Front garden

Blessed to still have all this out there mid-winter. 

Thirty-five days without rain

Ye Olde Nature Strip - my first experiment in all-native plants (though not all indigenous) - has survived, if not thrived, on no rainwater for over a month, and no supplemental water for the entire summer. Not bad, eh?!

Nature strip update

It has been a whole entire year since I last posted anything about my nature strip project! Click here for a picture of what it looked like last time, and for a complete history try here. To refresh your memory (and mine), this council-owned strip of land is hot, windy, very dry, and the 'soil' is compacted clay and dolomite with a roughly neutral pH (despite the dolomite). Before I got my gardener's hands on it, it was a strip of bare gravel with two trees poking out it it (foreground larger tree is Eucalyptus leucoxylon ssp megalocarpa, the large fruited SA blue gum, and the smaller tree further back is probably a weedy malnourished version of the same).
Well, look at this spot now! Starting to come along well and filling out nicely.

 

When I started I just planted 'native plants,' but after the first round of planting (about three years ago) I've only planted indigenous species in here, and ones I hoped would be suitable (obviously... but I know more now and can choose better!) In this picture there are Poa labilliaderi (most of the grasses), Ficinia nodosa (knobby club rush, bottom right), Acacia myrtifolia (dead centre, still small), Enchalaena tomentosa (left by pole), and Goodenia amplexans (clasping goodenia, at left).

This photo is looking at the same patch from the other direction. At the front-left is a non-indigenous grevillea (name escapes me), at front right is a Myporum parvifolium. Barely visible because it blends in so well, behind the grevillea, is the saltbush Atriplex semibaccata, and behind that is all those mentioned before with a better view of the goodenia (now on the right).

This picture shows the other end of the nature strip. It's a bit more bare because that's where we need to put our waste bins on rubbish days. At the far left is the original Juncus ursitatus (not indigenous), behind that is an indigenous Juncus (sarophus?! C'mon, brain, work!), doing surprisingly well despite the harsh conditions. Also in this picture, but much less obvious, is more Myoporum, Enchaleana, and Ficinia, a couple of eremophilas (cultivars and not indigenous species), a bit of dianella which has been struggling along since the beginning, and a little Calytrix tetragona. And some weeds. Oh yes! I improved the soil and the weeds have certainly taken advantage. Most of them are little thistles and dandelions and easily dealt with. A couple of months ago I also removed the biggest weeds in here: several large clumps of gazanias. 'Oh,' said a neighbour, 'but they grow so well!' Yes, indeed! That's one reason they're a weed!

The one major difference I have found between planting native plants in the nature strip, as opposed to in my front garden (behind the fence) is that the plants are growing far more slowly. This would be from a combination of the difficult growing conditions, and receiving far less water over summer. I only toss a few buckets of water about there when it gets really hot.

 And last but not least, a winter-happy for you :) The indigenous Clematis microphylla growing on my front fence and flowering it's head off. Very pretty!

Stay warm xx

Front fence revamp #2

So, the long awaited update! I get there eventually...

When last I posted, I was busy pulling up daggy lamb's ears and some Lomandras I was never happy with, and replacing them with a group of small, native ground covering plants (lots of daisies, plus a few ring-ins). I'm happy to report that most of my new flower patch is doing quite well. We have had a bit of a break in the hot weather recently with milder days and even a little bit of rain and the garden is loving it (as am I). A special mention here to my Helichrysum rutidolepis ('pale everlasting daisy'). It's a local species and classified as Threatened, and apparently it likes it in my front yard - with it's dripper irrigation and thick layer of pea straw mulch - because the few plants I put in have rocketed along, tripling in size in three weeks. Woohoo! Now, if only the rest of the plants would do the same thing...

Photo #1: Long shot of the front yard. The 'gap' at the front is actually a transplanted Poa lab and Scaevola 'mauve clusters,' which are still considering whether or not they are going to join the party.

Photo #2: Helichrysum rutidolepis going gangbusters.

Front fence revamp.

