Press the pause button

I am developing an aversion to words like

Hurry, rush, scurry, fast

Preferring instead – ponder, slow and contemplate.

It has been a semi-colon kind of an afternoon

A pause to breathe deep and catch my breath after a busy 'out & about" week.

Autumn verges on the cold snap of winter.

The last of the roses bloom giving bursts of colour and subtle fragrance against the backdrop of barren branches.

The light is low and fading with a mellow hue on this late Sunday afternoon.

Darker and damp after a shower of rain.

It is still and mild, the leaves barely holding on to their hosts. 

The air is poised on the verge of the change of season. 

Winter will arrive soon enough with a whoosh of cold wind and silent numbing frost.

Yesterday was a whole day to pause.

Not particularly productive. A bit of this and a bit of that.

A puddling, pottering, pondering day without any “have tos” on the agenda.

So relaxing.

A foreign word in today’s vocabulary.

Stop. Sit. Still.

Nap.

Becoming whole again after a scattery rattery time out and about.

Whole-some.

Time to feel wholly myself.

Not frayed or frazzled or short circuited.

To think whole thoughts.

Becoming less rare as my children grow older.

Less interruption to arrest those trains of thought and the process of following through.

A new concept after all these years.

Holy space to be quiet.

And listen.

taking time to smell the ... STOCKS!

I am not a perfectionist. That’s an advantage in a garden this size. I’d go nuts if I thought I had to have it all “just so”. Being in control is the antithesis of gardening ( and farming ) anyway isn’t it?

I am a firm believer in making the best of what you’ve got, right where you’re at.

If I waited until everything was perfect, I’d get nothing accomplished. The garden is a work in progress but I have secret hopes that one day when I grow up, I might be able to have a little sideline creating beautiful bouquets of old fashioned fragrant flowers.

So, I launched into my dream plan …. without a plan, really.

At least I prepared the soil, but there were still weeds and untamed areas all around my little plot. Let’s call it an “agricultural trial”.  An experiment.

The last two years’ stocks were some silly hybrid throwback variety that turned out to be dwarf single flowers – useless for what I had in mind. Then I tried poppies, but found out the hard way, they only last 24 hours once they’re picked.

So this was my fourth year of trowel – err – trial and error.

I tracked down the seedlings which promised to be tall, double, fragrant cerise coloured stock flowers, ideal for cutting. I had to order a mimimum of 285 of the tiny little plants. All the same colour.

I tenderly tucked them in, watered, weeded and helped them along diligently with a couple of doses of seasol. 

And waited.

The dogs tore through them, knocking them sideways, birds nibbled off some new shoots and escapee chooks scratched up a couple, but most of them came through.

‘Do what you can with what you’ve got where you are.’

That’s my new motto.

Yes, I still have plenty of weeds.

But I’ve also got beautiful stocks in all their fragrant cerise coloured glory.

Success.

Yes!

I want to be a lady in a flower shop!

I do wish I could be a florist. Or at least flit off to work as a "lady in a flower shop". Meanwhile, my heart is in the garden and I have a secret little dream tucked away to perhaps grow enough flowers to make pretty posies and beautiful bouquets that scent a home the way flowers are meant to. With spring in the air, there will be abundant flowers for the picking. And it's always fun to have some to share. It is such a cheery gift of love to give flowers. What happy work it must be to play with them all day as a business!

autumn

The gorgeous colours of red.  

All shades of red, orange and burnt umbery ochre and yellow.

The warm palette of the colour wheel heralding the change of season.  Are the falling leaves warning that winter is not far off?

The beautiful light at this time of year

The tangy chill in the late afternoon air.  

Brisk walks

The scent of wood smoke wafting the promise of comfort and a cosy fireside to ward off the chill

Just those words - Comfort.  And Cosy.

Mouth watering recipes that call for hearty casseroles to warm the tummies

A glass of good red to contemplate the firelight

Fingers twitching to dig in the dirt and plant for the promise of spring

Fingers also twitching to play with all things yarnish – bring out the knitting!

The lure of camping and campfire reveries, preferably with guitars

And some sort of … adventure …just around the corner?

Autumn.

A tantalising taste of things to come.

A sense of promise.

Of possibilities.

a little rose

Ta da!

This is a sweet little rambling rose with a mouthful of a name...

'Veilchenblau'

a real little firecracker

This little beauty is a pink honeysuckle that clamors over an arbor in company with a lovely soft pink rose. 

The honeysuckle is called 'Firecracker'.

Many of the treasures in the garden have been purchased by mail order from a nursery in the Blue Mountains, called "Honeysuckle Cottage".

What fun it is to pore over those catalogues with delicious, detailed descriptions of all sorts of perennials and old fashioned roses. 

REAL roses with fragrance and character.

I will introduce you to some of the roses as we go.

 I call them my ladies and gentlemen because they have such fine sounding titles, like Duchess de Brabant; Sir Henry; Charles de Mills and Mrs Reynolds Hole to name a couple.

plum crazy

Planting an orchard is all very well.

It is lovely to be able to pick and eat fresh fruit, straight from the tree - sunripened and juicy, the way fruit is meant to taste.

The reality is here in Queensland, that unless you spray religiously (yes, we've tried the organic methods), the fruit fly get to them.

So, I must "deal" with the fruit.I have to admit that I don't love preserving fruit. It is very time consuming.

But the plums seem to fare better than the peaches and nectarines.

Big ruby red blood plums. 

They are yummy simmered in vanilla syrup with a hint of cardamom...but also quite lovely eaten fresh from the tree - if you're careful.

Before the birds got to the crop this year, I picked an offerering to take to a friend. So she could "deal" with them :)

They do look luscious and what a lovely gift to give a city girl.