Human Excavator

My son, Sam, will grow up to drive some sort of earth moving device. He could say combine harvester before he could walk. I think he is the only one that appreciated my earth moving endeavours. In the current Economic climate, our house hold, like the majority of other families out there is broke. Why is this relevant? Well personally as much as I love working in the garden. Callouses are a little hard to handle when there is about six layers of them on female hands. If I had a spare few hundred I would have hired an excavator.
I don’t have that extra cash right now so it’s the shovel, rake, mattock and wheelbarrow. I wondering if this is all false economy as Im sure the chiropractic cost is going to be huge. Then again it could be worse I could be broke and not have any gardening to do. Part of the reason I loving doing what I do is that at the end of the day, gardening costs as little or as much as you like.
Compost is free, so too cuttings from friends gardens or from that nice little shrub that hangs over that fence in town. If you’re the owner of that shrub and you have seen me there fugitively taking a sprig or two... errrm sorry, should have asked... Think of this way your getting a free tip prune. Im getting off track again.
Anyway back to the excavations. Still working in the garden behind the machinery shed around the large tank.
Slowly the garden has emerged. When I started this particular area I had no idea what would come out of it. The land sat there for well over a year growing a wonderful crop of weeds as I avoided looking at the expanse of it. A large area with a ugly big concrete water tank, at least that is birried for t he most part. Perhaps a large mosaic for the top? That would only take me the best part of a year. That tank is somewhat LARGE!

In the Face of Adversity

I hate it. I know its necessary. I cant not stand it it. IT turns me into a manic depressive in the depressive stage, A borderline personality with schizophrenic tendencies and a pathological need to scream at the heavens. WIND. The gentle breezes of south pacific this is not the movement of air I'm talking about.

The gusty HOT blowing wind that flicks cut grass up in your face like a swarm of bee's. The strength of such no hairspray, pins, hairbands etc can hold out against and you end up eating your own hair or having it constantly in your eyes. You cant keep your hat on and the dirt and grit get into places air shouldn't, let a lone grit. Whistling in your ear. I honestly want to just scream in frustration.

I know if I leave the house I will become ' she, who is to be avoided at all costs' I see my garden tossing and turning like a fever driven patient. I need to have my fingers in the cool earth. I want to have the smell of the cool damp earth rise up as I turn over my sun warmed vegetable gardens. I Do Not want it tossed into my face like a school child's anger driven shot.

I think I will go and watch the gale morosely out of my window at the garden I dare not go an pacify.

Anyone have any suggestions where I can live where there is No wind??

Signing back on after spring (The seasons of the WIND gah!)

Dont Cage Me In

In the beginning I planted the garden for a main reasons. To attract native wildlife. The purpose of the garden evolved a little. I wanted to make sure there were a lot of scented plants. Smelling the perfume as you wander around a garden may not always work directly on your conscious mind. I believe that a subtle scent can certain alter your mood and if you do happen to directly notice the smell then the deep breath you draw, up lifts you. I'm not sure that a garden can ever be brought into being without being multi functional. The wildlife, which I will get back too, was the driving influence.

A bare paddock with a mono culture of grass was perhaps the worst position to start from. Bare earth can be planted directly into. Weeds such as Lantana, Tobacco weed etc are not necessarily a bad thing, depending on what you want to do with the land. The larger weeds can give a protective canopy for some of the more tender rain forest species. These species generally will not do well when planted into the open. Camphor lorals are a nightmare, enough said.

Around the house the first things planted were bottle brush, Lilly pillies and Gravillias. Perhaps not species endemic to the rain forest that was the big scrub. Species that are endemic have been planted too. I think the last count of rain forest regeneration that we have replanted is 1000 endemic species. Each year we plant more and more. It is my hope, desire and belief that one day, before Tim and I pass on as custodians of this land. There will be at the very least 20 new hectares of rain forest regeneration. Every spare inch of land we hope to utilise.

At the start of the garden, my view of wildlife was a few birds coming in to drink at the pond. I was horrified when I was 8 months pregnant. Came down stairs and thought to myself, whats that electrical cord doing there where someone can trip over it? As I moved towards 'the electrical cord' it moved, FAST! Snakes were not the preferred wildlife. I have since softened my attitude towards the animals with cold blood but at the time there were many EEPS!!! My partner, with me standing on the arm of the lounge. (Hard to do, I think I was about 110kg by then) managed to persuade it to leave without injury to either species, human or snake.

Since we have had a resident red belly black snake living here. I have stopped with the eeps and just stood well back and sprayed it with the hose. They don't like this, doesn't harm them but they do learn that that area is not great to hang around. Spiders are another part of the biodiversity that doesn't thrill me. I do realise they are necessary and try and leave them alone. Capture and release is the house policy.

