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.

An aspidistra in the parlor

I've had this aspidistra for quite a few years now, but this is the best it has ever grown. Now, I am wondering if it sprouts flowers. Found this on Wiki: Aspidistra elatior is well-known in cultivation and has a reputation for withstanding neglect, giving rise to its common name of Cast-iron Plant. It is native to the southern islands of Japan. It is tolerant of low light, low humidity, temperature fluctuation and irregular watering. It is best situated in a position away from direct sun to avoid leaf bleaching. Good drainage is also required for optimal growth and to avoid root rot. The species is not seriously troubled by insects, however mites and scale may cause occasional problems. Its leaves and roots may be subject to browsing by hoofed mammals such as deer, as well as rodents and rabbits. Wike also had an image of an Aspidistra flower which I include.

Fade to beauty

This first gardenia reminds me of Richard Roxborough In 'Uncle Vanya'. And of her Cate-ness in 'Streetcar named Desire' - but not in Vanya.

There is a lived in quality to a gardenia past its prime - as though the essence of its life has been absorbed into its walls. It is real. It demands our attention. And our affection. It has a depth, a third dimension. It is worthy of our time.

A youthful gardenia can still trade on its beauty, as though that is all it has to give, just yet. There is a flatness, a singular dimension, that only experience, wrought by time, can remedy.

Green thumb at large

The word is out: I can keep things alive that others can only kill!

I have offered my daughter an hour of gardening per week. It is going splendidly - aided, of course, by all the rain we have received. Next week, I shall set up an herb garden on her kitchen window sill (Basil, Coriander and Italian Parsley). I saved a bundle of self-seeded violets from the planter boxes on her window sill, and interspersed them with succulents which I struck for her. I have a little nursery here in pots, to use when necessary. Other than that, gardening is simply keeping the muck down.


Speaking of which, my son asked me over for some tips on his garden. I assumed he wanted elbow-grease, but no. No, he didn't. I suggested. I pointed. He moved. He pulled. We reorganised things according to the sun's transit and the type of plant. We pulled out old and dying. Trimmed and swept. We even worked out a good spot for a Hills Hoist. He now is charged with obtainng one - legally!

Black thumb proofing

The 'green-thumb' gene is not on my family genome chart apparently. Both my children have an astouding ability to have plants die on them. Generally through lack of water, and any skerrick of interest. Not true. Kirsten has an interest but is time-poor.

So, over the next little while I am giving her 'garden' a lobotomy, much to the relief, I suspect, of my SiL. Whereas, 'til now, she has struggled with penunias and violets and marigolds, we have agreed that I replace them with a variety of succulents. I am establishing these in pots in my courtyard, and when I get back from Melbourne in the middle of November, I will transplate them into the planter boxes hanging off her juliet balcony.

A year down the track

My, doesn't time fly! This time a year ago, I was signing a contract for this apartment and trying to not have it cost me too much to break another lease. Now look at it! Like a rumble in the jungle ...

In the pink

Gardening in a courtyard does not afford vistas of annuals, or deeply fertile raised beds. It relies on ingenuity, nooks, and bric-a-brac. I have a range of plantings, but not multiples of the same variety. This week, I realised how many flowers there are in pink. Next week I will show you the difference a year makes.