One week of winter

I picked a large daffodil for the kitchen windowsill this morning to ponder while I emptied the box of Uncle Toby's oats.

That large lone daffodil was magnificent in the midst of swathes of lemony little jonquils that have emerged from the path cut by the Bob Cat. The jonquils had been suppressed by the 100 year old shrubbery that we ripped out.

 The daffodil and all its promise of spring was more lovely as it stood with me looking out at the cold misty morning from the warmth of the kitchen as I breakfasted for the last time this year on oats (a superfood we're told, that reduces cholesterol if eaten in sufficient abundance) with skim milk (to preserve the slender form) and honey (to reduce inflammation of the joints). The oats have expired along with winter, and spring holds better promises.

Beyond the kitchen window the Japonica something is blossoming a scarlet tinged pink.In the picture above you can see it feintly. Still haven't bought my new camera. And I still haven't identified this so often leafless shrub which goes on to produce small quilted fruit like apples. Tasteless. I am just grateful we did yield to the Bob Cat operator's convenience. So many bulbs have popped back up, and some of the shrubs are returning warily.

Half a dozen gnarly old apples and plums remains as the centerpiece for our spring project, a meadow of self seeding annuals interspersed with salvias, daisies and a path of odd shaped stepping stones that I retrieved for $2 each the the Junktion (Tip Shop). Oh, and if the trees don't fruit, rambler roses will be grown over them.

I have not blogged since May. Reason (1) I have not been gardening much due to the continued degeneration of my Evil Knee (2) I suspended all deadlines, urgency and planning around the garden - it was meant to be a ten year project, and it hardly matters when it is"finished"  (because gardens are never finished).


But yesterday, with winter almost done, Juliet and I hobbled to the Growers Markets in Bathurst. Dwarfs have very little legs, so Juliet's walking capacity matches mine perfectly. We visited our two favourite growers, who are getting to know us: the Blue Wren native nursery which sell things in $4 tubes that are acclimatised to Cow Flat, and the cottage garden keepers who come in from 100km away, with big pots of established hardy perennials. Yesterday we also met a new fellow who lives locally and raises herbs. Next week Linda, my lovely gardener, comes back after her winter "holiday" (unpaid leave, sorry) to begin planting and cultivating our new projects.

To make some concessions to the Evil Knee (E.K.) my herbs will be moved up to small new beds right next to the house, where I can look after them....rather than down in the valley where the chickens can dig without my supervision. I am going to build a Medieval garden down in the valley and let it run wild - I have even bought those voracious nuisances Comfrey and Jerusalem artichoke to go populate the forgotten corners.I am thinking of a backdrop of another equally weedy item, the California Lilac, only because it attracts bees, and as long as they are way down in the valley land grabbing won't bother me  (it's really just a little slope, but it's the E.K. talking). Now I know these plants don't sound terribly Medieval, but in the midst of this will go to the Madder and Indigo, and all the other dye plants that I am trying to source.

Our solar power is going in within the next few weeks, and my next plan is to link a second water tank to my studio, to feed the Medieval garden and the vegetables. I state that baldly, knowing there will be no veg this year due to the next round of surgery on the E.K., and the studio exists only in my mind, and in the imagination of one of my Handy Men. The studio will be an"extension" of the Number 1 Dunny which has the best distance views back to the Central West. It will be built of the convict bricks, the ancient timbers we have retrieved, old stone, oak doors and the iron machinery parts from the rust gallery. This Handy Man has done some extraordinary retrievals of very old Bathurst buildings, and he loves to source beautiful original bits of stuff to do creative constructions.

So if I didn't work in the garden much this winter, what did I do (apart from teach 500 students, cook amazing food, sing in the choir, swim laps, chauffeur my granddaughter and write some articles for academic journals).....see below. I prepared Alpaca fleece for spinning and I spun, plied, knitted, weaved and crocheted away the long winter evenings. Thankfully it's my left knee that is exceedingly evil, leaving me the capacity to spin with the stronger right leg, which is also my driving leg (automatic  car, no left leg needed). Next year I'm hoping that my Alpaca  fleece will be spun by the end of winter and dyed from my Medieval garden. The colours will be more subtle than the commercial dyes.