Those lamb's ears? They're doing nothing for me, so out they come, starting today. They're going to be replaced with an all-native flower border (so I'm calling it).

There are a number of little native plants right up again our fence already, including:

Brachyscome multifida var. diliata
B. 'Break O Day'
B. 'Pacific Sun'
Dampiera rosmanifolia
D. dysantha
Laurentia 'blue stars' (annual)
Chrysocephalum apiculatum prostrate form
Ajuga australis
Helichrysum scorpiodes
Wahlenbergia stricta
Billarderia cymosa (climber) and
Clematis microphylla (climber)

Today I'm planting a couple more Brachyscomes, Dampiera diversifolia, Halgania cyanea, Wahlenbergia communis and Helichrysum rutidolepis.

I will add a few more updated photos at the end (as well as a spelling and grammar check, which I can't do on my phone!)

Front path a masterpiece in recycling.

I haven't shown you any renovation pictures in eons, so will skip a discussion of growing eggplant from seed (or rather, a series of complaints about growing eggplant from seed) to show you our front path instead. It's only halfway through, but taking shape beautifully, and so far we've not spent a single cent on it. Bonus!

It starts here: with the porch. Pity I forgot to take a 'before' photo, but never mind. Why demolish the porch? Because it was broken and cracking, and right up against the old weatherboard, which was rotting. As the porch was peeled away, it became clear that the whole thing was damp and pretty terrible for airflow and general building health, so off it goes. We'll replace it with a little deck, we think. And I'm keeping the old iron scroll work pillars, because I like them.

Under those layers of tan-brown tiles, and rusty red stained concrete, there was sand and rock, and lots and lots of it.

 FIL had a flash of inspiration. A while ago, I'd mentioned just chucking a whole heap of paving sand around the 'pavers' I'd salvaged from when we demolished the back patio and have been using as stepping stones to the front gate. FIL thought he could dig up all the sand from the front porch (since he was going to anyway) and use that instead. Brilliant! The garden edging down the left of the path is old hardwood beams we had (although if they're old ones from our house, or ones the neighbour gave us, I can't remember).

 

Right down the back of  the path, behind FIL in this photo, is our new gate, which D has been building in dribs and drabs over the last few weeks to help make our yard a little more toddler-safe. Our gate is actually our old back door, with a recycled hardwood architrave. I think I'll paint it pillar-box red, or yellow. I like yellow, at the moment. We've put a little trellis to the right-hand side to climb plants up and over this space (I have planted roses, the native 'wisteria' Hardenbergia violacea 'Rosea,' and native clematis, Clematis microphylla). For the gardeners, other plants I have in this space - though barely visible at this stage - include the natives Plectranthus argentatus, Plectranthus  parvifolius, Hibbertia aspera, Guichenotia macrantha, and Goodenia amplexans. I've also got lemon balm and nasturtiums in here. This scrap of garden is probably the most challenging spot I've come across so far: it's quite shady, narrow, and not just dry but actually water-repellent. So far I've added loads of compost, manure, and clay to address the issues faced here.

And just for fun, here's a happy snap of the other half of the front garden which I took tonight at my favourite time of day: when the sun is getting low in the sky and shines though my Poas, which swish and shimmy in the breeze. All those roses are going to explode into flower in just a couple of weeks. Last year this happened in November, but some of the buds are splitting open already so I think they might bloom early this year.

And they're in!

Finally, my little plum trees are out of their pots and in the ground. There are six trees in this space: the first four are planted in pairs (a method where you plant two trees in one space and from then on you treat them as one tree, if that makes sense? It's a space saving/variety increasing method). These plants are D'Agen and Coe's Golden Drop in the first pair, and Santa Rosa and Satsuma in the second pair. The next tree along is a Wickson plum, then lastly is a damson plum. Behind all this, but very small, is one of my favourite Australian natives shrubs: Myoporum bateae, which should cope with the shade from the fence really well. Up the back is also some raspberries (both native raspberries, Rubus parvifolius, and an exotic variety, which I got from MIL's garden). Underneath the plums, along the entire wall, are over forty individual strawberry plants, all taken from runners off my older plants (I seem to produce strawberry runners prolifically, rather than the fruit we'd all prefer!). At the very first part of the wall, beside where the steps will be, I've planted a small David Austin English rose: Sophy's Rose. I've even scattered some seeds about: Yates 'Accent on Blue' seed mix, to help bring the pollinators in. That sounds like a lot, now that I write it out! I can hardly wait to see it all start growing and coming together. Next up we're making my raised vegie beds.

