Christmas times are over but, in the Southern Hemisphere, the sun is shining on most days and holiday and summer festivities are still with us. Extravagant theatre experiences are taking place in Tasmania's wonderful botanical gardens and may be attended by us and our many tourists. On the beautiful, blue and wide River Derwent on whose shores the Hobartians have settled, yachts, of all classes, may be seen scurrying in the sea breezes. Birds flock to our gardens, sipping honey and waiting for the berries that are ripening on the ornamental trees. Our lawns are turning to straw colour but being environmental minded we save water and pretend we like them that way and be thankful that the weekly task of 'mowing the lawns' may be forgotten for a few short weeks.
And Kees and I are pulling out our hair because we cannot stop our gardens growing, growing and growing. I have had to take the desperate action and order the removal of some shrubs or trees. I started giving these desperate orders to pull them out or chop off their heads, last week. We only visit the country garden three days in the week and to my horror, in just one week, the remaining planting has rushed with childish glee, to fill the spaces left by the radical steps we are taking. Of course, we [no I should write I] planted too much and too closely. The blame for "too much" may be put squarely on my shoulders, the "too close" on Kees's. But that is the way of the gardening world, share all things, even the blame!
As I picked some globe artichokes for dinner last night, my thoughts turned to the many 'vegetable' plants that are so ornamental they could enhance most gardens. In the country garden we have a large area set aside for peafowl food [vegetables] and some handy fruit trees [for the birds and slugs]. Artichokes, with their beautiful grey leaves and Scotch thistle like flowers, are wonderfully ornamental and are greedy for space but they are left alone by our feathered friends. As I was eating the young artichokes, I had to smile to myself. I was remembering the old family story of my complete refusal to eat any vegetables for several years when I was a very young toddler. According to the myth all I would eat were "Wheeties and doast" [cereal and toast] and finally only was persuaded to try potatoes and home-grown peas. Artichokes never passed by lips until I was a married woman. It was the same with avocado pears, most fish and broad beans. Now, I just love these things. Was it because I learnt how to cook and treat them? Perhaps!
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