New lens

Monday, after an aborted attempt to be at work, I was peering at my plants (in order to feel better). I noticed that not only had my pea plants shot up significantly (weird that I didn't notice this before) but that little bud-like things were appearing. As soon as I saw this I realised I couldn't put off buying the macro lens for my camera any longer. I marched straight inside, got dressed, got into the car and drove to Bunbury (40mins away) and bought a lens. Then, for good measure I went to Officeworks and got the computer I've been trying to order off the net but that hasn't yet worked out for various *very* boring reasons. Came home in debt, not happier, but with new toys.

I ran around taking shots with the lens first and realised that I really needed to spend some time practising with it, but got at least a semi-decent shot of the shoot that inspired it all:



And, yes, I'm aware that buying these things may very well be a sign of depression, but I'm embracing it, and I have new toys. Plus, I went to the doctor and got some drugs yesterday. Back to work today...feel...more normalish.

Eggplant and Pepino

At the local market today I discovered a pepino plant. I'd never heard of one before. It had three yellow balls of fruit (a little bigger than a golf ball) with purple stripes running down them. It was $3.50 and the guy said they taste like a rockmelon (I don't like rockmelon) and were ripe and ready to be eaten. So I bought it.

I also bought an eggplant with a fruit already on it.




When I got home I pulled the ripest, largest pepino off the plant, cut it, peeled it and ate it. It was sweeter than a rockmelon and, I thought, nicer. It had the texture and colour of mango flesh. I looked it up in a few books I have and discovered that if I could manage to produce a large crop I could make pepino and strawberry jam, or that I could serve it fresh in a fruit salad or with cheese. Yum.

The eggplant is exciting too - I'm not sure my eggplant seeds are going to grow and anyway it will be at least a year before they yield anything, so a small plant with a small fruit on it and others on the way is a good idea. Can't wait to eat that too.

Book Review: Trail of Crumbs

Trail of Crumbs: hunger, love, and the search for home, by Kim Sunee was a surprise. Usually books with recipies turn me off - I find recipies difficult to read because I can't visualise what the dish will look like, let alone taste like (this is my issue, of course) and they seem random and often get in the way of the story. But Sunee has weaved the recipies into the story. They are at the end of all but the most traumatic (for her) chapters and were so much a part of the story that I read them with delight, often almost able to taste the dish. Often the recipies are the dishes she has served during the chapter and range from fancy french, simple Korean to lazy pasta and intricate southern dishes.

Once I got over this issue - by the first chapter's recipie of 'wild peaches poached in lillet blanc and lemon verbena' - I fell into her story easily. Born in Korea and left by her mother in a marketplace at three, then adopted to an American family, she grew up in New Orleans, learning to cook from her grandfather. Unable to feel she belonged anywhere she drifted around Europe until, at 25, she met and fell in love with Olivier - the founder of L'Occitane - and became responsible for his house in Provence, including the gardens and, especially, the kitchen, and for entertaining his wide circle of friends while juggling the demands of his young daughter. As she comes to the realisation that she doesn't belong in that world either, she struggles to escape and find her own place.

Kim Sunee examines the dishes she serves as closely as the emotions she can't control and the links between them are palpable. Her long journey back to herself is haunting - some of the book seems to swim past in waves of emotion - but ultimately there is a sense of hope that she may yet find her home.

This is a lovely book, I read it in a weekend and would recommend it to anyone who is aware they are searching for something that is missing - Kim's story is incredible and uplifting and on occassion horrifying.

Warm, bitter, beautiful

"Together we stooped to pick up fallen wild peaches. Blood peaches. It was the first time I had ever seen a wild peach. I held one up to the light, broke it in two to study the scarlet veins running through the flesh." - Kim Sunee, Trail of Crumbs.

The idea of plucking something from a plant and popping it into my mouth is very alien, scary even. I have a long held fear of poisonous plants from my mum's paranoia over a large bush with red berries that grew in our garden. I find it sad that I've grown up to believe that food is not food until it has arrived at a shop, gone into a plastic bag, been paid for and brought home. When I was reading Trail of Crumbs it was her descriptions of the wild fruits and freshly grown produce that really captivated me. Could you actually bite into a peach picked up from beneath its tree? What a wonderful idea! It seems romantic, natural and strange all at the same time.