We're online!

It's been 2.5 months without real Internet at home, but we're back online at last and I can stop fretting that I will exceed my phone download limit (which I did last month; horrors!)

Overall, this winter seems to have been remarkably mild... or perhaps I'm just coping with the cold and damp better?

As usual, I've had masses going on out in the front garden and the nature strip. This, in particular, is starting to come along quite nicely. It's not the best photo (I promise to start using my real camera again, rather than my phone!), but I hope you'll get the idea of what's going on out there. After realising that since the conditions in the nature strip were so awful (compacted clay overlain with dolomite, blasted by the sun and the wind and passing cars) so nothing was likely to grow very big, I added in a whole lot more plants. All up so far there are just over 50 individual plants out there, all of which are native to Australia (except for the gazanias which I am slowly removing), and the majority are indigenous to my area. The major players are my grasses, which I'm hoping will grow up and spill over and blanket the area. By the way, I have finally had the large tree in the front of the garden identified: It's a large-fruited blue gum (Eucalyptus leucoxylon ssp megalocarpa). I'm told the other, smaller tree in the background might be the same but I remain sceptical. The best news about the nature strip? Not just that plants are alive - if not exactly thriving - but I'm finding worms out there now! Wasteland no longer.


Another project I've got going on is the greening of the driveway, or rather, the strip down the centre of the driveway between the two concrete strips we drive on. It's another tricky area: west-facing, dark in winter and blazing hot in summer, and all the water from the backyard drains through it whenever it rains. Sometimes I think I'm mad. My neighbour certainly seems to think I'm forever gardening, and I'm sure I saw his eyes glaze over when I mentioned native grasses... Natives I've planted down the driveway include Isolepis inundata (a little rush) and Microlaena stipoides ssp stipoides (a little grass). I'm also trying out lawn chamomile, and creeping thyme I grew myself from seed. It took over four months to get as big as you can see here, so it's certainly not a fast grower, at least not during the cooler months.


Onwards and upwards! Spring is coming, and I am going mad for seed sowing in preparation. Will show you that next time.

Mini update #1 and #2

The idea here is to do a series of quick updates over the next few posts, seeing as I don't seem to be able to get to the old blog very often any more (and I haven't been able to read many others, either, sorry everybody! I have been neglecting you, though not intentionally.)

#1 Renovation update:

While we've been pottering along and things are slowly happening, not much of it has been particularly newsworthy. The big news of the day is that our bathroom bits and bobs should be arriving at the end of the week, and all things being even the plumber is going to visit early next week and we'll have an INDOOR TOILET! (I want to hash-tag that #firstworldproblems...), and if he's really on a roll we might even get, like, running water inside and not need to bring it in in buckets anymore. Actually, I lie, D brought home an empty 20L olive oil cask from work and we've been filling that with water. From time to time we've slept over at the house, but the lack of plumbing is terribly inconvenient so we limit it to once or twice a week.

In slightly more photogenic news, I've tried out some samples of paint on the exterior of the house. I wanted to paint it purple or mauve, so we tried it: everybody hated the lavender tone on sight - including me - and although I quite liked the darker purple I was the only one and well outvoted, so I came to my senses and went off the paint shop to look for what I like to call 'dove grey.' I'm not sure if this qualifies as dove grey - suspect that's a matter of opinion - but is IS very pretty, and no one is looking at me like I have two-heads with this colour, this time. (On a side note: I can hardly wait until I can tackle the landscaping in the backyard and stop ignoring the weeds, though Heaven only knows when that will happen.)



Mini Update #2: Microcitrus: for the gardeners.