There have been joys in unexpected wildlife too. I was cleaning my teeth late one night with the bathroom door open onto the back yard. Turning at a sound there was a bandicoot hopping around. He or she, wasn't overly worried about me and I watched while cleaning my teeth, for about 10 mins. Don't think my teeth have ever been so clean.

The Echidna was fantastic made even more so because I could share this amazing animal with my son. I wish I could have removed the tick for it.

We have imported wildlife too. Our native bees were bought and placed here to take advantage of the abundance of native blooms we have now. They like the exotic species blooms too. We have native fish in the ponds. Always be aware of that too while I'm on that subject.
The animals you bring in can and will move into the native environment. Cats are the equivalent of a natural disaster. You can prevent this by keeping them indoors or in those excellent enclosed runs (they can be huge!). Even the fattest and most lazy cat will be a deterrent to wildlife. Please be a responsible pet owner. If you are an irresponsible cat owner and I have been in the past. PUT A BELL ON IT. Give the native animals a chance at the very least.


Exotic plants can be just as nasty. Pond weed is a good example. People put these wonderful looking plants into their ponds, thinking it doesn't overflow into a natural waterway. There are other ways of escape. A bird takes a drink, flies off with seeds or some of the weed stuck to its leg. Bingo weed escapes into the native environment.


Ask where you get the plants;


Is it native and endemic to the area? if yes Woot! If not ask;





How does this plant propagate its self.


Are the seeds produced on the plant are viable? if they are remove spent flowers, if you must have that particular plant.


Does it have a running habit like some bamboos? etc etc


Does it have the potential to become weedy?


Is it poisonous to humans or animals? The Dutchman's pipe is a classic example of why this question is important. A lovely looking vine it looks so much like a native vine that we have the Richmond Bird-wing butterfly lays its eggs on the exotic vine and the caterpillars that hatch die from eating the Poison/wrong food source. This butterfly is now endangered.

I am not against exotic plants. I have many in my garden. I like to pepper them through the natives. I knew a girl (Lets pretend it wasn't me.), that once said; I dislike natives they are ugly plants. She was right, some of them are ugly, mostly she was wrong. Natives to look good, need tip pruning regularly. When I say tip pruning this is how I do it. I walk around the garden with a cup of tea and pinch out any new tips that are growing straggly from the rest of the plant. I do this about once every 6-8 weeks. In most natives this causes the plant to branch out at the closest node from the tip prune. You end up with more flowers and a dense growth habit. Most natives too are natures design to save water, we are a dry continent. Small and less leaves, pale subdued greens, more branches all help our native plants survive the dry times. These features can make that lush cool green haven you wanted a little difficult to achieve. Notice I didn't say impossible. There are natives that have this lush habit. Native Gardenia is a perfect example, taro, gingers palms. For large backyards (Well huge), figs are stunning. Like me you can pepper your natives with exotics. Talk to your local native nursery, they will certainly have more of an idea than me.


At the end of the day I'm very proud that I have wildlife in the garden, snakes and spiders included. I love showing off my garden to all my visitors human, feathered furred and scale alike. Lets make sure our kids don't need to put a bird in a cage just to have it hang around.

Great Expectations

The higher the expectations you have for yourself the higher your achievements will be. Well at least that's the theory. I watch gardening Australia without fail. On the few occasions where I have missed both the Saturday and Sunday viewing of the program I have that feeling I have left something behind on a train that's now pulling out of the station. The information gained on the show is priceless. The segment I hang out for,the tours through some truly magnificent gardens. Gardens that have taken Decades to evolve. This is where for ten minutes or so Sam can hang off the ceiling fan, scream at the top of his lungs and abduct the sweets jar. I am obliviously absorbed, more than a little green with envy.
Gardens that have evolved to become an integral to the entire environment around them. Supporting thousands of different insects, birds and mammals. I am sure that peace, that sensation of breath, you have when viewing these stunning gardens, seeps through the electronic telling and pervades the living room of all who watch. This is the expectation of I have of my garden. I want it to seep into your body the way tension lets go after a deep breath. I want the greenery to be that refreshing, that harmonising. An expectation of moss covered trunks, birds high in a canopy, moist shade and the scent of Magnolia on the twilight. If I squint and look at the blue fig (quandong, spelling?), that just shoots away with a whiff of moisture, I can almost see the canopy forming. The birds are here. As the garden expands the variety of my feathered friends that visit its blossoms and leaves, expand too. The last time I bothered to go through the bird book and count the species I have seen inhabiting my garden and its surrounds, the count was around 50. Quite a few I have only seen once or twice, the bee eater, Mistletoe bird for example. Others now reside here quite happily and I see on a daily basis. Some of the smaller honey eaters have even come close to landing on me by mistake as I garden. I have asked myself the question, in moments of self reflection as I curse and kick in a hole dug under the mulch by an Echidna. For whom do I garden? Tim loves the garden, we will sip tea as we wander around arm in arm, looking at the various blooms as Sam bounces on ahead. Tim and Sam would be happy with the garden as it stands or even less, so why is that I garden? For my own pleasure ultimately. I am profoundly thankful that in selfish desire the results have depended on how well I can accommodate other living creatures. In accommodating these other creatures my garden is vastly different to how I envisaged it.
The white spot on the Echidna is not his eye. This is a large tick. I did attempt on several different tries to pull it out of this poor guy. He kept curling up and I wasn't brave enough or quick enough to run the gauntlet of his spines and successfully pull it. He survived the tick as most native animals do. How could I tell? He is still digging my garden up!!