Today, however, I ate something straight from the bush. It was a gooseberry. I did some research and some sources indicated that the berry was green and as I was looking at the plant today (on my twice daily visit to all of them) I thought I might try one and see if they were ripe and, perhaps, if they were, in fact, edible. I pulled open the soft little pod that are like intricate tear-shaped balloons and pulled the little green ball out. It was a little bitter, but not much, it was warm from the sun, it tasted like a berry and I didn't die. It was liberating, in fact. Exciting even.

I also realised that I have seen this plant before. It grew at the little farm in Sweden where I housesat one winter for six weeks. The little pods captivated me then, brown and dry and covered in snow and I wondered what on earth this charming little plant was, never believing that I'd know, let alone have one growning in my garden. It feels reassuring - it is a gentle reminder of one of the very best times in my life. Exactly the sort of thing I need right now.


Green gooseberries in my garden


Dry gooseberries in Sweden before the snow


Snowy gooseberries in Sweden waiting for the spring

Planting my way out of misery

A bit dramatic, I know, but I am miserable, generally, and I am planting. I hope that somehow the meshing of those two things will lead to goodness, light, happiness...I said, hoping.

Anyway, I think I will try to now turn this blog into a place where I can record my attempts at feeding myself. This means I will be able to record my successes and failures in this change I'm attempting (and I really must remember that I am, above all, attempting a change and that that in itself can be...well, difficult and stop beating myself up about the way I feel).

I started planting last weekend. Down at Bunnings (the only nursery here that I can find) I bought a whole lot of seed packeds - which I knew at the time was the wrong thing to do, but didn't know how to find out what the right thing was! - and potting mix (well, I attempted to buy potting mix, I mean, that is what I intended to buy but came home with 'garden soil' which, I suppose is different somehow - it looks different - chalk that up to serious mistake number one), and some long planters with fancy 'self watering' thingys in the bottom which I doubt do anything that a few rocks wouldn't do, but as I don't have rocks in this place.... I then had a merry time putting soil into planters and emptying seed packets into soil. I found out later that I could have saved some of the seeds. But it was fun.

I also bought some little broccoli plants and some bean plants. I planted the broccoli into the garden bed near the existing spinach (yuk!) and the beans into a planter with a trellis to grow onto. I also, against my better judgement, bought a little all-you-need thing for tomatoes. Now, even I with my limited knowledge of vegetable growing know there is something about being able to grow tomatoes - it is not as easy as tipping in soil and wacking a few seeds in. Still, the little pot it came in was a cute bright red and, hey, I'm learning. The tomatoes plants have not poked their heads up yet - are they just teasing or will it really be a total waste of money?

I also planted into 'seed starter' (as far as I can tell, special nutrient rich soil) capsicum and eggplant in a mini-greenhouse. This is a plastic box with a lid and four punnets of eight thingys (you can imagine I'm sure). It has instructions on the side that says, basically, put the seeds in and close. So I did that too.

I didn't actually have to wait long. By Thursday there were little herbs poking their bright green heads up (not sure which ones as I don't remember where I planted anything - they're herbs, it will be obvious at some point I assume) and in my mini-greenhouse the capsicum has shot up impressively. It has been exciting to watch these things happen.

Today, I went back to Bunnings, again, against my better judgement, in search of fruiting trees. Now, it might seem a leap to go from herbs to an apple tree, but I have a book that is very reassuring and inspiring and I decided that the only way I was going to learn was to just go for it. I bought an apple tree, a lemon tree, a lime tree and a gooseberry bush (it was just there, all on its own and I couldn't leave it behind).

I also found a local market on the way and bought (and I was much happier about these purchases) a strawberry plant, a bell pepper plant (with 'fruit' already on it) and a small rosemary bush.

This afternoon I planted the lemon and apple trees and the gooseberry. The gooseberry has pods on it that contain the berries. I opened one, but they are still green. It seems like the completely wrong season for them to be growing so they'll either ripen up in what's left of the early autumn heat of they won't, I guess. I'd like to taste one though - I've never had one. All the plants look very new and spiffy in their pots (yes, you can grow them in pots!). I also put the bell pepper inside (it likes the warm) and made a list of other things I need. I'll get those tomorrow and plant the lime.

