I have a confession to make – the most amazing source of visual pleasure in my garden right now is my rusty wheelbarrow full of colourful flowers. It freaks me out slightly to say that because a wheelbarrow of flowers is up there in the highest echelons of garden kitsch. I’ve always had garden kitsch vertigo. Wishing wells, model trains, giant fake boots, gnomes and wheelbarrows have always given me a minor case of the horrors. Even giant concrete fly agarics (unless accompanied by Smurfs……) make me recoil.
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Garden Kitsch Vertigo
Weird Science in the Garden
Every now and then my Inner Science Geek escapes the fairly loose leash I keep it on and weird science in the garden is the result.
I haven’t mentioned my bevy of carnivorous beauties lately, winter is their dormant period and as a result they’re not looking their best – and like all true supermodels they absolutely refuse to appear in public looking less than hot. Prima donnas, the lot of them!
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Gardening Lubrication
This is how it’s done in Crazy Garden Ladyland.
It’s Not The Hoover But It’s Pretty
All up and down our stretch of coast are small coal mines and accompanying small towns that evolved from the tents and shacks that housed the miners. And of course, where there are miners there are pubs and the need for beer, and back in ancient* times, a lot of the pubs not on the post track usually brewed their own ale, for which a fresh water source was desirable.
And I suppose it was useful for drinking and washing and brewing a cuppa as well.
Crazy Car Man had found our village’s original dam on one of his Rural Fire Service bush whacking adventures, and knowing my interest in ancient architecture, history and general planty things, he organised an excursion for me. So I donned walking boots, put the ankles to the test and went bush whacking with him to discover the spring from whence our village was sprung.
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The Broc That Never Was
Romanesco Broccoli is an example of Mother Nature at her photogenic best. It’s mathematics and design and colour and food all wrapped up in one plant. It’s the Leonardo de Vinci equivalent of the the plant world – scientist, dreamer and artist.
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The Mounds Are Alive!
The beginnings of my Three Sisters companion planting extravaganza got off to a promising start. Mound creation turned out to be an entertaining experience for both myself and Crazy Car Man, and while Nick the Landlord (ancient Italian farmer of the traditional, chemical laden technique) looked askance at what I had done to his prime growing land before tottering off on his two walking sticks muttering under his breath about mad city chicks, I think he’s secretly interested in what’s going on.
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Mother Nature Takes It Back
Crazy Car Man is an upstanding member of our community. We live in a high risk fire zone and he has proven his worth as an Australian permanent resident by joining the Rural Fire Service. He gains a lot from this venture – doing something good for the community, meeting people in the area, exploring the bush trails around our home and getting to be a hero on occasion. I gain a lot from this venture – he has a fireman’s uniform!
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The Chairman Ruffles Some Feathers
Five years ago, Crazy Car Man and I did a mad mad journey overland from Bangkok in Thailand all the way back to London. It was awesome – a life defining journey, the time I daydream the most about, a modern history class brought to life. We mixed serious and frivolous, sometimes at the same time.
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Seven Things
Drum roll…………Cape on the Corner take a bow!
I can’t remember exactly how I found Madame Cape, it was quite possibly in the wee hours and I was doing my usual blog catch up and something on someone’s blog made me go somewhere and somehow I ended up in the burbs of Philadelphia absorbed in the trials and tribulations of renovating the Cape on the Corner. I nodded and pondered and laughed out loud and finally left a post and have been back again and again putting my two cents in whenever I feel the urge. I like the way she writes – she’s snappy and eloquent and amusing and for that alone she’s on the cool list.
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Pah, I Spit On Your Sunshine
When I got my Hellebore and then researched it (yes, I do tend to do these things a little wonky, most folk would research and then buy, but this is my way of rebelling against societal norms – buying plants as a social statement, how punk rock of me) I discovered that these little beauties will live quite happily in a shady position. So mine got the five star shady treatment, a prime position in the Porch Garden, with bright light but no direct sunshine.
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