Neighbourhood Watch

These massive beauties make me laugh and until Jeff Koons hits town and shapes some of his iconic puppies out of them, my artistic aspirations will have to be satisfied by cake decorating; these particular blooms are the exact shade of Allen's 'Ripe Rasberries.' I almost feel like sending in a suggestion for the Women's Weekly Birthday Cake book! You can tell I'm still reeling from Miss C's birthday extravaganza...

At this time of year, every shade of Rhodo is ubiquitious and yet completely unique. They are seriously showy and have always struck me as azaleas on steroids. In my little bit of research, it seems this is precisely the case both in flower and stature; the main difference is one of size. This shot demonstartes it perfectly - you'll never see an azalea even vaguely comparing to a telegraph pole!

Additionally, most azalea blooms occur individually; that is one flower to one stem, whereas the rhodo's blossoms occur en masse. At Magic Garden, I have one pink specimen that is so heavy with flower, half the plant has bowed under the weight and there's a gaping hole between top and bottom. This has provided a neat window to an azalea behind but it does make me wonder about whether a rather severe prune is needed. Thanks to the good folk at wikipedia*, I've also learnt that whilst the word Rhododendron comes from the Greek: ροδον, rodon, meaning "rose", and δενδρον, dendron, meaning "tree", it cannot lay claim to its own alcoholic beverage. Next time you're in Korea, keep an eye out for Tugyonju, "azalea grape wine," and please, do post your thoughts.


As mentioned in my last post, the crab apple will always have a special place in my heart. I think they are just delightful, a tart intrusion upon the landscape and a more robust blossom than most. I am amazed that Magic Garden hasn't one hidden away and it saddens me greatly. Plus, OMG is so very well established, it's not like I can just pop one in willy-nilly - there's literally no room and even if I was to shoehorn one in, it wouldn't be fair as there's so much competition, it wouldn't thrive...which would disappoint me doubly. Until I can work out a more equitable arrangement for all, I am taking solance in my lovely neighbour's delighful specimen.



Positioned in the front yard, it is hidden behind a rather high hedge and you really only notice it from the side gate. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that its neighbour is this very fetching Magnolia, another favourite whose close proximity I had been lamenting. I love its languid branches and between these two beautifully compatible bedfellows, the canopy they create is a haven of cool shade. All that's missing is a hammock, a good book and me...maybe a houseboy on hand with a fresh pitcher of homemade lemonade.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhododendron

Spring has sprung?

Confession time: the first of September came and went and I missed it! I am quite happy to blame baby brain because I'd planned a celebratory 'Spring is sprung' post and I got to last Friday and realised I'd missed the boat. That's what happens when you're 30 weeks pregnant. I keep telling myself, just because the calendar says it is so, doesn't mean the weather is listening and up here mountainside, we are definitely a good month behind our warmer coastal cousins.* So despite the jaw dropping display of blossoms that are just everywhere, I am no closer to returning to my most beloved barefoot summer self. A painted toenail self, buoyant on warm waves of salt water and summer sun. A bikini figures prominently (this is how we know this is fantasy land!) and daylight savings is as permanent a fixture as my healthy, glowing tan.** What I have worked out is that now that I know the calendar has turned, mentally my brain is telling me it should be getting warmer...with the exception of last Wednesday, it's just NOT!

This particular day of spring's beginning is the divine Miss C's birthday. She is three and oh so fabulous, oh so hilarious. Amazing that between Husbando and I, we have managed to keep this tiny creature alive, that she's articulate and thriving, funny and kind. The next year is going to be massive for her, she's off to pre-school and perhaps more importantly, about to become a big sister. After her party today, she was a little miffed that no-one had brought her Pooh Bear a present, as it is his birthday too... who can blame them, it hadn't occurred to me either! But I think it's a telling aspect of her personality, she didn't let it get in the way of her opening her own presents and she didn't bring it up until we were getting ready to have a much needed nap. I like to think this reveals her good manners. When I suggested she'd just have to share her gifts with Pooh Bear, she took it in her stride and he wore her new tiara out for dinner tonight. So even if he is inanimate, she knows how to share and I'm taking this as proof Husbando and I are doing something right.