Strange how we live to eat our words. "I will never have a rose garden!" how about, "Succulent gardens aren't my thing, too barren and harsh looking for me to have them in my garden" No thanks, I would prefer to eat my crow After my humble pie!





My expectations for my garden;


I will never be finished.


My garden will be every spare scrap of land around the orchard


My garden should be self sustaining, its canopy shading out with weeds and its mulch keeping the roots moist and fed.



My garden will be exotics and native, but it will be all native friendly!



I expect never to sit under the shade of most of the trees I have planted but I expect that someone will. I expect they will look and perhaps, take for granted; The birds in the canopy, the insects on the leaves and the Echidna's digging up the ground.



I hope so.
PS THE ONSEN STILL LEAKS HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From go to woe Tales of the Onsen!

A Japanese bath. Doesn't sound that hard does it? I have bush rock coming out of my ears. As you can see from the photo of the pond above. I am stretching the truth because I have actually used most of the bush rock I had on the property for various projects, rock walls, ponds etc. Getting more rock, which I have no doubt I will need, will be an exacting punishment for my little obsession. Collecting and picking up rock is what is commonly known as bloody boring and hard work!

This is the onsen, or an attempt at it. Notice its lack of height and generosity of girth.

I'm sure people will be pleased to correct me if I am wrong. I have always believed an Onsen, a Japanese Bath, to be quite narrow but tall, tall enough to almost stand up in and still be submerged up to your neck. I had a pit dug in the back of the lawn when I was lucky enough to have one of those Kanga Diggers with a driver at my disposal for a few hours. This is where it started to go wrong. I thought if I was going to be emptying the water after each use (The amount of rainfall we get here each year is HUGE and we have tanks so the occasional Onsen filled to the brim would have been acceptable. ) And everyone was showering before getting in why not make it for four people. My thinking was Summer afternoons spent with a few friends a glass or two of wine, some cheese and nibbles. Or even better steaming hot water the chill of winter above the water keeping the wine perfectly chilled.

I had the kanga and its driver for a few hours and coming to the end of this allotted time I did some fast talking. I had been playing with the idea of this onsen for ages. An hour before the Kanga was due to leave I was busy fluttering what little female charms I have in the direction of my partner. I'm pretty sure at the time I was fluttering to him I was dressed in his tracky dacks, tucked into socks and flip flops (a kind of sandal) and my fav t-shirt from high school that now has so many holes its 'spot the fabric' over an old yoga top I had used at once stage to dye my hair. Hmm rrrrrrright, I'm sure he was bowled over by my fashion statement, anyway I digress.

Explaining what you want done inadequately, to the man riding on the back of the ultimate sandpit toy, is not a good idea. The driver had looked at me cross-eyed when I had told him I wanted an over sized Onsen but because I didn't want to spent three years concreting rocks into a enclosed wall that high, could he dig me out a pit. then I could use the pit sides as bracing behind a layer of rocks.

I wanted a steep sided pit about four feet wide and about the same depth. I ended up with a shallow dish about 14 foot wide and about 1-2 foot deep... Working with this small change of specs, a saucer rather than my pit.

I went with the new size with new hopes! Make it more of a traditional spa/hot tub shape. So I considered doing the stone work myself. Surely it couldn't be too hard? The more I thought about it the more convinced I became that, yes, the building of this project was a little beyond my knowledge and strength (Some of those rocks ARE HUGE). So I hired a couple of guys. The brains of the operation warned me that it would not 'hold' water so to speak. I was assured it would be fine to fill have a soak and empty. As this rock tub rose from the earth I realised my greatest problem;

My basic principal that the amount of water used wouldn't be much more than a regular bath, went out the window. We do have great rainfall but I'm not going to waste 2000 litres for an evening with cheese and nibbles! The Onsen had become a monster! it was at least twice the size of what I had imagined. Any which way I worked it I couldn't get over the fact that it was not going to be filtered or chlorinated so there was little choice in emptying it after each use. My Onsen certainly wasn't going to be the relaxing weekly ritual I imagined it to be. Wait! I could put a table of bush rock in the centre and another bench seat to displace some of the water!

