to myself…which would truly be a waste of good time!
Had I no reason to write to you, the fleeting sequence that tickled me pink earlier in the week for mere seconds, would have quite simply vanished into the ether, like so many before it. But here, for you to hopefully experience that same intrinsic and momentary delight, I’ll set the manner in which it unexpectedly unfurled:
First, I donned my jacket and set off to the kitchen garden for my afternoon pick, in a bid to beat the chill before the sun dipped too low. I had my eye on a small cauliflower and carried a sharp knife with which to cut the head off its thick stem, then snipped a bunch of thyme and…in passing the experimental patch of Rye on my way to close the gate in the hedge that leads to the Field, remembered I’d not weeded the few potato stems I’d meant to at the weekend - they looked messy and were annoying to my eye. So I took a moment to put down my basket, bend and pull…and with the two stems came a handful of pink-blotched King Edward potatoes. What a lovely surprise…there would be potatoes on our plate that night too!
I then walked back to the house, dropped my basket on the kitchen verandah and set off to gather kindling - you all know by now that I do this each fine winter’s day, so as not to dip into the basket of already dry, collected material, for fear of running it down should we get a series of wet days and have nothing with which to set a fire. I returned to the kitchen with my bundle of sticks and twigs (the more variety in size and thickness, the better for beginning a successful fire I think), then brought in the logs - which always takes a few round trips from the stack on the verandah - a couple of small for beginning the fire, a medium for when it gets going and one or two large…are likely to be enough to get us through the evening. Before setting the fire though, I took my basket of veg to the kitchen sink, just as I do each evening, and emptied the contents onto the bench to its right. And what did I see? A pink sunset sky above, drawn down through the view by the lone pink rose, completing its tinted trajectory to the bench where my handful of pink-washed potatoes absorbed the highlight of a serendipitous visual connection.
Then I returned to the firebox, to scrunch sheets of newspaper before placing my kindling and logs, and as I did, looked out through the verandah doors to be met with a quite fabulous sky of puffball clouds coloured with a glorious King Edward tinge! In every direction…winter’s sparse but pink delight was spilling all around.
Next morning…the last winter bloom of the David Austin rose ‘Chaucer’ had dropped its myrrh-perfumed petals in bundles of beauty onto the bench in front of the window, capturing the early morning light. And there they remain…I haven’t yet had the heart to move them!
All of which brings me to two things…first…the importance of a kitchen window sill, or deep bench behind a sink (at the very least). As best I can, I always contrive to place a kitchen sink with a window behind, so the cook (and washer-upper!) has a view and good light. It isn’t always the case that a kitchen design can accommodate a deep sill or equivalent (and more rare an architect will think of it as a thing of significance), but it’s something I always look for and try to achieve, when presented with a plan for a client - especially if like me, they appreciate the joy of a simple, ever-changing, kitchen windowsill display. It may sound a small thing, but therein lies the possibility for a moment of uncomplicated joy…the kind I reckon is worthy of compromise with some other kitchen feature (says she with her design hat on!). Kitchen window sills in my opinion are a feature worth fighting for (and I have often been sent into battle to achieve their outcome…with husbands and builders and architects alike!).
The second thing refers back to journalling (which probably should have been the first thing but I got distracted with pink skies and potatoes!). Earlier in the week when I did a batch of ironing (plentiful sheets from last week’s visitors!) I thought to listen to a podcast, and chanced upon Judy Stewart’s Unpaused episode with Ruth Ribeaucourt: A Creative Collaboration with Antoinette Poisson; which kept me appropriately entertained with talk of Indiennes…those enticingly colourful, block-printed cottons that first made their way to Europe in the early C17th from India; (and were soon copied due to their excessive popularity). Les Indiennes were, in no small part, responsible for my own embarkation into the world of decorating…to this day I find them the most enchanting of textiles, and designs on paper, but unlike Ruth, I have only a handful of (modern) pieces!