Back in August last year I bought myself a Fingerlime (Microcitrus australasica). Recently I finally got around to repotting it in a terracotta pot and he's doing quite well so far. In the last 7 or 8 months he's grown perhaps an inch higher and is lovely and healthy. At that time I also bought my first Australian ground orchid, a greenhood Pterostylis curta). And although I don't have any photos yet, I'm happy to report that it has come out of dormancy after the Summer and resprouted from five bulbs. One fell victim to a snail or slug the moment it poked it's green nose out of the sand, but I whipped the rest away to safety and surrounded the new shoots with a protective ring of snail bait (bad greenie, I know!)

The K-Paw project.

For ages and ages I've been blathering on about wanting to plant a sea of kangaroo paws in my front garden. They really do look fabulous when they're planted en masse and are in flower. I did a bit of a search in this blog and found that I'd been talking about seas of kangaroo paws as early as January 2011, and moaning about the cost as the cheapest I'd found them at that point was $8 each. Since them I've found them for less (about $3 each in tubes), but even better -for me, not the general public- is that I could get them from work for even less than that. (I started work at the nursery in July.) Bonus!

I have to make a confession here: I had put myself on a plant-buying ban for February. I didn't succeed on buying no plants at all; what plant addict would? But until the other day all I'd caved in on was an Agonis 'After Dark,' three Nepeta 'Walker's Low' and two irresistibly cheap Philadelphus mexicanus (mock orange). Then, last Monday, I brought home two boxes of babies and three bigger pots.

I had bought 11 yellow- green kangaroo paws in tubes, 13 red kangaroo paws, five Patersonia occidentalis (purple flag iris), and my three larger plants were Anigozanthus 'yellow gem' (an old and proven cultivar and I chose bright yellow in the hope that they'll make my 'yellow-green' flowered plants look yellower than they'll really be). The Patersonia and the K-paws have similar requirements - full sun and fantastic drainage - so I'm hoping they'll grow well together. Basically, I didn't just break my plant ban, I blew it right out of the water.

(Patersonias)

Months ago, I planted half a dozen K paws in the western corner of the front garden, and they've done so well it gives me high hopes for the next batch (they've done so well, in fact, that I think I've planted them too close together!)

(Paws left, Lomadras right, persimmon in background and mad roses behind that)

On Tuesday I was able to plant them all. It was quite a job and took me all afternoon: laying them all out; digging the holes; adding the compost, manure, blood and bone, mycorrhizae tablets, dynamic lifter (k paws are quite heavy feeders so it's best to get them off to a good start).

By the time I'd finished my front garden looked like this:



And best of all? The next day it rained and rained and rained all day, which hasn't happened for months, so I couldn't have asked for better 'settling in' weather for my new babies.

(our state awash... unlike in other states, rain is rarely a problem in SA.)

The photo below is taken from our bedroom window (splattered with raindrops), the design idea was to be able to look down over my see of kangaroo paws which will sweep off out into the garden to the left, framed by the persimmon tree (the stick at the bottom towards the left) and my new crabapple (ltop left in photo, almost invisible) and the Lomandra border on the right.

In a couple of years I hope to have not just a garden with a glorious swathe of kangaroo paws, but to play host to dozens of native birds as well.

xx

Native grasses

I've been digging holes in the nature strip again, scraping away a thick layer of dolomite and removing it, bucket by bucket, and filling the voids with compost and a fertilizer-free coir peat. Underneath the dolomite is clay. I started my nature strip intervention back in January this year because I was sick of looking at gravel and weedy gazanias. This is what it looked like along our fence when I was partway through replacing the dolomite fill in front of it.