Good idea in theory, yet no matter how much extra seating and central pillar table work it was still at least 1000 litres of water a soak. I could not justify using that much water for one use.

Fast forward many months and I have finally accepted that I will need to leave the water in the 'Onsen'. This is when the onsen became the fish pond. So far so good. Fill it up add some plants and fish and off we go.

Fill 1

It leaked!!

Like a sieve.

First stage of woe, empty the 'fish pond' seal it with pond sealer. Oh so far we had used three times the amount of concrete we had anticipated, paid two guys a weeks worth of cash to build it and used A LOT of very expensive concrete bonding. On the upside the rocks were free for the picking... literally.

Fill 2

It still leaked!

Like a very sieve with cheese cloth as a liner

Second stage of woe, empty the fishpond again... block up the cracks seen with more concrete. seal again with more pond sealer

Fill 3

What do you know, it leaked!

I was starting to lose hope. If the leak looked like it was slowing down I would have been hearten it was like a tap flowing out almost as rapidly as I could fill it. Pull the plug and ... I'm outta idea's

Now this rock monument is sitting there out the back. Doing nothing and looking worse. One last try and sealing it?

Concrete the inside wall totally! use the existing structure as a frame and less the water holding part of the construction.

Fill 4..........................

I'm not sure, I'm waiting on the concrete and sealer to dry fully before I test it again. Pray for me, I don't have time to do anything more. Melb tomorrow back Wednesday final bits and pieces on Thursday and the final fill. Judging on Friday-Saturday.

In My Humble Abode

Paradise is taken for granted if you live here. Even if you are a 'stop and smell the roses' kind of person, when you live somewhere as idyllic as this, there are times when you need to remind yourself of how lucky you are. Take this week for example, my two favourite men in the world, this week, have not been my two favourite men. It's hardly fair of me to say this because however horribly they barked cranky little comments at me, they are normally fantastic and I could not even in my wildest dreams hope to have a family as wonderful. When they are ill you have to give some leniency, just in consideration for their state of health. The other side of the coin is I have been cranky too. Looking after two males with a head cold and cough, lets just say I have no idea why nurses do what they do. You couldn't pay me enough. And then of course there is the garden competition. So the only thing I have wanted to do despite the FREEZING gale force winds is get out there and garden. Judging for the competition of course is in the worst weekend possible for my garden. Thank the heavens for the lept-toe-spur-num. (That spelling is off the charts wrong there but it should sound similar to the correct name) What as show for such a small little native plant. Apart from the above photo, everything is browned off with the few light frosts that we have had in the past few weeks. The magnolias, that my garden is full of, at least have beautiful lime green new growth. Unfortunately the flowers are definitely finished. The wisteria is still a scraggly bunch of sticks with just a promise of growth.
Optimistically speaking everyone else is in the same climate zone as me. Pessimistically speaking, most of the gardens in the competition have at least a decade of growth on mine. Realistically my chances of winning anything are about zero to zip. The announcement of the competition has been great in terms of motivation for me. All these jobs that I have had half done, I have suddenly had to finish. The succulent garden is now cleaned up, it even has a few new spiky things that will stab me. That's good, gives me an excuse to curse every time I need to weed in close. I even skirted the finger lime. That task is a death of a thousand scratches! If sleeping beauty had had this plant growing over the walls of her palace, no prince charming would have been dumb enough to hack his way through that plant. Love the finger lime fruit its almost worth the loss of blood. The fruit are very special, do a Google search on Finger Limes Australia. The fruit is like lime caviar. You can see the finger lime in the above photo, it is the thin, lime green spiked plant, top middle of the photo. It does have small leaves between the spines about the same size as a pencil eraser. The fruit is about the same size as a smallish sausage. As the leaves are so small I have been told, unlike regular limes etc in the citrus family, it can only handle small amounts of fertilizer at a time.

The bank area in front of the shed that had a pile of timber (see above) and many a weed! Has been cleaned out much further around in preparation for the judging and now doesn't have that half lived in, eyesore, no house pride atmosphere, I hope! The second photo is from the other end but in the background you can see this timber pile has been moved, the area mowed and weed cleared (well at least cut well back from the growing jungle you can see in the first pic).

The area behind the shed near the large tank has been cleaned out and landscaped. I just have to finish the pond there (Yes another one). Poor Sam fell into this one too on that really cold day we had about a week ago. I'm sure it didn't help his cold.

This first shot, doesn't give a good look but its the only photograph of I have behind the machinery shed, you can see the area of brown tufted grass, that's the area I am working on atm. That grass has been killed it's taller than I am.

