Sydney Harbor Gardens - Pink and Green in East Balmain

I've come to a lovely interlude of my Year of Living Homelessly - house-sitting at a jungle-like home on Sydney Harbor, until mid-September.

   

I don't know how Helen managed to find me. Visually, we have identical taste in plants - I restrict myself to a garden of these three contrasts: 

• Pink on Green 

• Light green on dark green on light green
  

• Fluffy or heart shaped or dangling and lavish or massive - a party of distinctive foliage

Do this, and it will come out beautiful (To Cecilia and Helen, anyway)

Recycled tin can garden. Illustration by Cecilia

As the earth-garden areas are all in shade, Helen's edibles are in sunny pots, watching the harbor - guava, strawberry. 

I could make her hibiscus into tea, dig up her bamboo shoots and ginger roots for stir fry, and infuse the cream for my crepes with her lavender.

But maybe I won't. 

I think Red Shiso, that wonderful drinkable Japanese herb, would be a perfect friend for her existing plants. Maybe next summer.

Its true that I like diversity and change. Most mornings, a different Ten Story high 'residence' appears at my balcony.  But I never get a chance to make friends, that's the downside.

Upstairs I have a choice of five balcony garden seating areas from which to have my breakfast. 

There are another five courtyard gardens to choose from, less open and sparkly, so I prefer these. Add to the list two interior gardens, and a large pot plant population. 

Friends everywhere!

Although Helen doesn't specialize in Organic or in Edibles, if cities and citizen suddenly needed to feed themselves,  she could have a successful garden going in a year or two.  She could manage a whole neighborhood to succeed, I suspect.

Its just a tiny step from turning an able gardener into a Sustainable food gardener. 

But turning your average sustainability enthusiast into a successful food gardener takes years and years. 

It did in my case.

Bit by bit my garden and its casualties got me to face up to the realities: That a healthy garden springs from healthy soil, and a healthy character (or the love of gardening elicits health in our characters)

My balcony garden taught me these things:

• Pretending there isn't a problem won't fix things, 

• Procrastinate, and there isn't a tomorrow (for the poor plants)

• Take shortcuts, and your destination disappears.  

Just being in a clear house like Helen's, where each draw is filled with everything you need, and nothing you don't, is keeping my mind decluttered, ready for good permie action. 

Please send me blessings for a productive, happy spell here in East Balmain. And introduce me to your Sydney friends, so I don't get too lonely, here with all these plants. 

Tale of two Tokyos - Domestic Robots and Permaculture bathrooms.

Roving, roving.
I'm now staying in Central Tokyo, at my usual home with the Ota family.

Robot and charcoal-fired tea ceremony brazier

This morning I reached for the broom, I got a surprise. Professor Ota came running out "No No!"
He bent down, fiddled with something on the floor, and out it sprang - the floor-sweeping robot.

I'm not a squealy girl, but this was festive, and a squeal was the natural response to having a robot scampering around. I'm living in the miracle-world future. The Jetson's cartoons I watched when tiny are now my life.


We sat and enjoyed our whisked macha green tea, with Chestnut sweets. It it bounced around irrepressibly, gobbling dust and fallen petals, then wiggling into its dock when it decided its task was complete.

Moss-eating bathroom snail

Here is a solar-powered, silent version, spotted the other week on a visit to my friend Phil Cashman's place, in Zushi, Tokyo's outskirts.
Its a particularly well-designed snail, cleaning the bathroom slowly but steadily.



Phil made his bathroom himself, from an old Miso barrel, and other reclaimed timber.
To reach it you cross a bridge, the lively stream below flows from the greywater-reclaiming system he is constructing. Unwanted nutrients are removed automatically by useful micro-organisms and plants. No recharging, all on site, and again, silent. Oh, and free.

Wooden Tub

He's become so skilled at recruiting mirco-help, he put together this daisy-fresh compost toilet.

And while he was at it, he put in an outdoor shower, probably with water caught from the roof and warmed by the sun....
Its a Toilet Tower, actually, to make sure there's room for everything. Instead of flushing, our contributions are followed by a cup full of sawdust, to get the carbon/nitrogen balance just right, heat-treating the mix below. There are two old bathtubs, the second one full of crumbly humus, happy earthworms.
The toilet tower and other buildings are veiled by this Egyptian bean vine, which Phil said just thrived over the hot summer holidays, with no watering. It scrambles up the sunniest walls, just where its needed, a self-installing, self-directing awning. Solar powered.