The first thing I did was plant native grasses (Poa poiformis, Blue Tussock Grass) at each fence pillar, and thyme seedlings in between, so that it looked like this:


Then, in March, I started planting native plants into the nature strip by the road. And now, as I get digging again, and thinking more clearly about what I want to do out there, I'm inspired by the P. poiformis grasses by the pillars which are in full tall and swaying bloom at the moment. The thyme plants are getting bigger but are nowhere near filling out the space between the grasses yet. The little natives across the paths aren't doing much just yet, but they've only been in for six months and it's a difficult position. Oh, except for the Juncus ursitatus (Common Rush), bottom right, which is standing straight and proud and filling out at the bottom like a man who's eaten too many donuts. The gazanias will have to go. My neighbour told me they were nice the other day, so she might be a wee bit disappointed when I pull them up, but I did tell her, politely, that they were a 'bit weedy.' For the time being they are only remaining because they stop any other weeds from growing there. Mind you, the only stuff that seems to grow in that dolomite is self-seeded gazanias...


I did go a little bit gung-ho on the nature strip takeover to begin with, and now that I sit back and look at it I'm getting a few more ideas and a little bit more of a clearer picture of what I'd like. From now on, I'm putting in mostly indigenous plants out there (as opposed to just 'native') and I think I'd like lots of grasses in there, and rushes: Baumea, Baloskion, Juncus, Danthonia and Austrostipa. All waving in the breeze at passing cars and a bit ephemeral. And I'd like to plant all those little forgotten understory heathy and shrubby things I love. I already have a few from work, waiting for me to get them into the ground: Astroloma, Scaevola, groundcovering Correa and Myoporum. As much as I am looking forward to our holiday, I almost wish it wasn't in Spring because I want to be out there and digging.

Hey, Spike!

I caved in today. I bought more plants from work.

Introducing my brand new, virulent green, native finger lime, Microcitrus australasica. He'd fit into the palm of my hand at the moment, not that I'd want to hold him with all those thorns. One website I've read called him 'delicate,' and I thought, what is so delicate about a plant with more thorns than leaves? Actually, he's quite cute when he's so petite - those leaves are only 5mm long at most - and I'll keep him in a pot so that his future-fruits are easily accessible. This wee lime is a native of the east and northern rainforests of Australia, and I'm told - by my new work-plant-gurus - that he'll do quite well if I treat him as per a normal citrus (IE good drainage, lots of fertiliser) and I don't have to put him in native potting mix or anything. However, he's a very slow grower and it might be some time before we see any fruit on him.


I also bought... drum roll please... a little Pterostylis curta, or blunt greenhood. In years to come I'm hoping that it will multiply to look like this. We have some display pots at work that look like that, full full full of flowers and leaves: amazing, spectacular, and every other adjective you can think of. Customers see those pots and say, 'is that real?' Greenhoods are relatively tough for orchids, and so are good ones for a newbie; it's just lucky that it happens to be a favourite of mine. It's also indigenous to my local area, which is always a plus.


Last but not least, a couple of progress photos of all the seeds I sowed the other day. Predictably, the bok choy is first off the line with it's heart-shaped seed leaves (right hand row), but there's a nice surprise on the left hand row of peat pots: those white nubs are the roselle seeds sprouting (that's Hibiscus sabdariffa, for those playing at home).


And then, same same but different, are the hollyhock seeds which have also begun to down roots and up leaves. So far, so good. I hope this continues and I have a proliferation of vegetable and flower seedlings taking up space on the windowsill in the weeks to come.

Sixteen days until Spring!

Welcome home

'Welcome home.' Some plants seem to say that, like these little 'Tete a Tete' miniature daffodils I planted in Autumn by the front gate.


And these, beaming away from the other side of the yard, 'hello!' (and glimpsed behind, top left, late-Winter's obligatory hot-pink camellias.)


Those daffodils are planted underneath what was the only tree in the front garden (until I got our there with my shovel), a lovely thorny ornamental plum which has just burst into flower. Light flowers and dark stems: beautiful!


Last year this tree gave us half a dozen delicious cherry-sized and coloured fruit in Summer. If we're lucky she may treat us to the same again this year.


Now, this photo doesn't look like much... yet. It's a progress shot of my front garden, because there's quite a lot going on, quietly, softly, underneath the surface and building in the stems.


Out there by the path is the carmine flash of my new Lechenaultia formosa 'Scarlett O'Hara. Can you spot it? Three pavers from the top? Maybe if you zoom in...