This photo gives you and idea of what I have to do with the rest of the area. Looks a little sparse doesn't it? I still have plantings to do and the plants will spread and get bigger.

I just cant put in gardens without a pond, its a genetic trait. This has been frantic too. The garden competition deadline is a cruel mistress!!

From whoa to where it is now has been I think about three weeks. My next spewing of a contorted version of the English language will go deeper into this new garden I'm very excited about it and like most gardeners I will need to practice Patience, wait for the plants to grow in their own time, but if there was a way of cheating I would be there.

Save Money build your own sandpit

Sounds good in theory doesn't it? saving money by building your own sandpit rather than buying a generic prefabricated one from the shops. I talked the talk with my partner Tim and convinced him that this was the best idea, with the small disaster that was the onsen... I will leave the tale of that little interlude in my life for another day. Convincing him could have been considered Divine intervention. The area that really should have been done first was an eyesore to anyone arriving at the property. This picture is it after I had already done battle with the lantana that had sprung up and the deadly nightshades that needed a garden saw to get through the trunks. As you can see there is now bananas, right next to them you can only just sorta see what first greets visitors, a lovely compost heap, twin bed corrugated iron one. All the gardeners that visited were suitably impressed, others, hmm. Time to tidy up what will forever more be know as the bank area.

I went with an idea that I think holds merit. Why plant a just a tree when you can plant a tree for being a tree and for offering produce. The bank plantings were wide and mostly food trees, well known ones and more obscure ones too. The ones that don't produce a harvest that are on the bank are either; self seeded rain forest trees, we have a nice little cork tree. Or tree's like the port wine that were planted for their scent and lush foliage. Most are trees that will give a yield. Like all my gardens its a work in progress.

Once I had battled the woody weeds the black/green ants we so adore here, NOT! I planted with the vain hope the shade that would soon ensue would kill all the giant seteria. Still waiting for that. Tim and I discussed where the sandpit should go and we both decided that a good clear view to the front veranda was essential.

I didn't want any old sand pit, hence my avoidance of the prefab ones. I wanted a sand pit that years on would sit be in use, 'collapsed sand tunnels the grave for many a matchbox car'. That kind of sand pit you use to hang to get around to your friends house to play in. So with that in mind I worked with the general lay of the land. I needed to dig a perimeter trench to place the old fence posts I had decided I wanted as the walls for two reasons.

1. They are hardwood and will last at least as long as my son wants a sand pit.

2. It matches in with the rest of the garden walls, I use a mixture of natural bush rock and these fence posts.

3. They would certainly be strong enough once concreted in to hold the weight of the sand.

4. As my son was very young at the time use of higher fence posts at the rear discouraged him from wandering off in the macadamia orchard.

Like most areas around the house the digging was horrendous. The weight of a D9 compacting the soil in the workable areas of the house garden are iron bar jobs. As the sandpits front boundary was on the area where the trucks turn it was even more compacted if that is possible. Once I had the walls up then it was simply a matter of lining the inside as high as I wanted the sand with weed matting. This stops the sand leaking out the gaps in the fence. I used a large rhombus of old carpet under the bulk of the sand too. We have red soil here, I wanted to stop it mixing with the white sand. My son is very fair too, we insist on a hat etc outside but the shade sails provide even more coverage. Poor Mandarin isn't appreciating it however. I went with thicker stay posts to hold the sails as we can get really strong winds here too. The hardware was very helpful with what I needed there. As for saying money;

The posts were free basically, we recycled all the fence posts we had from dismantling the cattle paddocks.

The carpet at the bottom of the pit was free too, our local carpet place would have had to dispose of it.

The concrete to set the fence posts cost 4 20kg rapid set bags

The weed matting I bought I think that was four metres I bought all up

The Sand was 2m square, bought again

The Sail logs were all bought they weren't expensive

The stainless steel fittings to hold the shade sails were all bought

The two shade sails were bought

Cheaper than buying your own. NOT ON YOUR LIFE.

but it was fun, looks better in my garden than a prefab one would have and ITS HUGE!!!

My son loves it and that's the important part

Evolution

You may have noticed I don’t tend to edit my posts. The spelling will be shocking and your English teacher would be out cold at my laughable attempt at grammar. I write what’s bubbling around in my head and that is not often the most floral of displays. First and only apologies along that level. I have mentioned where my love of ponds originates from and it has persevered through many critic’s valid or not.

The first of whom where my parents. The points they made were solid; Earth does not hold water well (unless the clay content is off the scales). Builders plastic is too thin to make good pond liner and yes they are a breeding ground for mosquitoes unless you have some good control predators like fish.

