Staple of the Great Depression - Rhubarb

I thought to start by listing the staple Australian foods of The Great Depression. However, upon reflection, maybe I should specify which Depression! I mean, of course, the depression from 1929 to about 1935. The one where everyone was so scared of losing their money, they all stopped spending, and started saving. All at the same time. Meaning not enough people were buying to keep companies liquid, which resulted in lay-offs. And so the circle goes around.

I think the staples of that era were things one could grow oneself, or find in laneways or up in the town common: rabbits, chokos, rhubarb, lemons, passionfruit, apple cueys, iceberg lettuce, Grosse Lisse Tomatoes, offal (cheap from the back-door of the butchers - especially tripe).


My rhubarb is growing well - better than anything else I have planted. See what the back of the packet says: 'Start harvesting when the leaves have some colour'. But don't eat the leaves as they are toxic. Only take a few outside stems during the first year.

It has been a strange old summer. I have pulled the lettuce and the baby pumpkin, as they both succumbed to mould. I squash about 10 green grubs each morning from assorted plants. A runner on my strawberry has rooted, and is sending up shoots.

As Kirsten and her family are down the South Coast for a few days, I went over and re-organised her balcony pots this morning. Need to find a punnet of Sweet Williams before Wednesday. Somewhere ... on a bus route.

Three steps empty and two steps full

It is all very confusing and disheartening at the moment. It could be the weather. It could be me. More likely a combination of the two. I am losing plants more than I like at the moment, and I cannot figure out why. I lost a Redwing Azalea. I lost a French Lavender. I lost a lime, and my lemon is not firing on all cyclinders. Now my Wollemi Pine has curvature of the spine. I also have an influx of pests. More snails than normal. White butterflies chasing the tomatoes that I have and the guy in the flat above me has. Because I spray my tomatoes, the WB lays on nearly everything else. I have to be assiduous in looking under leaves for green caterpillars. I also have an invasion of sucking midges, which are keen on my 'erbs. Trials and tribulations.


Anyway, here are some Rockmelons I am growing from seed using the 'market forces' philosophy. Give them a chance to prove their mettle, and then weed out the runts of the litter. I shall weed down to perhaps four, and then see how that goes. Neither the pumpkin nor the zucchini is overwhelming me with produce. They don't seem to be able to carry fruit to term.

Here is an afternoon shot of my courtyard. I wonder if I do not get enough direct sunlight to be successful with a veggie garden.

Schizophrenic sans paranoia

My courtyard is bordering on the split personality: on the one hand, I want it to be productive; yet, on the other, I want it to provide sheer beauty, and tumbling variety. As you know, it is not large, although it is large in context. I cannot think of another apartment which has as much outdoor space as it has indoor space. That is one of the reasons I am paying a kings-ransom I suppose. And I hav just signed on for a two-year lease. But it is everything I could wish for. I need my feet on terra-firma. I like to think that my cat's have an outside available, even though the lazy blighters do not use in anything like as much as they should. Except for Cooper, who is making up for lost ground.

I was going to show you the black bins in which I am growing veggies. You can sort of see it in the shot showing the rhubarb and the capsicum. I need to keep the water AND the fertiliser up to these bins, as most veggies are gross feeders. I will learn from this year for next.

Next week I shall endeavour to show you a long shot, from above, to enable you to orient yourself. Today's shots were taken after the first wave of storm activity. In the first grouping we have Russian-Red tomatoes, then Black-Jack zucchinis. Below them, there is the rhubarb and the (red) capsicum on the left, and a couple of strawberries on the right. Don't know what sort of strawberries. Sorry.

In the second grouping we have Corn-flower blue Lobelias, together with a tumblng succulent. Beside them there is the staghorn and the fig, both of which are flourishing. The staghorn is particularly partial to diced banana skins. Following this are two shots of assorted succulents. I like succulents as they are easy to progagate making them cheap, and they can survive in small pots.

Small garden produce

Looking at my previous post of flourishing figs, I am so envious of my last year's ability! My figs are nowhere near this standard, at this stage. Shall have to feed them up, like a little Chinese boy at a banquet being feted by his grand-mama!

Here is an introduction to my productive handkerchief garden. At the top, we have rhubarb, which takes three seasons to stop being quite so bitter. Then I have the Blackjack Zucchini. I love them simply fried in butter and with ground black pepper. And finally, my lettuce. I think a variety of Butter Lettuce. I have 6 plants and really only need 3. I reckon they orta sell a punnet of mixed lettuce, just like in the stores where they sell the mixed leaf!

All this is in black recycling tubs. Show you in my next post.

Utility vs beauty

Swirling through the ether, the mantra is 'think global, act local'. I struggle to understand the emotions of standing in a large barn of an assembly hall whilst a voice booms over a PA '64 Sanderson Road - 100% destroyed'. I likewise struggle with how people can cope with the stench of river mud through 100% of their house, or lying for weeks through their paddocks. Or their house blown 100m up the road and all their possessions scattered. It has been and is, a trying summer. So, in a paradoxical way, my issues are the least of my worries.


I have a small courtyard, covered in tiles, surrounded by two storey terraces, except on the SW side - which is a road. The damage from the week plus of 32+ temperatures was more ambient heat than anything else. My garden was tended morning and evening.

I came to figs late in life, but am a devotee. My nostrils fill with the aroma of standing under a laden fig tree in the south of France in September 2008, the ripe fruit bursting from the pods. This year my tree has been equally laden. I have already eaten half a dozen . But now I have an issue. Most of my garden is ornamental, for pleasure rather than survival. I want to move the percentage just a little but worry about the lack of depth to the soil, and my own ability to cope with the workload.


It will always be the garden of a dilettante. I would love to have tomatoes tumbling down the wrought iron, but know that the grub of the white butterfly would make this a futile endeavour. What would you suggest? Perhaps zucchini or capsicum or rockmelon. Or green pea-pods dangling from a trellis.