But wait, it does more.
This bean employs microbes, right at its roots. It trades them sugars, in return for converting air-nitrogen into usable nitrogen for itself and its neighbors in the soil, making it a rich community down there. Its beans are also good for people, making them happy at dinnertime. And its strikingly beautiful.

Phil Cashman

Robust, pro-active, productive, and multi-skilled. And gorgeous. A real treasure.

My friend YumiBear babysits Phill Cashman's daughters.

Fragrant Ruby-Red Shiso drink from Japanese summer 'Weeds'

Shiso juice drink, one of the blessings of Japanese summer

Shiso is one of summertime's blessings. It self-seeds in the spring, grows fearlessly through rainy season, unbothered my most pests, and ready to be turned into wonderful summer dishes. It comes in red or green. The flavor is a cinamon-minty, with a kind of face-cream fragrance you don't expect of food. When In Melbourne, I get it from Asian Grocers, called 'Asian Basil', or Perilla.



The last weekend of my spring-summer tokyo stay had me creating a Layer garden at community Garden Lemon in Odawara. Farmer Hoda was the star of the show, dashing off site every time I realized I needed something, and coming back with the goods.
His day of generosity wound up with me doing an evening harvest of the excess shiso at his home garden.

Here is how I turned it into food:

First
Took it home on the train with our other bundles of mountain vegetables and treasures. My elegant garden-creating friends and I were the first truly dirty people I have seen in a Japanese train these 16 years. What is going on here, I wonder?
The other passengers seemed generous about it, and offered to take our photos.

Next
Easy. Washed the leaves, boiled them 5 minutes in a pot.
The water was murky brown, the red leaves turned to wilted green.
Then...I added the juice from Farmer Hoda's organic Lemons. OOOH! It went a vivid ruby-red.
Next some honey, soda water, and ....' bitter' was the most prominent flavor, not at all like how other people's mothers make it.

Then
Then I doctored it with the honeyed 'drinking vinegar', my farewell present from my dear cameraman Mr. Iwamuro.

Amazingly delicious!

Be patient. Dont give up. Plant shiso seeds this spring - thats the lesson from my adventures in Shiso.





Shiso drink recipies from Obachan's Kitchen

Being a generator of Surprise - dandelions and wildflowers come to visit

I was on the run for three days, from one Permaculture Presentation to another, sleeping all over the place.
Look what welcomed my worn out old self back for the last event - A vase of wildflowers on the breakfast table on my deck. Clover, self-seeded poppies, erigeron.
I knew it wouldn't have been Asaba-san - she loves and accepts everything, and you can't co-ordinate without 'ordaning' that some things belong, and some don't. "I'm like a man", she says "no sense of style".

"Yoko-san!" I guessed.


Then I walked into my room - drying dandelions at my window. With Yoko's fingerprints all over them.

I remembered one of the books she wrote and illustrated. I saw it 11 years ago, when I last visited her as a Servas traveler. It was called something like 'Come on!". A mother is getting her child to hurry hurry, put on shoes, put on coat, run up the hill to see - a sunset.

The whole world alive in vivid orange and mysterious mauve.

Yoko is rough in conversation, not Japanese at all.
But a Master of generating delicately dramatic surprises.

Yoko from Kunitachi, at Cecilia's

post-Permaculture presentation party #2

Designing and carrying out an act of surprise is one of the ultimate freedoms, Ive just realized. Nothing remiss about not giving them, completly not required.

But Yoko, I want the new me to be like you, a richer giver of surprises.

Carefully Fermented Strawberries to fizz up your life

I woke up early on my first Monday(late April) at RuuRuu and Q's legendary Den of Creativity in Shibuya.
In walks Mrs Natural Bakery, Amy-san, with the Jar of fizzy strawberries in her hand.
Yesterday at my Permaculture after-party she tried to explain how she used strawberry and other fruit cultures instead of yeast, but I just couldn't get it.
Now I see.


Amy and Ruu Ruu prepare welcome party food, with city-delivered veggies grown by their organic farming mates.
Declutterers heaven (my sideline. I'm just lying in wait).


It works like this. You sterilize the jar with boiling water, preventing mould and not-good microbes from spoiling the batch.
You then fill the jar with fruit, and some cooled, once boiled water, to the rim. The good microbes go to work, and in a few days, you get this fizzy, CO2 filled 'vitamin water'.