There's purple asparagus, tentatively poking it's nose through the soil, so tiny and slender to begin with. I had a hunch that the frothy fronds of asparagus would look good against the roses, which is why I have three different varieties planted out there now.


Speaking of roses, barely had I finished pruning them than they are gathering steam, ready to go in Spring (17 days to go!)


And just because I like this photo, here's my Hardenbergia violacea 'Happy Wanderer,' the confused ground cover that aspires to be a shrub!


Most things in my front garden are a bit shabby right now, a bit scruffy, it's been a long Winter after all, but you can tell everything out there is just waiting to go, to burst into flowers and fruitfulness and foliage, just as soon as it gets just a wee bit warmer and a lot more mild.

Mellow yellow: Winter Wednesday #11

Today is Winter Wednesday #11, as begun by Hazel, and so I stopped off by the side of the road on the way home to say hello to some old friends.

The wattles in this area started blooming weeks ago, but one in particular caught my attention: Acacia myrtifolia (myrtle wattle). She's a small shrubby plant with a profusion of lemon-yellow lopsided blooms.


Her leaves are just as pretty as her flowers, and it's those strong leaf margins that make her easy to recognise. I'm going to plant her in my front garden soon.


Overhead, alongside, and underneath and, well, everywhere really, is our golden emblem: Acacia pycnantha (golden wattle). He's looking a little bedraggled today, his fluffy pompoms reduced to limp balls by all the rain we've had in the last couple of days.


I found a lot of Hakea rostrata, the beaked hakea, with it's filamentous white flowers. You should look at the fruit shape to identify hakeas, but I didn't and am relying on the fact that this one has especially long leaves compared to the other local hakeas.


Pultenaea daphnoides is gearing up for a spectacular, if brief, spring show. Ah, my large-leafed bush-pea, I'm sorry I disliked you so much when I was writing half my thesis about you. It wasn't you, it was me. I was just miserable then but I'm over it now and I have realised that you are really quite nice and I am looking forward to your display in a few weeks time.


Pterostylis sp (greenhood orchid), my most favourite orchid in the world! I think he is Pterostylis nutans, the nodding greenhood, because he doesn't have any pixie ears sticking out the top like most of his relatives. We have these for sale at work, and I have been resisting buying one but I think it's only a matter of time before I cave in and get one.


And nearby, a teeny-tiny maroon-coloured orchid cousin, one of the Acianthus species, possibly the mayfly orchid.


And another tiny favourite of mine, the little Drosera macrantha (climbing sundew) twinkling in the filtered sunlight.


Something else a muted yellow? Creamy candles! Also known as Stackhousia monogyna.


A pop, a flash of vermilion, and yet another favourite prickly plant of mine: Astroloma conostephoides, the flame heath. I think I just love the name As-tro-lo-ma. I asked at work if they ever had it for sale and all I got was laughter! Apparently it's very, very hard to propagate, which seems strange for a little plant you see everywhere in the hills. I guess nature still keeps some secrets from us.


Dear hot pink Grevillea lavandulacea, did you know you are the only grevillea native to the Adelaide Hills?


And the last of my local friends is some sort of rush, or reed, or something. I have no idea what this one is, but it's pretty cool in my opinion, its flowers arranged like beads on a string.


So next time you're driving along and you see what looks like it might be a decent bit of bushland, stop by the side of the road and have a look, there's all sorts of stuff in there and around about now, winter's end, it becomes especially special.


***

The other day I mentioned we had some good news, well, good news for us but very bad news indeed for the giant pine tree which hangs over our yard. Well, we've had permission from the council to remove it and got onto it straight away and off he goes! About halfway up is a guy dangling off a branch with nothing more than a yellow fluorescent visibility jacket and a couple of ropes to secure him as he chainsaws off the limbs (the tree's limbs, not his own, I trust!) The tree is so big they'll be back tomorrow to continue the job, and might even need a third day. Good thing it's a fixed price! What a difference it's going to make, the sunlight is going to flood into our yard after this, great news for my vegetable garden and fruit trees.