Brer Jools and the Veggie Patch

When I was a kid, in the middle of last century, I lived on a farm with my two brothers. I am in the middle. I aged from eight to thirteen on that farm. Sorry, Jesuits, your maxim zeroed out with me. It was the second seven years that were crucial to my formation. And during that seven years, I had a vegetable patch. Correction, we all had a vegetable patch. It was the corner of the house paddock closest to the dam. Between the dam and the well. It was fenced. Yes it was fenced - a real fence and a virtual fence. The real fence outlined Mum's 'holding' and the virtual fence our three individual holdings. A bit like running yer elbow down the school desk and glaring if her shirt sleeve dared so much as to flap over the boundary!

So, the boys and I grew veggies. Mum grew flowers around the house, but they were weedy things. And had no purpose. And there was no competition. Who gave a damn if my petunia was bigger than Barry's pansy! So, veggies it was. We had paths between the beds. We had gullies around the beds. This was before the era of the raised bed. Oh, golly gosh yes. We dug DOWN. We had to use our shoulders. And then we had to take the barrow out amongst the rabbit burrows and wire grass and prickly pear to collect the cow pats to make our own compost. But we helped each other. I think. Anyways, we had wire strung between posts to help our beans run. And our tomatoes climb. We had fingers to nip out the suckers - in the days when that was still de rigeur.

So, here I go, with my first veggie garden since 1977 when I was overwhelmed in Canberra with tomatoes and zucchinis and capsicum. Hah! The poor man from 'Woolies Online' when he had to deliver 10*25 litre bags of potting mix plus two bags of blood'n'bone. Now I need two more black bins and some more plants. I have two tomatoes (Russian Reds), nice leaf lettuce, and a tiny pumpkin. Also some rock melon seeds, but not convinced by them.

The old scavanger

See that old plant pot down there on the right, the largish, black plastic round one? It is now mine!

As I wander the streets and the gutters of my 'hood, I look for items that might come in handy in my garden. I am looking for things to get my plants up into the third dimension. The other day I found a blue plastic milk crate, not many lanes away, and hoiked it home. Today was a bit of a struggle as I was trying to take photos at the same time and not scratch Ann's camera that she so trustingly lent me. I didn't scratch it, I hasten to add Ann. *phew*

I will go back later this week and check out the other trays in this pile where the pot plant was. I think only the bottom two will be useful We scavengers must be discerning, you realise.

The chap in the apartment above me - who flew to the New England states of the USA today to experience 'fall' - managed to get me a couple of large black plastic (rectangular) containers from the convent whose garden he maintains. I mentioned that I wanted to start a veggie garden. I have sufficient soil for two tomato rings, and one other 'garden'. Shall go to 'Honeysuckle Garden' in Bondi Junction later this week to decide what to plant. Maybe some spinach. How hard is asparagus? Lots of water. Lots of manure? I will go read about asparagus.

Update: Perhaps, tomato, zucchini, silverbeet and rockmelon. Asparagus takes two years ...

Hunting and gathering

Maybe five years ago, I stumbled upon a film, a French film, entitled 'Hunting and Gathering' ('Ensemble, c'est tout'). It stars Paris, Audrey Tatou, and Guillaume Canet. Not only, but also, it features Francoise Bertin, as Paulette, the frail grandmother. And I fell in love. With Paulette's garden.

It is a cross between a junk-yard and a briar-patch. It uses all three dimensions. It divides the area, as entreated by landscapers the world over, into 'rooms'. In this case, des toilettes!


The film was based upon a romance by Anna Galvalda which I read in translation. However, I had seen the film too many times, and the real interest was in the briary. The poor writer was not to know that.

Should I admit to scouring the laneways of Paddo for orphaned crates, yes plastic milk crates suffice. For empty wine boxes. Wooden trays. Anything upon which to pose a plant, or a hunk of chain. I am seriously looking forward to 'Second Hand Sunday' on 18th September when I can come out of the closet, hold my head high and storm the bastions in search of treasure.

The blobs of jelly surrounding this custardy text, were taken in (and above) my courtyard prior to my camera being purloined last Wednesday morning early. The deckchair sling I purchased at 'Ici et La' (free plug).

Being bedded in Paris

Spring-time in Paris is just sublime. They manage such artistry in the planting of massed annuals. As you will know from 'Sydney Eye', there seems to be two themes emerging from this longer stay in Paris: parks and gardens, and cemeteries.

I have visited four cemeteries now: Passy, Montparness, Pere LaChaise, and Montmatre. Although I have shown a little of their story, there is still so much left to gossamer out to you over the coming months.

There are sooo many parks to add to those already seen: Tuileries, Jardin des Plantes, Jardins de Luxembourg, Parc du Laboure, and Parc Monceau. The Champs de Mars is not so much a park, as a parking lot - for coaches! Still to visit are: Buttes Chaumont, Vincentennes (and its floral parc), and Parc de Bagatelle which is part of the Bois de Bologne. All three are long metro journeys, but the metro is sooo smoothe and frequent!

Now, to what I have here to delight you. The top photograph was taken in Jardins de Luxembourg as were photos 5 and 6. It is truly a most handsome park. I have yet to return there on a quest to find the original Statue of Liberty. Might manage that on the way home today.


Photograps 2 and 3 and 4 were taken in Jardins de Plantes down in the 5eme. This is not really a 'botanic' gardens; well, not a patch on our botanic gardens in Austraia. There is not sufficient labelling and attention to botanic detail to inform the masses. Don't get me wrong. It is a delight! I loved the landscaping and the jumble. But I went there to learn - which was misguided of me. The garden beds were down the 'guts' of the Jardin, but the day was 25C and I was sans chapeau. So I wandered the avenues of Plane trees (the same tree that lines roadways down in the south of France).


Now, you will ask me detail of the gorgeous pink flower. To aid my memory, I photograph signs, too. So the pink flower is a variety of Peony (the label says 'Paeonia (Shin tohen) from the family paeoniaceae). I have not encountered the bush form before this. The flowers are massive and abundant. There is a grove of them along the Seine edge of the Jardins des Plantes. Red, mauve, pink, apricot, white. Overwhelming.


This final image is from the Montparnesse Cemetery, which is probably the most 'beautiful' of the cemeteries which I have visited. However, it did not have an abundance of bedded flowers. These were near the main entrance. The beauty of this cemetery was in the arrangement of flowering cherry and plum trees. I have shown you some of this on 'A pied'.

Springtime in Paris is a joy. But so is autumn. Soon I will take the bit between my teeth and visit during the depth of winter. I suspect I will never visit during the height of summer.