You can drink it, and become as bright sparky as Asaba-san and her mate, my host Ruu Ruu


Or you can use it to make your bread rise, as Mrs Baker does.
The bread was lovely and light, but with no trace of strawberry taste.


Listen...Fizzy!

I once grew hanging basket strawberries on my balcony, their fragrance was intense, and kind of drove me crazy. They were safe from marauding snails up there, but the birds had a great party, till I decided to wrap them all in misty bridal tulle. They succeeded because I planted them in 100% home grown compost, made with lots of woody material - forest fruits are in their element in a fungi-rich forest-floor style compost.
And I am back in my element, surrounded by the dreamiest, go-getter Japanese.

Two days before moving day, Balcony Garden finds new mates

The passionfruit sits in a 70 cm tall pot, taking from the soil all the energy it needs to grow up strong and flowery, to give me shade, privacy, flowers and fruit. Getting it down will be a 3 part challenge - soil, plant and pot all descending seperately.

Last day on Cecilia's Balcony Garden, with the water tank viewable behind the illustrated door.

Disassembling a loved home and garden feels like felling a rainforest, it took 8 years of refining to get it this way, and 2 days to reverse all that. But nothing lasts forever, and I emerge from this as alive and heathy as ever.


First Plants to go of to their new home went to Lahta's Balcony garden in Carlton - pond with iris and native water lillies, Camillia tree from Eliott Goblett, a few Orchids with plump flower spikes, Lots of herbs and more, with the goldfish going along for the ride.

Lahta the balcony garden Farmer digging up my pet plants

Great biodiversily Lahta, its already attracting lizards.

Dan Palmer and Kath Consider what to take

Dan Palmer of Very Edible Gardens came to take a 3 meter Persimmon, an 8 year old lime tree, and bales of straw, all for his new Rental Permaculture Sharehouse in Williamstown. I hope they enjoyed the ride, with their ears flapping and tails wagging as never-before-scenery flew by them.


Proof that Engineers are the best people, Ron Noonan of the Williamstown Garden Club turned up with his trusty trailer, and trundled away with my favorite pets - lillies, fig tree, 2 meter lily pilly, Rubarb, Six meters of Passionfruit vine, some 4 year old asparagus (16 more years to go), the massive birdcage, and the dear old water tank.




I'd love to see how everyone is going, sprouting, fruiting and flourishing. I miss you guys, you were my mates, and gave me nice surprises every day.
xx

Freddy Mercury's Garage sale and Hanging Begonias in Balarat

Cecilia and Freddie Mercury

I Accidentally went to Ballarat.

I was there nearly two hours before I realized the elegant, gourmet gold mining city I had in mind was Bendigo. The town I found myself in was flat, architectually wonderful, but definitely not Bendigo.

But I got Lucky. I got to hang out with Freddy Mercury, who, it seems, is also clearing out his garage. The exhibition had old album covers, tour baggage slathered with stickers. The drawcard was the till-now unseen photos taken by his roadie, of Freddie and the rest of Queen scrambling though life with polystyrene cups and disorder their constant companion.
I saw for the first time that Queen were never able to guarantee that what they did would succeed. But mostly it did, and Freddy and the gang just kept going, kept writing, creating, pouring it all out for us.

Man (not Freddy) posing with Mercury (winged helmet statue)
for a photograph by his mum

After being Rocked by Queen, I toddled off to the Begonia Show, the other thing to do in Ballarat.

Ballarat begonia festival promotion from 1950s archive

I've not researched begonias, but looking at the super-juicy soft stems and fragile flowers, I had the feeling they would be dinner-on-a-plate for every garden pest that exists.
Choosing such a plant for an organic garden would be setting myself up for heartbreak, kind of like being one of Freddie's infinite garden of lovers.
Not just that, it but would be jarring visually. Despite themselves, people have an old instinct for what doesn't belong, you can't fudge harmony. No matter how beautiful, visual associations are even more difficult to erase, and there is something very 1950s about these plants, evocative of nursing homes.


But I've discovered begonias have an impressive vastness of range, from chihuahua to great dane. Some live their lives as hardy, drought-tolerant roadside plantings, then others stay indoors with Queen Elizabeth-type owners, coddled and protected, then astonishing us with massive plastic-like blossoms.