I now realise I’m a long way behind on listening to episodes from that podcast series, but quickly that episode seemed cut short and flicked of its own accord into another podcast entirely. Truthfully, I don’t listen to podcasts often - I’m more inclined to listen to ABC Radio National - especially if I’m driving and can’t be fiddling with the phone or searching. And anyway, I like to be surprised by what comes up, rather than always selecting the kinds of topics I wish to hear, which are likely to only underpin my own thoughts, beliefs and interests. But I’d completely forgotten that at some point I’d added the podcast India Hicks & Lady P to my library and as a result have played only a handful of episodes of that series too (nor have I bought the recently published visual biography of Lady Pamela’s life story which is, of course, fascinating). But the reason I raise it here is that part of that podcast interview talked about Lady P’s constant keeping of a journal throughout her life, something that for many of us went out the window long ago. I know a lot of younger women who continue the practice today, in some form or other, and applaud them for doing so. When I was young, I did keep a diary and I think it’s encouraged for many reasons today, and especially for the purpose of mental health. But my goodness that particular podcast episode contains gems from another era, of stoicism in the face of adversity: Lady Pamela’s Life Lessons…is worth a listen, where she speaks of duty, service, endurance and resilience, alongside loyalty, family, manners, kindness, faith and respect; and a sense of curiosity, fun, humour and adventure. Her comment on introspection - ‘being aware of oneself but not self-occupied’ is one not bandied around so much these days days; a nugget of advice once dolloped out generously and which I think, may not go astray in today’s oftentimes self-obsessed world. But perhaps the best quote of all, apparently Lady P’s favourite, was penned long ago by Walt Whitman: “Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you.” Now there’s a keeper and…one to pass on too!
These are all traits, values, principles and attributes that I admire and given time, could happily add to the list. I think their value was delivered differently once upon a time…messaging that rolled easily off the tongues of earlier generations. Hopefully, they’re ones we can continue to abide by and take inspiration from today, as we pick our way through the precarious time our world is facing. Sensible…can be the words of old birds! There was another that resonated (but I was ironing…not taking notes!) that went something along the lines of “all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing”. You’ll have heard it before I’m sure.
It looks like I have a lot of podcast listening to catch up on…but those episodes will just have to keep…as there’s real work to do and I cannot listen and do (with most things I have to do!) at the same time!
The first pea! I suggested a couple of weeks ago that Golden Pod may be the first across the line this year…and so it is! Too small yet to eat - I predict it will make for optimum crunch and taste potential on Sunday! Do you remember it was only last year I discovered these particular ones are best eaten as a ‘mangetout’ variety? Pod and all, rather than waiting for the inner peas to swell.
And now its pinky-purple flowers are proliferating, there should soon be a bounty of peas for our plates! I’m still anxious about having the nets off, but the growth of foliage and flower stems is too prolific now to keep them on, and I was doing more damage to the fragile tendrils by their daily removal and replacement, so now just have to cross my fingers and say a prayer that the birds have gone elsewhere…for now.
The kitchen garden poppies are making their annual return, though they sure had a difficult time remaining upright in the gale force winds earlier in the week.
The broad beans are surging through the mid-rung of their enclosure, which held them securely in position through the horrendous winds. I’m contemplating this year, whether to pinch their stems early to encourage basal growth. I usually wait ‘til they reach through the top, third rung and then do it. Perhaps I’m being impatient to taste those tempting tips! Well…we’ll see. I’ll give them another week anyway at least, to make sure they’re well and truly caught between the two levels, but how exciting!
Remember last week I mentioned there were signs of germination post solstice? The last of the pea-sowings down the back, as well as the sweet-peas in their new trial wigwam formation near the house, are all showing signs of life. And as far as the sweet peas go, well phew. This is the latest I’ve ever left the sowing of them, and I was beginning to worry! Hopefully they’ll speed along now and catch up to where they might have been had I sown on time, but I think it a worthwhile experiment, as over the years I’ve noticed that if one follows the old rule of sowing on St Patrick’s Day, they’re inclined to get ahead, then languish for a time, so I’m keen to see how this trial eventuates.
Although I suggested last week in the ‘productive notes’ (below) that the time for seed sowing has passed…I just couldn’t resist the opportunity at the weekend, especially with rain predicted…to go slightly bonkers! For the seed bank was slightly out of control…
I found the perfect strip for a band of rocket seed and flung it - stems, dried pods and all (as I’m inclined to do with wild sowing) into a hurriedly exposed swathe. Next, I took all the remains of parsnip, red elk mustard, perpetual spinach and coloured chard seed and tossed it into the spare (supposed) compost bay that I hijacked long ago for other purposes! I’m pretty much assured of seed collection for each of these varieties (that were purposely sown earlier) in the months ahead, as those plants are all growing on well, and at this time of year, I do like to clear the storage decks. I even tossed the leftover pea pods into a wide band, in hope of a flush of pea-shoots, that I fancy might make for good sprinter eating down the track.
