I cannot recall with clarity a time before we had her. Now, our little bundle is one year old! Hopelessly smitten, we orbit around our bright star, warmed by every cheeky smile.
The phrase “they grow up so fast” seems programmed into our DNA. Misty eyed, it springs to our lips in all its hackneyed glory, unbidden, but undeniably true. The last year is a blur and I sometimes look at her newborn photos, unable to reconcile the tiny inert little butterball with the smiling, pointing, laughing little girl who terrorises every bookshelf she meets and charms everyone in her path. What a treat to be your parents, our darling Ember Wren.
We gave her special toys for “Plastic Free July”. The preloved wooden toys have special significance because they were made by my maternal grandfather. We also found a beautifully illustrated book called “Time for bed, Miyuki” and “Little People, BIG DREAMS” learning cards. Both are from The School of Life, a bookshop stocking everything you wished you had learned in school, what a great premise. We stumbled upon it by chance, on a rainy day, jazz soundtrack on and complimentary peppermint tea provided. This is why brick and mortar bookshops are still relevant, a warm, comforting place, to disappear into for an hour or two.
We walked to the garden and met baby friend Alba on the way. We had brief fun with the garden group friends until the heavens opened, but what is a birthday without huddling in a tool shed as raindrops are devoured by thirsty soil?
Lunch with dad in the city. Both wearing matching lumberjack plaid shirts.
A summer baby myself, a wintry birthday is a new creative challenge. However, I found if you venture into the wind and showers there is immense reward in the patches of glorious sunlight that honour the brave. We enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, just the two of us, in the Royal Botanic Gardens.
Special moments, running wild, getting sandy and twirling around and around on the grass laughing. No clocks, no screens, just lengthening shadows as we enjoyed every last moment of our present.
Ember made a friend on the train. A kind woman who she bonded with whilst sardined between the commuters. They played “high five” and the woman told Ember she’d see her again next year on her birthday, same date, same time. A cute connection to close up a special day.
I’m taking the time while I have Dylan around to shake off the thick layer of digital dust my photo archive has been gathering. I have so many moments to share it’s hard to pick what to tick off first.
Baby is in a feather light sleep next to me which involves a lot of dummy sucking and arm flailing, but let’s see if I can finally post these photos of what was happening in the food forest as spring turned to summer. Today a scorching hot day, so I imagine it will look a lot different when we next visit. So glad we have a watering system!
Things were too hectic with the new baby to capture the apple blossom in all its powder pink glory, but we were organised enough this year to net the apricot and peach against fruit fly and the red apple against the birds. The billowing white nets are actually quite beautiful in a way, they float above the thick carpet of yarrow like a mist of benign ghosts.
Last year the feijoa had its first two, maybe three flowers. Now it is covered in red Christmas bauble blossoms. The jar of parsley seeds I saved from home and lazily broadcast months ago has also come good. The umbels are beautiful under the trees and promise we will have parsley this coming year too without having to resow. The nasturtiums and pepinos had withered in the late frosts, but their massive amount of regrowth following has smothered all competitors.
The food forest was looking a bit grim in November and I thought it just couldn’t cope without my attention, which had been elsewhere while I was pregnant. Turns out all it needed was a good water after a dry winter and a broken timer on the watering system. Drip irrigation operational and some heavy downpours saw the food forest lush and green in a matter of weeks. The weeds also awakened though and we had to do quite a lot of grass pulling.
The silvanberry fruit are ripening and unlike the thornless bramble we have at home birds seem less willing to grasp their stems to feast.
This year there is an immense sense of achievement in the community garden. The transformation over winter was stunning and now the raised gardens are overflowing with verdant growth. After the long winter the joys of rummaging through the prickly leaves of zucchini to find succulent fingers of fruit evoke a chorus of memories of happy summer’s days both lived and locked away in our genetic memory. It’s pure ecstacy of spirit. A feeling I hope Ember will enjoy one day.
We celebrated with a morning tea and it really showcased the cooking talents of the group. Sarah impressed with homemade lavosh created with a pasta machine, which I can’t wait to try making myself.
Ember sported the turmeric and marigold dyed cardigan that I started before she was born and almost didn’t finish in time to fit her. It paired nicely with the pink cosmos which I think have become the unofficial emblematic flower of summer in the community garden.
After all the hard work we put in we can now look forward to leisurely years of planting and harvesting, grass free and water secure.
No time to obsess over paint swatches for the nursery, my nesting was all about gardening.