All these issues and more I was warned about. Stubbornly I refused listen at the least and like trying to grow out of climate plants, there were more than a few stinking stagnant deaths. I have also learnt which rules can be bent.
I have learnt that your pond can survive without an aeration pump but this set up is not really for the novice pond builder you are likely to end up with green algae soup so thick you could almost do an encore performance of Jesus walking on water.
Another thing to consider is children and small pets.

Small pets generally aren’t a problem with a pond no matter how deep as long as the edge is easy for them to scramble up over. If you have children my advice is to fence your lovely tranquil water area in a child proof fence and it may very well be law where you live. A good idea to check with your local government.
When my little boy Sam was born we had two very deep ponds straight off the back veranda. Tim and I made the commitment that the door remained closed at all times to outside. Not the solution I would suggest to anyone. I certainly was a nervous wreck when my son was outside. One of us was always within arms reach of him, this is not an easy task and I still do not let him out of my sight for than a few seconds in the garden.

We took him to swimming classes from 3 months old AND I am a cruel and horrible mother. I watched, within arms reach as one of my sons footballs balls went into the icy water. Like any child he reached for it, falling in himself, watching him flounder and scream as he clambered out was emotional torture. I wanted him to remember though. His life may depend upon it. He is extreamly careful around all the ponds after that experiance but I am still always close.

The pond, my son fell into, is EXTREMELY cold considering we live in the subtropics. When Im cleaning it and my toes are blue, I swear it must have a dimensional worm hole at the bottom that connects it to the antarctic

Drowning are for the most part preventable Don't think that just because your pond is ankle deep, it's safe. Kids can knock their heads and drown in an inch of water able to swim or not. Deep edges turn them turtle and they dont have the upper body strenght to wright themselves.

So Im repeating myself but; First check with the laws in your area as to what you can and cant have. Be aware that kids can drown in seconds and should never be near water without responsible adult supervision.

After you deal with the safety issues then the fun begins. All children are fascinated with the way tadpoles turn into frogs and a pond is great way of teaching kids that nature doesnt need to be in a cage to be appreciated.

Insects are suddenly something to be watched not feared.

My son, doesn't he look like a bright little spark. :-P grows his own jade plant and helps me wonderfully in the garden. Below Sam's Jade Plant, he decorated the pot too.He knows where his food comes from. He know what to do if he sees a snake "Stand Still and call 'MUM SNAKE'" Unfortunately in this photo he looks like an absolute genius. So you can't tell that he is as normal as every other child and that every child could have similar knowledge with a little time in the garden. Besides making mud pies is about as good as it gets.

Like most passions... okay obsessions it started at a tender age

So here I am I have land. Land a plenty in which to garden. Natural rainfall that we upon occasions have the nerve to complain about. A climate that grows almost anything. I, like many other new gardeners I know, have some perverse fetish to grow plants outside the wide climate range we can actually grow here.
What EXACTLY is wrong with trying to grow berries fruit here again? I know they like the cold, yes I know they need that period of dormancy with night below certain temps for however many hours, yes I know if they do manage to squeeze out a few measly fruit they will be watery and tasteless compared to their southern cousins, all this is if they manage to survive the ravages of high humidity. But tell me again exactly what is wrong with trying? I would give my eye teeth to be able to put tulips in the garden and have them bloom. I diverse and I do that a lot.
What is this passions for ponds? Growing up there was a national park at our back door so to speak. There were these streams and watercourse complete with little waterfalls that use to entrance me for hours. Cold flowing water under the dappled shade of huge trees. Yabbies, leeches, water spiders, birds, snakes, bull-ants longer than your big toe. The occasional Kangaroo or Wallaby, an echidna. Flowing down eventually to where the salt water met the fresh in another flush of life.