In the weeks before I gave birth to Miss C, our Magnolia had come into flower and much like myself, the Cherry Blossom was ripening. Up on Armstrong St, the neighbourhood's best Crab Apple, (malus floribunda, I can, in fact remember some things) was a confection of pink and white, the tartness of new green leaves slowly upstaging the sweet. It's one of my favourite things, the dominant, showy blossom giving way to the fresh leaves. Reminds me of a very sickly lolly, the toffee apple and I don't mean a real apple dipped in toffee!*** Part of the bittersweet beauty of life can be marked by memories of what plants are in bloom. The spring of my childhood was always synonymous with the massed Azaleas that spelt out Lane Cove on Epping Rd, until one of my Mum's oldest friends told me she couldn't see them without remembering when her father died. Not many remain now because of the Gore Hill freeway and the bus interchange. And the Lane Cove tunnel means that unless, you're driving to Lane Cove specifically, you'd not have reason to pass and recall the fact that once upon a time, during a spring time traffic jam, that particular part of the world was that little more lovely and that someone very much loved was lost but not forgotten.

*Please forgive, sometimes I can get a tad city mouse, country mouse...I keep it in check most of the time because I really do enjoy the best of both worlds.

**Not that I in any way advocate solariums or unsafe tanning practise. However, I have become a little more aware of Vitamin D of late, in terms of the important role it plays in helping the body process calcium. No matter how sunny and inviting the day might seem, living where I do, going out with bare skin exposed for 10 minutes in 10 degree C temperatures is going to feel like lunacy! Confession number two, I guess, I do fantasise about getting tan.

***Which, for the record, I've always found rather overrated. Mostly, I guess you usually find them at fetes or fruit and veg shops and the apples used always seem to be horrid and floury. Makes me wonder if a little tart bonanza or sundowner might shift the balance...note to self, get Mum to teach me the art of toffee making.

Blossom Magic

Here's the promised porn...you won't see me writing that too often!

At the top is Coryopsis Spicata, aka Contorted Witchhazel. After enjoying the twisted limbs so exposed throughout the winter, I am just entranced by its chandelier-like catkins. Down below is the blossom tree mentioned in my last post. I know it isn't a cherry and the blossoms aren't the same as the apricot tree close by but according to some, it is the finest blossom tree in the neighbourhood and that's good enough for me. I wish I'd thought to take a shot a day as the blossoms began to emerge and then I could've cut together a cute little psuedo time lapse piece...how totally tech would that have been! Coulda, woulda, shoulda, well it'll have to wait 'til next year. I just love the pink against the blue sky and with the winds we've been experiencing, it's a little like confetti at an Indian wedding.

The distance between 2 points...

Spring is making its way up the hill and our Magic Garden is just starting to put on a show - I promise my next entry will be all blossom shots, total garden porn in this part of the world. My right-hand-next-door-neighbour told me yesterday that she considers one of my trees to be the finest blossom tree in the neighbourhood and although all I did was buy the house that had the tree, I am still hugging these words close to my chest!

On both sides, we have the most lovely neighbours who are in different ways, rather expert gardeners. This is honestly rather intimidating, which explains I guess why the comment above has gone straight to the pool room. The shot above however, is on the left-hand-next-door neighbours side and it shows the one gaping hole in a fairly private boundary. On the right, there is the amazing white Camellia you can see from the kitchen window and on the left, a jumble of Rhodo, Camellia and some other horribly invasive green thing which shan't last the summer. The hammock you can see behind the Cotoneastor highlights the problem; it looks like such a delighful place to relax but it looks right into the main area off the back of our house. And to be honest, whilst I am thrilled with both sets of neighbours, I don't want to feel like we have to constantly acknowledge each other, or worse, not use the space when the other is enjoying their own backyard. After much deliberation, it was concluded that a hedge is the only solution...

Happily, this necessitated a trip to one of my favourite places, Windy Hill Nursery on the outskirts of Bathurst. I'm not sure whether I am kidding myself or not but for buying in bulk, I feel sure that Windy Hill is the most reasonably priced nursery in the area. Hopefully, their prices do actually offset the amount of petrol used to get there! My main criteria for the hedging plants was that they should be fast growing and not be Photinas or Pittosporum. I would have loved to go with a row of Gardenia but there are temperamental little darlings and I really need more vigour in this instance. So I have chosen, the Escallonia Macrantha Rubra, chiefly because it states it is "fast growing" and is "frost tolerant". Also, I like the fact that the scale of the foliage and flower heads are quite different to the plants on other side.

