I know it’s not halloween yet but

It’s been a strange few days. It has been gloriously sunny and warm – that’s just for starters – and I have been outside catching up on the gardening weeding and nurturing baby seedlings both inside and outside of the grow house. I think I’m going to have to call it the “Tomato House” this year as besides all the tomatoes that I’ve grown from seed this year, i.e. Brandywine, Ox Heart, Roma, Black Krim and Black Russian and a stripy green one which I can’t remember the name of, quite a few volunteers from last year have popped up! That includes Tigerella, Wild Currant, Gardeners Delight and Moneymaker. I am determined to be strong and strict this year and trim all side shoots and pull out wimpy seedlings but already I am slightly overwhelmed. I mean, I have the most flourishing kale plant, but it’s inside the grow house. I didn’t plant it there, I have never had kale inside the grow house, that would be just stupid. I haven’t even had the kale seed around the grow house. So the scary question is “Where did it come from?” Has the wind picked up the seed from the kale outside and miraculously blown it in through the door and then dropped it in the planter 10 metres away from the door? Perhaps one of the birds that has flown in from time to time has secreted (or excreted it) it in the planter?  Or does Mr Kale have a master plan to TAKE OVER THE WORLD one grow house at a time, eek! Meanwhile I’ll keep using it in salads and soups etc. I have left the one outside in flower deliberately as it is over 18 months old and I plan to collect the seeds but the one inside was growing long before the one outside was flowering.

And then there’s the rock melons….  I planted three seeds in a little pot. Only one grew but that was okay and I kept watering it and giving it encouragement daily.  Then I noticed something that looked like rock melon sprouting up in the bed of the grow house – two of them. I hurriedly planted the little one from the pot but alas, I don’t think it is ever going to catch up with its brothers, sigh. Of course, the rock melons are going to have to magically weave their ways around all the tomato plants too.

I have a theory about capsicum. I think that it’s vindictive! I don’t eat capsicum because it repeats on me – over and over and over again. But M likes it so for three years now I have been trying to grow capsicum. I don’t care what colour, red, green or yellow, it’s fine. I have a mini chocolate capsicum, bought as a seedling from a shop two years ago, but it’s sooooo mini once the seeds are discarded there’s barely anything left! So once, again I’ve planted  green and  banana yellow capsicum seeds and so far a big fat nothing! Just ‘cos I said I didn’t eat capsicum it’s sulking, hrumph…

But back to the strange few days. M is up north putting up a grow house in Burnie. He left on Sunday with the trailer loaded up and will be home sometime tonight, Tuesday. My question is, why is it that when he is away I stop eating sensibly? I always cook from scratch but what is my problem with doing it for just me? So instead of two regular evening meals with veggies what did I do? I ate a chicken leg on Sunday night and last night I went crazy and cooked a mushroom omelette. I have salad in the fridge, did I eat that? No. I have an assortment of veggies in the fridge and the garden, did I bother? No.  Consequently I have made a vegetable soup for tonight and crammed as many veggies in as I could to have with my freshly baked sourdough bread. Soup is good when you have no idea what time he will be home. But I do this every time that he’s away. My theory is that because I can get so much more done when he’s not around to interrupt divert me that I end up doing too much for too long and then just can’t be bothered doing anything else in the kitchen. What else could it be?

But, to put the whole darn thing into complete strangeness – I woke up this morning with a cold. In one nostril only. Streaming  all day, dew drops a major hazard and rib crunching sneezes. This afternoon I even had to have a little lie down. I have not been near anyone with germs, I only went up to the corner shop to collect the weekend papers  once. If you leave it until the Sunday you can get both and have a real news fest! M has been away and I have not been outside of this house/garden for a week (that sounds a bit sad but I like it like that). So am I back to the wind dropping germs into my left nostril, I know it wasn’t a bird, I would have noticed. I think.

I haven’t even started on the story about the dog………          

                                                                               

Jan

I’ve just worked it out!