There is a quote and I have no idea who first coined the phase but its true;
"Where there is water there is life"
Im not sure about the depths of space but in the garden this is true. The native trees you plant will attract the birds. Put in a area they can drink and bathe and you will attract twice as many. One of the happiest memories I have of my childhood is visiting my grandmother in her old Sydney house. To a little girl it was the next best thing to a castle. Set on a sloping site of two very different levels cut into Sydney bedrock it was like a dolls house. A long drive way down the side with, do you remember that Green corrugated roofing plastic? Well that stuff half way down at the main Entrance as a carport. A big old kumquat tree opposite the front door and an old wooden garage struggling with the weight of a huge leafy vine of some kind. The front was a lovely little square of lawn with rambling flowers bordering the street and drive. Grandmother Care-Care, as I called her. Would hunt for snails in the early morning there and drown them in an old galvanised watering can she kept just for this purpose. The sun room opened out onto this garden with a small patio of flag stone and an arbor under a double Juliet balcony covered in the most beautiful old wisteria I have ever seen. Breakfast, grandmother’s pressure cooked porridge, in spring with my grandmother after a rather icy dip at a nearby beach was perhaps akin to having breakfast in the realm of fantasy as you sat out there under veil of those wonderful purple racemes.
I shan’t tell you of the back garden yet for it holds the warmest memories let me tell you first of the house, The down stairs was a strange mixture of light and dark. The entry under the stairs was all wood panelled and dark, the green filtered like that can through the diamond bevelled front entry windows was always cool even on the hottest of days. I think the carpet was dark and hard like old Sisal but it may even have been stone or marble There was a small Deco clock too, unseen from the entry its measured voice seemed to just add to the air of cool and calm as you entered. The kitchen down the hall was large in size but like most house of that area it wasn’t terribly functional. Cool large and dark too I can remember the taps were old. They weren’t chromed like the fresh smooth lines of the ones you see these days they were silver, but old and knobbly. I can remember clearly the window behind that sink looked out over the hydrangeas at the laundry door. The laundry was the most fun as I aged, it had a laundry shoot from upstairs that, if you were tricky and stupid enough, your legs could wedge you in. Technically stopping you from dropping like a stone, from a tall second story. Oh, being an old house when I mean tall, the ceiling of the first story must have been close to 16 feet if not higher.
An endless fascination for me as a child was the toilet off the laundry. The system was up high and you had to pull a chain to flush it, not too hard mind it use to stick and run. An old house overseas is upwards of 200 years. Here, in Australia, I think our oldest is about 210. I think this might have been one of the original old houses in Mosman. Reminiscing here I miss the house and my grandmother.
The dinning room which only had a workout at Christmas was central downstairs and held little interest for me I wasn’t allowed to run in there it was dark having only borrowed light from the sun room and music hall. The table, a big old walnut thing seated at least 10, took up most of the room and there was the music hall that could be used to avoid even entering it dry dusty silence. The Television room and the sun room downstairs were connected by this music hall and it held all sorts of things, cupboards holding; scrolls of perforated paper for a piano that played its self when you pedaled. Strange games with carved bone and wooden markers, yellowing snakes and ladders with a rainbow of choking sized plastic markers, wooden dice with worn and lost dots.
, moth-eaten hats, old books with dust covers too old and faded to read. Tennis balls with most of the fur scuffed from them and the most fascinating of all, tennis rackets with cat gut strings. We still used these on occasion when we could be bothered to roll the clay back on the court at the lower level of the block. Wooden blinds held out most of the westerly sun but on a cold winters day it was the nicest place to sit in the afternoons with a book and a hot milo.

Sounds pretty good for a kid so far doesn’t it? I haven’t even mentioned the best bits yet. The stairs curled up around and over the entry way to the second story, a small landing led to the main bedroom, full of light and with an a frame roof I can remember so clearly my grandmothers dresser with all of her wonderful trinket boxes. Some silver with birds delicately embossed into them, Crystal oysters that opened and the smell of Fiji perfume. I still love that scent. The double Juliet balcony looked down to the garden below and further down again the tennis court borrowing vistas from many jacarandas, rain-trees and other tall timbers fin neighbouring yards.
There was nothing terribly special about the spare rooms everything just seemed so BIG, the beds were huge to me, and the wardrobes could have been used as inspiration in ‘ The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe’ In the covers I felt like I could have live quiet warm and comfortably in the arctic.
Even as a child I can remember thinking how absolutely stunning the bathroom was. The bath was large like everything else in the house and was blue. There was a curved shell tile soap holder above it under the huge frosted glass window. There was enormous glass jars on the bath shelf holding every bath-oil pearls known to a body paper shop, there were so many different colours shapes and sizes of soap, there was bath salts by the pound. Each visit I was allowed one bath a day with a soap, oil or salts of my choice. Still havent mentioned the best bits yet
I have a confession it’s a toss up for the best part of the house between the back garden and this;
This house had a court yard at the top of the house with a turret it came off the third bedroom, or studio as my grandmother had it set up as. Not large it was perhaps three by three metres but it had sandstone blocks as the wall around with interwoven iron work. To a young girl it was a castle. At night I would sneak out and look over the harbor towards the lights of Sydney. Many nights I sat out there wrapped in the quilt with my breath steaming.
Many days were spent lost in my other passion and this was my introduction to a simulated wild watering hole. A couple of old leaking water tubs. The back garden held many things. Big, blue, mop head hydrangeas, a passage to the next door neighbour I use to go pester. Jerusalem artichokes. An a-ray of many herbs, the obligatory hills hoist and a narrow passaged stairway that was too dangerous for children to take on until they are 4 or 5. Even then on many occasions running down or up from the tennis court I nearly completed the full 30 foot fall. That first sliver of water in a mass of overgrown cottage garden showed me frogs, tadpoles, boatmen water weed, wrigglers and every child’s delight; mud. This was created just by adding water and some plants. PICTURES TO COME I HAVE TO DIG OUT OUT PHOTO ALBUMS