Apparently, the Escallonia should reach heights between 3 and 4 metres. This seems laughable now, considering just how tiny they are. But at $12 bucks a pop, more instant gratification would have been vastly more expensive and when I do break the buying embargo, I need to be on my best behaviour. Plus, if I am going to lash out, I want it to be on a statement piece that I really can't live without...whether it's plants or fashion, the same principles of investment buying apply!

We have a long way to go...

Afternoon Delight

Yesterday, I spent a very pleasant afternoon pottering around Magic Garden and in the process, picked this lovely bunch of daffodils. Apologies, as the shot is truly appalling but they are definately brightening up a dark corner of my living room and I just wanted to share!

Part of the reason I am so chuffed, is that it was the day after an annual knees up, hosted by some very dear friends and if I wasn't with child, I'd have almost certainly been feeling very sorry for myself indeed. Instead, I was tucked up in bed at a very civillised hour and awoke to enjoy a child free day, tidying up all sorts of loose ends and feeling very self congratulatory in the sunshine...until I discovered that insult has been added to the injury my citrus has already suffered. The dreaded Citrus Wasp has taken up residence below the graft and I've been so consumed by frost guilt that I hadn't looked closely enough to notice this horror. Oh Joseph Conrad, the horror! After I'd scraped off the gall, I could clearly see the heart of darkness and then to add insult to injury, the wasp larvae poked its head out. And for some reason, I couldn't quite bring myself to yank the bastard out. What was I worried about? Hurting it? Jesus, toughen up, lady gardener!

But to end on a bright note, a big hullo to my 3 followers out there in the ether...you've remade my day, thank you X k

Views from my kitchen...

Our Magic Garden is a riot of rhododendrons, azaleas and all 3 species of camellia. Just outside my kitchen window, I have been watching some sasanquas and eagerly awaiting the buds to pop into bloom. Here is the very first! A lovely cream with rippling, blushes of pink. Its bush is somewhat straggly and though my probation continues, I am itching for all danger of frost to clear so I can get into shaping it better. These plants are right on the fence line and have the potential to be rather magnificent screening elements. However, the bush behind the letter F is in fabulous shape and it amazes how different 2 plants in such close proximity can be... why is it so?

A visit from Jack

Image courtesy of Gardening Australia*

When my family first moved back from Indonesia, it was mid-winter and freezing. I started year one and was introduced to the mythical character of Jack Frost. After especially cold nights, our teacher would exclaim that Jack Frost had been out again. Jakarta had been all about balmy humidity broken up by ferocious thunder storms so I had absolutely no concept of frost and it took me a rather long time to work out who and what Jack Frost was. As the new girl at school, I was too self-conscious to ask! As far as inhibitions go, I am so glad I've gotten over the the fear of asking the seemingly silly question. A quick check with all things Wiki, reveals that as you'd imagine, Jack Frost hails from English/Germanic folklore and is said to personify the crisp, still conditions that can devastate one's garden.

Having been fluttering about in Maui over the last couple of weeks - it's hard not to act like a tropical butterfly in that part of the world, this frost flashback was prompted by the very rude (though not unexpected) conditions that awaited upon our return. The worst frost in 60years, the headlines trumpeted! And though I got out about, hose in hand watering off the worst of it, sadly, I have a horrible casualty on my hands. The Clementine my sister gave my daughter for her first Christmas is downright decimated and I'm not sure I can pull it back from the edge.




In looking into the situation, I've realised that I've already done the wrong thing: my first instinct was to give the plant a light prune. However, the very act of pruning stimulates new growth, so I really should have waited until Jack had well and truly left the building so as not to jeopardise that process. Additionally, I've now removed any protection the dead wood was affording the fledgling green shoots beneath. Curse my itch to fix! I really should be placed on pruning probation. But prune in haste, repent with the weather! Hopefully spring will bring some healthy green nodes and I can make it up to the patient with a new pot and some potent new soil. In the meantime, the Clementine has been placed in the most sheltered spot I can find and I am trying to tempt her with cocktails of worm juice.

For the amateur meterologists out there (professionals, please feel free to weigh in!), frosts occur when the temperature drops below zero and the sky is clear of clouds. If there is no wind, any water in the air will expand and become ice on contact with cold surfaces. On a celluar level what this means is that whole structures rupture and so the plant itself struggles to survive, especially if the conditions are repeated and some idiot has given you an unflattering haircut.

I can't even c'est la vie myself out of this one.

*My frost photos really sucked!