Humble Pie

Ms Tagalong learned some salutary lessons this week. Eating humble pie being one of them. Ms Tagalong thinks that she has realised how easy it is to offend your readers when writing this type of blog. In the past there was a neat disclaimer offered-all characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

It would be rather disingenuous to offer this same disclaimer as the garden is a living, breathing reality, not an invention of the mind. However, Ms Tagalong has certainly extended poetic licence, stretched it to breaking point, exaggerated truth and downright told lies to make the story sound better or more entertaining. Quotes appear out of character's mouths and are moulded and formed to how Ms Tagalong would like them to be.

All my lovely characters, I love you all and if Ms Tagalong has poked fun gently there might not indeed have been anything to poke fun at; lies, damned lies and apologies or some such thing.


Supermoon might have had something to do with all this lack of inner self knowledge for Ms Tagalong this week. Moons make people say strange things so Ms Tagalong has been told. Several were told to her at the Full Moon Party on Saturday night but she will not reveal these, even on pain of death!

The working bee was small and fruitful. Well lots of figs were dropping just outside the garden anyway. Some very diligent helpers lovingly transplanted some seedlings into their toilet roll homes until they are planted out when a bit stronger. A labour of love with great concentration and very few cups of tea and even less glasses of wine (that came later!)


Keep them watered and we should have bumper crops of coriander and parsley this winter. Humble pie always tastes good topped with chopped atonement and coriander.

What a monster!

Well what am I talking about? Could it be the birthweight of Ms Mova's latest grandchild? Could it be a comment on the exploits of the two year old next door? No, it is actually a homegrown variety, a garden-grown veritable leviathan in the Convolvulaceae plant family. This sweet potato is known by the scientific name of Ipomoea batatas. The well-known flower called "Morning Glory" belongs to the same botanical family as the sweet potato. Well this is certainly some kind of fantastic morning glory, an evening glory maybe, delivering enough nutrition for a small army. Weighing in at a hefty 2.2kg this exotically formed monster was being called some very rude names when Ms Tagalong spied it sitting on Ms Mova's kitchen bench.


So what would you do with such another if you happened to dig in the right place in the garden? Ms I don't want to go back to work seemed very keen to find a good recipe. Something to do with thrift Ms Tagalong suspects as much as to do with utilising the wonderful produce we produce. That could have been a typo but it wasn't! Fear not, Ms Tagalong will career to the rescue (no puns intended) and provide a recipe at the end of this blog.

A quiet weekend in the garden saw Ms Tagalong digging a big hole on the verge to take the kaffir lime from her backgarden which is not getting enough sun to grow to its full potential. As she thrust down the crowbar, juddering her back and shoulders, not to mention wrists, she ruminated on how it was that she, at the ripe old 50 something plus age was labouring like a common navvy? Sweat drops flying off in all directions, wiping the mud on her shirt, she was very glad that she did not plant trees for a living. The kaffir lime, however, looks happier already and Ms Pruner across the road will no doubt be out with her secateurs, busily nipping and tucking to give it the beauty makeover it is well in need of. It will soon look like this one with its fresh growth.


African Sweet Potato Stew (Good Housekeeping Vegetarian Cookbook)Feeds 4-6 people
1 onion peeled and chopped
2 tbsp oil
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
2tsp grated fresh root ginger
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
350g sweet potatoes peeled and cut into cubes
15ml mild or medium curry paste
300ml passata or diced tomatoes
300ml vegetable stock
225g spinach leaves, trimmed
225g button mushrooms sliced
60ml peanut butter
30ml chopped fresh coriander
salt and pepper to taste
coriander sprigs for garnish

1. Heat oil and fry onion, garlic, ginger and cayenne gently for about 10mins
2. Add curry paste to the onion mixture and cook for 1 minute. Add sweet potatoes and stir to coat and fry for 3-4 minutes. Add the passata and stock. Bring to boil and simmer for 15-20 minutes.
3. Add sliced mushrooms and cook for 10 mins or so with shredded spinach added towards the end of this time.
4. Mix a few spoonfuls of juices with the peanut butter to soften and then stir back into the pan. Add chopped coriander and seasoning. Serve with rice and garnished with coriander sprigs.

The end of the world as we know it

Ms Tagalong worked hard at trying to make the newly planted seeds Ms Teapenny-proof.
She shooed Ms Teapenny off the basil bed...again, and bent chicken wire over bamboo stakes and watered the poor little seeds which may never be brave enough to germinate. Actually, they have probably all been eaten by the chicken escapees who have been trimming the basil most eagerly. But there is always a come-uppance ladies and Ms Chicken Expert came along just in time and trimmed their wings. If only Ms Teapenny would appreciate that she cannot climb the fence, flapping wildly to get over.

But the most important thing to tell you all is that all this work might be to no avail. Ms Mova told Ms Tagalong that according to the Mayan calendar the end of the world is nigh. Well, nearly nigh. The 21st December 2012 to be exact. So live it up, plant and reap like there is no tomorrow, well only 655 tomorrows then. Ms Mova wasn't making this up, you know, she was told by a very reliable source, a woman of Irish credentials, with no touch of the Blarney that this was going to happen.

Actually Ms Tagalong has her suspicions that the gardeners must know this, seeds are still sitting in packets, collected ones moulder in jars, sorted ones sit patiently waiting for the magic ingredients of water and warmth to germinate. Where are you gardeners, out jollymaking, haymaking and waiting for the end of the earth as we know it?

