A Washout?

Ms Mova and Ms Tagalong rubbed the sleep out of their eyes as they unpacked the car with the carefully prepared packs of chillies, lemon verbena, lemongrass, bunches of rosemary, pots of aloe vera and paraphernalia for the first appearance of a community garden at the Newcastle Show.

It was not promising. The rain had fallen all night, the ground was waterlogged, but inside the marquee it was dry if not cosy and warm.

The table was set, arranged and down came the rain. Streams, nay torrents raced through the marquee under the table and out the other side. Habitant in Harmony volunteers emerged from the sheeting rain like drowned rats. They should have got up early like Ms Mova and Ms Tagalong! Shouldn’t be rude, they dispensed some wonderful hot carob milk. (More about that at a later date)

As it was, it made for a very long, wet day with few viewers and even fewer takers. There was a highlight (there always is) Ms Mova and Tagalong were asked to judge the school scarecrow exhibition.

The task taken seriously they pondered, scratched their heads and carefully judged according to the criteria given.

Such wonderful prizes it seemed a shame more schools hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to show their artistic side.

Ms Tagalong dodged the showers and looked at the piglets, the baby goats and the very entertaining chickens. Some of them definitely needed to be kept behind bars.

Later, it was a damp, cool night for the Film in the Garden, but those who dressed up and came along enjoyed every minute of it. The group decamped to a member’s living room and were captivated by the charismatic Diana Vreeland.

The opening salvo set the scene.

‘You just have to arrange to be born in Paris. The rest is easy!’

What a character.

So don’t let the weather put you off, here at Tighes Hill Community Garden – it’s never a washout! 

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Air Gardens

Ms Tagalong is always on the lookout for gardens to report on. Gardens here, gardens there, gardens anywhere. Mostly her eyes are groundwards, maybe sweeping upwards to some bushes and trees.

Strolling along the North Bank of the Yarra in Melbourne her beady eyes were taken with some strange shapes swinging and twirling in the breeze above her head. So what were they? Cobweb encrusted coathangers? Weird and wonderful.

Stopping to read, she notes:

‘The concept is to suspend series of super sustainable rotating air gardens within the Melbourne environment.’Lloyd Godman is the artist.  It says Godman’s artworks are purifiers of the air as well as the soul, suppliers of colour as well as calmness, and filters of water as well as the human spirit.

Ms Tagalong calls to Mr Ideasman to see if his spirit feels filtered as she points out the recycled bicycle wheels wrapped in air plants. Enjoying a conversation with his Mum he barely glances and Ms Tagalong feels that perhaps his mind has already sieved out Ms T’s prattle.

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Lazarus - the chicken

The distressed faces of Ms Mova and Ms Tagalong said it all. They grimaced and gawped as the lovely Isa Brown, so vibrant a few hours ago fell headlong into its porridge. Eyes closed, she was limp in the hands of Ms Tagalong.

It might do to back up a little and say that as they were working in the garden on Saturday, they noticed one of the girls, who should have been happily tearing up one of the allocated beds, squatting down and seemingly heaving, tail down.

‘Might be eggbound, ‘ said Ms Mova authoritatively. Then added, ‘Shall I look it up?’ and went off to consult the Great God Google.

‘Could be,’ she said, ‘do you want to hear the cures? 1. Hold her rear end over a bowl of steaming water hoping that it will relax her to lay the egg. 2. Massage some olive oil over the nether regions and 3. Never put in a finger to get her to release it.’

Ms Tagalong was glad the last option was off the agenda.

‘Let’s try the steaming water,’she said. And so it was. Ten minutes after the steaming started, a few gentle pooping sounds later, the definitely off colour hen emitted a strangled sound and collapsed into some carefully mixed porridge oats and olive oil.

‘Well, there’s another one gone then. I wonder what it was for her to go down so quickly?’ Ms Tagalong said.

As Ms Tagalong gently lay her hands to the ground the lifeless chicken moved her head. She did, she really did. She opened her eyes and started pecking the oats in the container. Ms Tagalong and Ms Mova watched agape as she then took in water from the small stainless steel bowl next to her. She regained strength and in a few minutes was standing up!

‘Well I never,’ said Ms Tagalong, ‘I thought she’d died in my arms.’

But no, she was back. Ten minutes later she waddled back into the run and as she sat down Ms Mova thought the small pen might be better equipped to deal with an egg the size of which no-one in Tighes Hill had ever seen.

Don’t know if she ever laid the giant egg but she is happily pecking around today with the best of them.

‘Is this normal chook behaviour?’ pondered Ms Mova.

Any answersanyone?

Is this the offending egg?

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Veg out this year!

Hard to believe whilst the country swelters under the heat Ms Tagalong found a cool spot just a few weeks ago at the Veg Out Community Garden in St Kilda.