So it Begins "Chronic Pond building Anonymous"

Years ago my ancestors or people like them, worked harder than most of us will ever know, to clear what was known as the Big Scrub. The Big Scrub such a casual name for what was one of Australia's greatest forested areas. This forest was a large area of Subtropical Rain forest in the north-eastern corner of N.S.W spreading up into Queensland. When the Europeans arrived they cleared almost all of this forest for timber and left the land open for cattle country. The Green paddock in this photo is typical of what has become of this forest. As well as working a living from this land we wish to restore at least some of this grassland to its original cover of timber. This photograph is of the property in 2000, its looking back from the South/ South Eastern side of the block back towards what will be the site of the shed where we will live as Tim plants out the Macadamia Orchard. When Tim finishes the initial Planting of the Macadamia trees in 2005 there will be just under 7000 trees on 80 acres.

(20 of these acres we plan to reforest with species that would have been endemic to this area of the Big Scrub. Looking at this photograph now it encouraging to see how much a landscape can change in just a few years. This is the first planting of native rain forest trees in 2003. This planting is on the north-western slope of the orchard, well away from the previous photos of the shed site. Five hundred local native trees were planted with very few deaths. The black tree guards seen here are wallaby guards, only needed for the species they prefer to nibble on. )

This view is looking back towards the windmill back at the shed site. The windmill itself is just out of view to your left. That Dot on the right hand side of the earthworks is a wonderfully HEAVY D9 Bulldozer compacting my soil to that lovely concrete consistency every gardener will love to hate.

This picture shows what is to be the bones of the shed. The shed we will reside in, rising out of the freshly compacted paddock. The D9 has done its worst and moved on, thankfully, Iron bars aren't my Fav gardening tool.

Looking at that, the cold structure of steel and bare earth, the mind boggles. A totally blank canvas, no real points of interest and a general rural view in all directions. For someone that has tackled little more than a garden bed this is a Herculean task, a blank page, a daunting vastness that struggles with the lack of limitations unlike most suburban blocks. Looking back now I should have let my fingers do the walking and hired a professional. As I love to mix my metaphors lets go with this twisted version; Rolling fools Gather no moss, and so it was. I stepped in, knocking aside all fearful angels with the blind enthusiasm of the ignorant.

In more than one way I have been extremely lucky, Red Soil even as run down as this cow paddock was, is a great base to start from. The rainfall that we naturally have has most of the rest of the country dry and withered with envy.

I started with soil testing a garden layout and design.... hang a moment, wait! That noise you can hear over the hum of your computer would be my nose gaining many inches. I confess I lie, soil tests and a design on paper would have been the sensible approach. My way of gardening is almost a controlled fall, a happy accident. To call my gardens designed would be pushing the limits of the meaning of the word. An Evolving Garden Form, might be a better turn of phrase. The only preconceived notions for the most part in my gardens are the ponds. Everything Else flows from those central features. I have an Admission I must in all good conscious admit. This was not my first pond or my second or even my third pond. I have been a chronic pond builder now for many years. I will not age myself, this I shall tell. I have clear memories of exploring my grandmothers leaking pond in Mosman from the age of five and creating my own ponds from about the age of 12 This pond was however the first in this garden. It was this pond that tickled my awareness with the sensory world of plants. This photo is taken a month or so after it was filled. Being on a property with dams, creeks, storm drains and without Children to worry at this stage, this pond is deeper than it looks.

As it was not my first pond I had learnt many tricks of the trade. These lessons were mostly learnt through numerous leaks, idiot flat mate idea's and many a putrid mess of foul smelling -oh-you-have-to-be-joking green slime messes.

This is the same pond a year or two on

1. Your pond will always be smaller than the hole looks as you are digging.

2 Line your hole/pits with old/used carpet (normally free if you have a friendly carpet shop nearby) This stops sharp rocks poking through the liner

3 Ditto with lining your feature rocks. Have a cushion of extra plastic/carpet under the weight of the rock on the liner.

4 Make sure your overflow goes with the natural drainage lines of the land. This just means, Water flows down hill remember that

5 A spirit level makes things easy with where your water line will lay

6 About 1/3 coverage with water plants balances the pond

7 Plastic isn't a good look, rock rock and rock some more around the edge.

8 Make the deepest part where you are going to put your aeration pump

9 There is a secret to joining pond liner that I have yet to master

This is an approximation of how the above pond currently fits into our landscape. As you can see from this I have built many more ponds and there is another shed to the east of the original shed.