Then there’s the tall bunch of dried coriander stems I collected last year, that I move every so often from place to place…I leave it a week or two then move it on, in the hope some seeds will drop into the soil below and yield a successional harvest of pungent leaves.
So far this season so good…although so far the growth is not rampant enough for picking…at least in quantity (sometimes I can’t resist picking half a dozen tiny leaves to add as a flourish but in doing so I’m diminishing the strength of these tiny young seedlings). But coriander time is coming…
And sporadic winter roses in some cases…give way to glorious rose hips. Somehow I’ve never got around to making rosehip jelly. Maybe if time allows, I might do a full rosebush inspection this weekend and see if I can find enough hips to give a batch a whirl. Doesn’t this plump one, on Frau Dagmar Hastrup look like a glorious jewel in the sunshine?
I hope this week’s weather didn’t adversely affect you. Gosh it was wild and ugly. We lost power and ended Tuesday evening with candlelight. Whenever that does occur, I do wonder why I don’t resort to candlelight more often - its gentle flickering is so pretty in the bathroom (there was just enough water in the spout to make cleaning one’s teeth possible before it ran out, or I may have been thinking otherwise!) and the bedroom (although it makes reading impossible!) has a far more enlivened atmosphere when candle-lit. The warmth that emanates from the glow of a candle or two is inclined to even take the chill off the air…making for an altogether more agreeable winter’s night leap into bed!
Sending warm wishes for the week ahead.
Mickey x
Productive garden notes:
Eating from the garden:
Tomatoes (yes…still!), coloured chard, spinach, kale - cavolo nero; lettuce, rocket, red elk mustard leaves, cima di rapa, kohl rabi, parsnip, Jerusalem artichoke, fennel, celery, celeriac, pumpkin, carrot, beetroot. Lemons, oranges (Navel), mandarins. Rhubarb. Lovage, mint, chives, rosemary, thyme. Calendula, nasturtium and borage petals. Fennel fronds and the first leaves of coriander
Going / gone: tomatoes, lovage, chives
Seed saving: tomato
Sowing: I did sow another round of Australian yellow leaf lettuce as well as planting the first round sown into punnets into the ground. You could still try for a sowing of rocket, red elk mustard, cima, parsley, parsnip, carrot and beetroot. I sowed a few patches of chervil and dill - I find both notoriously temperamental! I also sowed a swathe of parsley - I don’t know why its misbehaving this year - its usually prolific
Planting: Australian yellow leaf lettuce (why does it have such a silly, cumbersome name?) But I do love it for winter growing and eating and have been saving the seed for years and years…maybe someone has renamed it now!
Ornamental garden notes:
Picking for the house: a rose here and there…a tansy stem perhaps and furry stems of lavender dentata (French lavender), another few jonquil stems for the kitchen windowsill and I think I may go and pick a few stems of apple-scented pelargonium before the sun dips. Ooooh…the first solandra trumpet arrived this week!
Perfumes and aromas: the perfume of ripe oranges is adrift in the kitchen garden…and wow, Osmanthus fragrans…I was just on my kindling round where that intoxicating fragrance reached out halfway to the house to reach me!
Pruning and other: I decided to focus on the kitchen garden at the weekend…filling in those odd spaces with seed but also sowed some (of our own) agapanthus seed into punnets which is something I’ve been meaning to do for months! After all these years, there’s still a gap at the house end of the agapanthus bed and they just will not seem to self-sow there! With Thalia on Monday, I took to the Burmese honeysuckle that had formed another enormous mound over the laundry roof and we tackled a few extremely long stems of the Solandra too, in a bid to tidy Mrs R’s. The espaliered pears on the Barn, the cotoneaster balls there too and the one at the fence panel near the pool have all had a prune and shape. There was a veritable mountain of leaves from the White Cedar at the Dairy that had dropped into the lavender, so Thalia did a big rake and tidy - there are no more left now to fall! Into the compost they went. And…she’s just finished shovelling out a ute load of mulch onto the Cliveas on the drive - no longer are their roots exposed after that enormous clean up last month and there are good signs of new emerging leaves - phew.
I just love how you write Mickey - it feels as if you’re taking me with you around your house and garden as you do your rounds, and I’m hanging on every word😆😍
Yes!Yes! Window sills, especially in the kitchen are worth fighting for to display all sorts of beautiful objects and for their utility. I love the pink theme through your garden and sky and look for themes in my own garden now. thank you for all your ideas.