I was born in the wrong century

 

Meet Nellie Page, an exotic dancer from the 19th century. 

I wonder what would happen if she tried to join a dance company today?????

 

Jan

An email I received this morning -

If you never learn the language of gratitude, you will never be on speaking terms with happiness.

A father and mother kissing their dying little girl goodbye. If you are wondering why all the medic people are bowing: in less than an hour, two small children in the next room are able to live thanks to the little girl's kidney and liver.

Jan

I love this picture

 

 

That’s all.

Jan

Losing Confidence

So here I am – again.

It’s been a strange year, not altogether pleasant either. The times that I have been the happiest have been when I’ve been away from home. That’s not right, surely. In my working life, I mean when I got paid for working for others, my home was my refuge, my haven, and I loved it. I used to work in an area that had me assisting the homeless, dysfunctional, sick and unemployed so at times it was somewhat testing if not scary even. So to come home at night was an absolute dream.

I’ve been outside of the paid workforce now for three years and I feel like I’ve lost touch with the world. I was confident in the work that I used to do and quite happily voiced my opinions when required. I usually had a funny story relating to the workplace that I could tell (never breaking confidentiality) and friends would ask for advise or just be happy to use me as a sounding board. But I also believed that I had such a lot to learn about living sustainably with gardening, cooking from scratch, baking bread and everything else that once retired I would be fulfilled. Hmmm.

Now all I can tell people is how high the broad beans are growing or that my sourdough bread is coming along nicely or that spinning wool is not for me. Not exactly exciting for most. Somehow I have become a recluse, silent and nervous with people I don’t know. Staring at the computer screen, wondering why I bother. Nobody reads boring blogs and I don’t seem to have anything interesting to say. But here I am. I keep trying and I plan to go back and read some of my early posts to see how far I have come in my plan to live more sustainably. I know I have improved in some areas but lost out in others such as my personal belief in WHO I AM. I don’t know anymore and some days I just don’t want to be here – anywhere – it’s all too hard. But let’s stop there before I begin to wallow!

One really, really good thing is that I haven’t had a cigarette now for six weeks and I have no plans to have any more. I knew it would be hard so I took advantage of the prescription available from the doctor which blocks the receptors in the brain with regards to nicotine. The drug itself has a bit of a dodgy reputation so I have continued to visit the psychologist and warned friends and family to tell me of any drastic personality changes. So far, so good. But then as I am a bit of a recluse that could be cheating. If only they could make a drug that blocks the receptors in the brain that encourage eating too much!

                  

Yes, the Tulip Festival in Wynyard, Tasmania was last weekend, 13th October and my friend Sue and I drove up for a couple of days as neither of us had been before.  The flowers were stunning and we were both impressed with the town and its use of tulips in the verges and town centre. There seems to be a great pride in the town and after the Saturday morning foreshore market had been dismantled and removed there was not one item of litter to be seen! Very impressive I must say, as it had been very busy when we stopped for a mooch around. It was a lovely market, with a huge selection of items for sale at “real” market prices. It wasn’t full of cheap and nasty either. I even saw kitchen tools that my mother used in her kitchen that I remember, they looked as old as my mothers too but were still going strong. (My mother would have turned 100 years old this year). I was able to pick up a couple of cake baking pans and a small radio for M’s workshop, none of which was over $2. My friend Sue surprised me with an early Christmas present. She had spotted the perfect baking bowl for my sourdough bread. Once again it was similar to the bowl that my mother used so many years ago and is the perfect size and not too heavy.

After the market and a visit to the tulip fields we went to the nearby Table Cape Lighthouse and climbed the 70 steps to the top for these magnificent views:-

                       

The weather wasn’t the kindest on the Saturday, being a bit cool and the occasional shower of rain but it didn’t manage to diminish our enjoyment. The day ended with a spectacular fireworks show and we had the best view from the pub (the meals there are pretty good too).

So, that was last weekend.  Let’s see if I can think of things to write closer to home……  Next time.

Jan