I think I'll finish there, there is more to tell, but that can wait.

culture shock

I wasn't prepared for the shock of arrival at the place I'd planned for, dreamed of and struggled to get to. After packing and cleaning the house in Ballarat - stuff of nightmares and to raw and horrible to describe - and an aborted start to the drive, leaving Tom on the street in Adelaide and dashing with Dad across the continent in three days, the unease of Perth and the shopping for furniture, all of it came with me when I arrived here and undid me.

Looked at objectively this house, while on the highway and noisy, is cool, clean, small, within strolling distance of the beach, a perfect ‘Bess’ backyard and very little to do to maintain it all. But when I walked in here I was utterly traumatised by everything that had happened and had the strongest urge to flee as I’ve ever had. I was on my own and I just had to calm myself down, find the positives here and concentrate on them. But I wasn’t really able to feel okay about it all until Bess and I walked down to the beach that evening. The walk is along a tree-lined road, past well maintained houses whose reticulation sprinkles the footpath. At the end of the road is a parking area with a clean toilet block and a boat launch straight onto the beach. The beach – on the shores of Geographe Bay – is calm and warm. The water laps gently against the white sand and that first night, the almost-full moon was rising over the water. I walked east along the beach first, Bess in the water hoping a ball would miraculously appear, then when I turned back westward the fishermen were silhouetted against the setting sun. I was overwhelmed by how stunning it all was, how tranquil and relaxed, how much it felt like a holiday place. I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that I will live within bare feet walking distance from all this for at least 12 months, will get to see it in all weather and time of day. I haven’t taken my camera down there yet – like perhaps if I start sharing it, it will cease to be so beautiful – but I think I might tonight. I find myself looking at the clock, waiting for that magic time of the evening, but actually now I think about it, I can go anytime and then go again.

Today, for the first time on my own, I took Bess around to Dunsborough – some 15kms around the bay. We found an almost deserted swimming spot and dipped into the warm water – a lovely temperature from the heat of the day. I didn’t even have a towel; just air dried a bit then drove home. I ate biscuits and dip in my bathers on the back patio with a sandalwood stick wafting over me. Is this my life now?

…later

I did take my camera down to the beach and ended up getting there just after the sun went down. I knew a huge moon had to be rising at some point but all was dark on the eastern horizon. I took some photos (below), walked along and then gave up and turned back. Halfway back something made me turn and I was just in time to see the pregnant-orange moon plop over the horizon and swim above the faint lights of Bunbury. It was huge and dominating but silent and serene at the same time. I stood and watched it but it was also getting dark and I had to make it back along the beach and then home so we left. And now I’m home again – my first night on my own and it seems I’m going to have to get used to that again.

Home Stretch

Things got a bit hectic, but I am now living in a furniture-less house, devoid of most appliances, belongings and - most annoyingly - chairs. I'm sleeping on my camp mattress in my room with just my clock radio to wake me up three times for these last days of school. There are camping things around waiting to be packed into the car and the kitchen is still functional but that's about it. Oh, the TV is still there as it is going to Melbourne next week.

I'm thoroughly sick of dealing with STUFF though. Everything individual thing in my house had to be picked up and decided upon - bin, garage sale, give away, Vinnies, take in car, put in box.... - I had a moment the other day while throwing things in the skip of sheer hatred for all these things, possessions I don't even remember deciding to get - many things I never bought and just inherited when others couldn't work out what to do with them. The wasted time, expense and effort of buying these things is mindblowing and I'm determined to have a minimalist lifestyle in which if something is not reguarly used or admired it goes. If someone gives me something that I don't want I will just thank them and then get rid of it, knowing that the thought was there somewhere.

Currently I'm waiting at school for the boyfriend to bring the last of the furniture - a couch and two sofa chairs - here for the Year 12 common room, and then that will be it. Oh no, actually I have to ring Vinnies again to get them to come and get the wardrobe that was left behind on the last pickup. THEN I will be done with stuff. Or at least until I have to get rid of all the excess plates, glasses and pots and pans in the kitchen. THEN I'll be done. Then I'll be gone too.

Hooray.