Strolling through the ‘co-ordinated whimsy’ from pirate ships to ranch gates Ms Tagalong came across Peter, a 3 years long participant, watering his plot.

‘It’s all about community rather than the plot itself,’ he said.

It certainly seems to be so with over $200,000 raised for local charity projects in the last 10 years, free weekly lunches for the homeless and a thriving Organic Farmer’s Market.

Ideally located in a former bowling club the garden has a working kitchen, classrooms, arts studios, pizza oven, mains water, tanks for watering and toilets. So lucky, thought Ms Tagalong as she listened wide-eyed to the upcoming plans for an extended ‘art fence’ a 3 year long-term project, saw the just completed vine structure and all the sitting areas and art installations.

Hugh, the Vice President relates how they rent out 150 individual plots with participation in 2 working bees for the year which helps install the infrastructure such as the sleeper surrounded beds, the bedhead trellises etc.

An added bonus to membership is the sampling of the 30 litres of wine they made last year!

Mr Ideasman struck up conversation with a lady with a very expensive chicken. A chicken who had had a $2,300 hysterectomy!  She now can’t lay eggs but still tries.  Mmm

So that's it: the community garden Veg Out in Melbourne.

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Social, social, social....

Christmas comes but once a year but with the amount of Christmas parties and festivities around the neighbourhood you might be forgiven for thinking that it is a December-long holiday!

Friday night saw members of the Garden and the Community Group gather to share food, frolic and play music on a balmy Summer evening. No sooner had you surveyed the food table than yet another platter of delicious comestibles were added. Cake made with eggs from the garden, Vietnamese Spring Rolls made with mint and lettuce from the garden, elderflower cordial from the elder bush in the garden and so on…

Much food, drink and conversation later, the Thukes got going, singing and playing a medley of songs from their repertoire which got quite a few up and dancing, Ms Mova and Ms Tagalong leading the way with Red joining in, plus of course the inevitable Christmas Carols with some guest singers visiting from Melbourne.

One fabulous outcome from the evening is that Ms Tagalong is proud to announce that The Source Café is going to be using available produce from the Community Garden as we provide a mixed box of veg and herbs weekly. Thanks Source for providing us with an ongoing income and keeping it about as local as you can get!

After a stunning concert at the Treehouse on Saturday night it was back to the garden on Sunday for a debrief and celebration of the coal survey doorknocking campaign which has been taking place in the suburb. A good turnout and welcome results for all those living with the coal dust! Let’s just get those politicians onboard!

And what about the actual garden, Ms Tagalong hears you ask, well it is growing abundant, verdant, luxurious with produce needing to be picked. So come for your tomatoes and cucumbers, basil and lettuce, beans and kale. It’s a bumper crop before the hot, dry weather sets in again.

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The girls are laying. The rain has fallen. Everything is right with the world.

This morning Ms Tagalong squeezed into the garden past all the verdant growth and had to let out the chickens although it wasn’t her turn. They were very vociferous, indignant even, at letting even the shortest micro-second of daylight pass without them being outside the coop.

Scrabbling to get out, the heaped through the door and fell out, racing toward a bountiful heap of scraps that some kind soul had posted over the fence.

They scratched and clucked, tossed and rummaged.

Ms Tagalong’s keen eye spotted some eggshells amongst the pickings and thought a moment of education was in need.

The chickens will eat their own eggs if they get into the habit so it is wiser not to put the halved eggshells in whole, if you take Ms Tagalong’s meaning. Best recipe is to bake them in the oven when you are baking something else on a low light and then crush them as finely as possible and chuck over the fence for them to scratch at. Hey presto, our very own grit without any expense!

p.s. if you are wondering why there is the Great Fence of China erected between the smaller and larger run it is because Ms Tagalong has sowed some green mulch seeds for the girls and our black wonder (chicken not sheep) keeps flying over and tasting the protruding seedlings. Not yet!

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Black sheep

Waiting for another walk!

Every community has a black sheep!

Probably you have heard whispers of black sheep in the family since you were knee-high!

We don’t talk about Uncle Dirk.

Don’t mention cousin Hattie and don’t even whisper whatever happened to Joe?

The shame of the black sheep. Every family of landed gentry has a wayward son or daughter who may or may not sing the nursery rhyme.

Baa, baa black sheep

Have you any wool?

Yes, sir, Yes, sir

Three bags full.

One for the master

One for the dame

And one for the little boy

Who lives down the lane.

Well, a few weeks ago the not so distant sound of bleating reached Ms Tagalong’s ears. She knows that Tighes Hill is becoming a village, not just a community but…She opened the front door to be greeted by two young garden poets and a black sheep on a lead.

‘We’re taking her for a walk,’ they said, ‘down to the park.’

‘Right,’ said Ms Tagalong, ‘she’ll like that!’

And that’s how she knows every community has a black sheep!

***

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