My guardian angel's trumpet trying to help and comfort me

Parasol-like, chandelier-like, its my pink angels trumpet in bloom
Photo: Cecilia

Today I started dragging my worldly goods from the garage, to photograph for sale. I must leave my lovely house, so before the terrible day comes, I will shed whatever is probably not essential to my new mystery life.

My plants are worried about me, I think. Look what this angel trumpet did - she lent me her beauty to help sell my things, and bloomed on this very day.

Blackberry picking weekend picnic, for Shrove Tuesday pancakes

Wild blackberry photo by Cecilia Macaulay

If only my painstakingly cared-for balcony berries were as lush as these irrepressible wild blackberries. My own berries, searching for sun, went trailing over the edge of the balcony where I cannot see them, enjoy them, but most importantly, can't get an idea of how much transpiration is going on, so I let them get woefully thirsty.
Still, now Ive acknowledged my trespasses, they are forgiving me, and putting out green shoots back on the abandoned canes.


According to this ABC interview on Australian Blackberries, this prickly pest plant dominates an area the size of Tasmania, takes $70 million + from our economy, all so I can enjoy a nice blackberry crepe with cream on our Shrove Tuesday. I enjoy imagining an innocent, eccentric Baron Ferdinand von Mueller dancing though the bush, strewing seed, glowing with pride in the imagined gratitude of future generations, who thanks to his effort would have self-growing food in the summer, and never die when they stray off into the bush.

In fact, the Baron was the same extremely capable fellow that established Melbourne's amazing Botanical Gardens, and probably didn't dance much.

Dominic, Katie and Lon picking berries, photo by Cecilia Macaulay

My sister Katie and the gang went up to visit my brother Dominic on the weekend. Pulling out these bushes was one of his jobs, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, with it looking so pretty and hopeful.

Dom lives in a cubbyhouse behind the pub, at the Whistle stop cafe. He used to just view it while waiting on the platform for the train to take him home from work - that is no longer necessary.
Hey, with all those free blackberries, work is not really necessary either.

So the day before our Lenten fast, 40 days of sackcloth, ashes and repentance, Have a Mardi Gras, or Gross (fat) Tuesday (mardi) gobbling down all the sugar, eggs, butter and rich things we can, while the going is good.

And of course, the blackberries, never forget the blackberries.

Roses for every edible balcony garden

The hot day encoraged my ten-year-old potted rose to blossom. Not wanting the rosebuds to get toasted the next hot day, I brought them inside, and arranged as ikebana.

Inside I could marvel intimately at their unfurling, peaking, and decline over two days. But not wanting the young petals to fade before being appreciated fully, I sprinkled them into in the evenings salad. Rosepetals have a velvety texture, and taste like...salad dressing.

Thai rose petal and cucumber salad by Jill Duplix, photo by Marina Oliphant

Flowers are sometimes maligned as 'Useless ornament' in Permaculture circles, but roses can certinaly defend themselves.

Yes, they give me salad garnish. They also fill the air with fragrance, and give me good endorphins with their beauty. I love blooms as a renewable jewelry alternative, a year-round valentine's day present from God (bless him!).

Cecilia and fragrant rose trout fishing on January 1st 2010 from New Year's Adventure

Aung San suu kyi with her flowers, unsuerpassably beautiful woman.

Some women give more honour to the flower's life than others, by living out the flowers generous, life-giving spirit long after the bloom would have faded. Aung San, I still have lots of good years left, I might still do something special with my life. And my flowers.

Find thorny climbing roses, and they can replace barbed wire and protect your balcony from marauding possums, as the african villages surrond themselves with Briar Hedges to keep out the lions.

Protection by law?
Thorny climbing Rose photo from 'Gardening Resources for Attorneys'

Patio Roses are miniature, prolific flowering, and very tough. The potted one above was reduced to a mere stick after getting lost in the bushes and forgotten. Then with almost no sun, it produced this single brave flower. Lets see how many blooms some regular watering and Seasol liquid will stimulate.

I put its sick mate, the more vividly pink rose, into the ground, where it is taking very good care of itself.

Roses like sunshine and an airy spot, for maximum flowering and to keep any mildew from developing. If their pot is little enough, you can re-position it if its not doing well on a cramped balcony. Better still, gift it to a sunny friend.

For a list of what flowers are good for eating, click on this marvelous website all about edible flowers. I'm now looking for recipes for fuchsias, my favorite balcony garden flower, and now I have a Permacultural excuse for growing them too.