Friday, June 1, 2012

A grey day




Today I can't see the mountain. Cold, steel-grey clouds hover in front of her, shrinking my view to next doors ugly shed, and making the Stringybark trees at the top of our hill look like scrawny, menacing ghosts with afros.

The wind isn't strong, but it still drives the incessant drizzle under the hood of my raincoat and into my eyes. I can't feel my fingers but there are hundreds of tiny greens and flowers yet to be picked. Trouble is, many of the flowers we're meant to be gathering have been damaged by the rain, and slugs have been feasting on the greens. But we can't stop, the order has to be picked before it's time to meet the school bus.

The crosne we'd nurtured all summer, and had been counting on as a big autumn crop, were mostly eaten by mice, this after our potatoes were terribly affected by blight and what was meant to be a good source of cash flow for the garden, and a staple food for our family, was reduced to a few tubers we had to scrounge from the earth. Some expensive lucerne I'd bought for mulch was laden with weedy grass seeds turning every bed I'd mulched into a nightmare. I'm struggling to work out how I can look after the garden and nursery plants, harvest, pack and deliver, run market stalls, do the book work and take care of the family.

Days like this I think really hard about what I'm doing, why I'm doing it, if I should be doing it at all, or just find a nice cosy, warm salon and start cutting hair again.....

Is my concept of a small garden that feeds my family and a few others, and is a testing ground for unusual crops, a mistake? Is it possible for us to turn 5 acres of less than ideal soil into a business, while sticking to my perhaps impossible, idealistic gardening philosophies? Things get quiet in winter too, people aren't as keen to be gardening, and we are grateful for the hardy souls who brave the weather to come to market.

All of these worries weigh me down on the cold, grey, dreary days.

But then then cloud lifts and our majestic mountain reveals herself. And if we're really lucky she'll be wearing a veil of snow.

And the worry lifts from my shoulders.




I met last week with a woman who has a food growing, community building vision, and the incredible insight and energy she needs to implement it. I spoke with another friend who is off to tour food growing farms and gardens in the States and offer her labour in exchange for experience. I am surrounded by encouraging friends and family, incredible fellow stallholders and customers (and a lot of wonderful friends in the virtual worlds of twitter, facebook and instagram). I really believe that we can achieve something here, albeit more slowly than we'd like, and perhaps with some compromises.

I don't want machines on our land. I won't use poison on slugs or rats. I dream of growing grain to feed our chickens rather than feeding them with sacks of stuff from who knows where, so that I can take our glorious weed fed eggs to market on a regular basis. I want more people and less machines to grow good food with minimal inputs. I want to experiment with crops to find those that produce delicious, appetizing food while resisting pests and diseases and requiring minimal water and nutrient. I want to collect and grow weird, fantastical, exciting edible plants and watch brilliant chefs weave magic with them. I want to be in a position to employ like minded people for a good wage, and to learn with them.

Some days it all seems too hard, but then I think of the menacing smells of peroxide and hairspray, do a kale tasting with my four year old in the garden, while the seven year old steals carrots, wipes them on her clothes and eats them on the spot, and feel I thankful at how life has evolved.









13 comments:

  1. Paulette you are an INSPIRATION.
    I thank goodness for people like you every day.
    x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Ruth, may we continue to inspire one another! xx

      Delete
  2. It's not all unalloyed joy in the garden, but it is real. Philosophies are challenged, viewpoints evolve. I find gardening gives me a profound respect for all the people, past and present facing the same challenges. I consider myself fortunate to be able to explore the possibilities of new crops, new growing techniques; many others live so precarious an existence that this option is not open to them.
    Have you thought about naked oats for the chooks?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wish I had your eloquence Owen. We are so lucky to be able to treat our gardens as hobbies, experiments, as a luxury. When you lose crops, like we did this year, it brings home that precariousness you mentioned.

      We are in an enviable position of being surrounded by good, affordable food in Tasmania. The difficulty we face is making the garden economically viable so that we can pursue our ideals (and have our fun!) without going under. Idealistic me sees gardens like ours as antidotes to the detachment from food that leads to so much waste in the first world. There is also an image some hold of us as roaming round surrounded by robins and rainbows, when often we are confused, deluded, cold and wet... But living here, doing this is so beautiful I will tolerate chilblains, battle mice and shovel as much poo as necessary to make it work.
      Our oca has been through a gentle frost and I'll be harvesting the main crop this week, I think our quarantine has relaxed a little, I'll be looking for named varieties from the mainland soon! And the Tigridia. :) I've got 'Nepalese Hull-less' oats, just no ground to put them in...

      Delete
  3. Australia needs you Paulette!
    You bring mystery, beauty and wonder to glorious plant food.
    I'm constantly in awe and would be first at your stall, if I was in Tassie-mania.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Australia needs you Sharon!! I was just at Colesworths looking for some theraputic icecream, when I saw that they are replacing Maggie Beer's stuff with their own brand in identical packaging to hers. CRAPTASTIC indeed. We can all fight from our own corners :)

      Delete
  4. Wonderful, Paulette! Such beautifully composed pictures and poetic words. It does sound tough,though! But I'm full of admiration.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I bet you've lost feeling in your fingers many times Marion in pursuit of your passion! I admire you as well, and I seriously envy your skills. I hope you recover from the cribbage disappointment soon. ;)

      Delete
  5. This is the first time I've jumped on your blog after admiring you on Instagram for a very long time. All I can say is WOW!!! You are amazing & inspirational. The world is better having people like you in it xx

    ReplyDelete
  6. Paulette, that's beautiful. I look up to you and what you do. What you have created (and continue to create) encourages me to take that kind of leap of faith and work with what I love. Thanks for that.I look forward to visiting your garden sometime when I return - what a place of nourishment, beauty and education! It's what you made.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Paulette,


    Your gorgeous wasabi plant, that I brought back with me from our Tassie holiday earlier in the year, is thriving....and my family wouldn't know what the fresh leaves tasted like without you and your fabulous work. We are eagerly waiting to taste fresh wasabi in 12 months or so. So very, very grateful to you!

    Beautiful pictures and words as always. Inspiring!

    Ms Nada

    ReplyDelete
  8. Paulette - you can always come back to the nice, warm nursery rather than heading back to the salon... John

    ReplyDelete