Normally winter hits me hard. It’s cold, it’s dull and leaving work when the street lights are lit, deflates what little spirit is left in me. The weather is not conducive to plant growth or a sunny disposition. This winter was different though. Perhaps the promise of our little babe softened its chill. Definitely the addition of a bedroom heater made mornings a little less spartan; the outrageous power bill was a problem for spring me to deal with. Of course, those frigid days make it the perfect time to plan and prepare the garden for the spring. However my activities were limited as our baby rapidly cycled through the fruits and vegetables from poppy-seed towards watermelon. By the time she hit cantaloupe size I had great empathy for hedgehog “trying to get out of bread”. I was able to do the dreaming, but needed to call in some physical philanthropists to do the doing.
Time was running out before I popped and I feared, quite justifiably it turns out that after she was born I wouldn’t have time to get anything done. Less than a month before giving birth, saw me join the rosy-cheeked group of permablitz volunteers to completely renovate the Farnham St Community Garden.
The design
Key features
5 seat height wicking beds
5 standing height wicking beds
2 large communal garden beds with drip irrigation
4 reused corrugated metal garden beds
Mulch paths
Existing features
Adjacent to neighbourhood house, food forest and playground
Water tanks connected to roof
Worm farms
Hot compost bays made from recycled pallets
Compost bins
The Problem
The garden had a lot of heart, but only the hardiest gardeners ever stuck it long enough to see multiple summers. When our little one starts toddling I want her to have a beautiful space to learn about growing food, surrounded by a passionate community. We needed to reinvigorate the garden to attract and keep the young professionals and families who to this point found the upkeep too hard. Accessibility needed to be improves as well for the stalwarts who have kept it running. It had to be a joy to maintain not a chore.
The existing garden was shaded and sucked dry by the towering eucalypt. It demanded a twice weekly watering roster in the summer holidays when everyone would rather be relaxing at the beach. The low sleeper beds with their narrow paths between also excluded people with back issues or disabilities from enjoying the garden. We warred a hopeless battle against Kikuyu grass which was continuously invading and pillaging nutrients from the gardens, it was hard, demoralising work.
The Plan
The invasive grass needed to be completely removed. We suggested it be replaced with mulch paths that could manage the water over flow from the garden beds. Near the gum tree, raised wicking beds in two different sizes were custom-made by MODbox to suit our geometric design. These beds will only require fortnightly filling of their water reservoirs once plants are established. The layout is as aesthetically pleasing as it is functional. The paths are wide enough for a wheel barrow and even a pram, something I never would have thought about before being pregnant. I am really grateful for this now!
The tops of the beds are capped to allow them to double as seats with sustainably harvested cypress used instead of merbau on special request. The L shaped border beds will be connected to the food forest’s drip irrigation system. This is where we will grow communal crops that can be harvested for use in the houses’ cooking classes. Hopefully soon the less than charming chain link fence will be covered with lush pumpkin vines, ripe strawberries dripping over the edge to be plucked by little hands.
It is exciting to have the opportunity to breath new life into the garden. All this was made possible by the tenacity of Pip from FSNLC who had the unglamorous task of securing grants. Let’s hope that this new garden will encourage more community members to invest some time into the garden.
The Permablitz
Every great cause needs a tireless leader. Pat made sure the day was a success, not only by facilitating the permablitz, but spending weeks beforehand coordinating: the deconstruction of the existing garden, re-use of resources and the inevitable mountains of gravel, sand and soil that wicking beds require. Besides, it is no mean feat to keep a motley crew of blitzers happy, hydrated, sated and on schedule!
The MODboxes arrived on pallets and once we got our head around the instructions it was great fun putting the beds together, like adult lego! We were lucky to have some tradies attend, and they were good-natured enough to let us bully them into setting out all the beds to make sure they were level. The layout is the moment when installations by volunteers can veer from wonky charm into a hot mess. I’m not going to lie, having some experts involved took the pressure off considerably. We could confidently leave them to work away while we instructed the other volunteers to build up the layers. By the end of the day it looked amazing, leaving us itching to get planting.
It is always astounding the amount of work blitzers can accomplish in a day, that magic moment when a sketch becomes a reality. By lunchtime it always feels like you will be left with piles of unmoved soil. Then suddenly, perhaps reinvigorated by lunch, the crew shovels, and barrows and the garden in transformed. How beautiful to have such a fantastic bunch of people sacrifice their weekend to make this happen.
Removing grass and levelling ground
Slotting timbers together to form base
Building up the layers
Attaching the liner Installing the overflow
Checking depth of gravel reservoir Food grade liner Geofabric and fill with soil
Adding the capping
Planting the communal beds with salvaged strawberries