Apocalyptic news is never welcome but if we don't get some decent rain soon, our garden will return to the dust from whence it came. Too much to water by hand we need a good grant to put this right. Reticulation systems and full water tanks remain a dream at present. And talking about dreams...

Ms Mova has been talking about moon planting again. Her face goes all dreamy, she smiles vacantly and Ms Tagalong suspects she has some floaty scarves in her wardrobe. Brings to mind Luna Lovegood really. Actually, potty is quite appropriate for a gardener now I think about it!

So remember all of you out there. Today is the day to sow those winter crop seeds, take them home if you will. Water and nurture and return to the garden when they are good healthy seedlings. Or, of course, just plant in the garden, we have soil and beds are ready. Just remember to water them assidiously or stick in a sign encouraging others to do so. The rosemary looks good!

S and M bats

Well what do you know? Life couldn't get more exciting. Sitting in the garden last Friday, with a cool drink in hand and delicious snacks on plates in front of us, we looked at the swarms of bats, mm wrong word I think, streaming in from the direction of the sea towards the fig trees. Yes, I looked up the collective and it can be a colony of bats, most possibly said when they are asleep, or a cloud of bats. I like the cloud description; they scattered and screeched and fell into the trees in a noisy cacophony. Like so many feathered, raggedy clouds torn into pieces by the trees. Just be glad you don't live on Bellingen Island.

So there we were swapping bat stories when Ms Mova reported such close encounters from her deck that she could have leant out and touched them. "They are amazing," she said," I could see their little pink tongues and they were all dressed in black leather with little stilettos as they primped up the branches in search of the fruit."

Imagination was exchanged by hard labour on Saturday for the working bee. More piles of 'stuff' were moved around the garden. The fruit trees were surrounded by more soil and covered in the newly arrived mulch.
Barrow loaders spread out the mulch along the ends of the beds and of course Ms Teapenny was intrigued by all the movement and jumped onto the barrow to have a look. The others were not so impressed and kept quiet in the shade afforded by the door on such a muggy day.


And look what else we found! The most wonderful sweet potatoes from our plants which came from the sacking of Villiers. Thank you fellow community garden.


Ms Designer was checking out the radicchio helped by Lucy Legless and we started talking spinach recipes. "Just cook it with rice and lemon," she said. Sounds delicious. Ms Tagalong seemed to remember a wonderful recipe written out on a scruffy pink piece of paper which had travelled half the way across the world. Ms Tagalong's filing system never ceases to amaze, the recipe was located, so here it is and enjoy!


Spinach pie
450g spinach, washed and chopped
250g brown rice
500ml hot water
1 onion finely chopped
1 Tsp oil
1 tsp butter
2 Tsp chopped parsley
125g strong grated Cheddar cheese
2 large eggs (free range of course)

Topping
2 Tbs wholemeal breadcrumbs
1 Tbs melted butter
Cayenne pepper, nutmeg and salt to taste

1. Place butter and oil in a saucepan
2. When hot, saute the onion until tender
3. Stir in rice to coat then add the hot water
4. Simmer gently for 40mins
5. Turn into a large bowl to cool
6. Combine with cheese, eggs (lightly beaten) parsley and chopped spinach
7. Season well with masses of grated nutmeg
8. Place into a well-oiled pie dish
9. Mix breadcrumbs with melted butter and cayenne pepper and place in a medium oven for 35mins.

Roosters rock the rafters

Well here we go with more chicken stories.
Cycling home from work last week by herself, Ms Tagalong cycled quickly past the garden fence and screeched to a halt outside Ms Mova's house. Knock, knock, Ms Mova what are those other chickens doing in there?
What chickens? she said from the depths of her comfy chair. We raced together into the garden and viewed the new imports. One extremely glossy blue black proud looking beast and a small multi-coloured cheeky one with feathery feet. Oh they are beautiful, I whispered, who could have brought them?

Ms Mova sighed and Ms Mova thinks she might have said something rude. Beautiful! They're bl**** cockerels!


Oh no. What now? Yes, now Ms Tagalong could see; strutting around the pen, fighting with the hens and each other, spurs on their legs and of course the frightful crowing noise gaining in volume.

There was actually no prevarication, no hesitation, we had to catch them and dispose of them, as magnificent as they were. Ms Tagalong wasn't putting her hand up for neck wringing though and Ms Mova felt as squeamish. Coq au vin anyone? The solution was so secret we really can't tell you but be sure no chickens/roosters were killed in the making of this solution. The hens were very happy to be a feminist enclave again.

More chicken news when Ms Chicken Whisperer brought back the two sickly ones. Teapenny and Lucy legless, as they are now called, somehow became unwanted when a wandering spouse returned home. Ms Tagalong has suspicions that the naughty girls messed up the house hoping that he would stay away, to no avail! Ms Chicken Whisperer once more becomes Ms Designer and has grand plans or is it grand designs for some mosaic in the garden? Watch out for an interesting workshop.

Chickens forever

Ok Ms Tagalong promised you chickens! So what have they been doing now the weather is cooler?

Well not much really, the ground is still dust dry and they are scooping up as much moisture as they can. Ms Tagalong noticed with chagrin that the few scoops of water she threw at the Davidson plum last week have not sufficed. She thinks it might be a has-been but stranger things have happened, so not to be put off, Ms Tagalong crept under the bottlebrushes (getting trickier and trickier) to pour a compost bucket of water over the roots. The chickens of course were sure it was for their benefit and soon were beaks down, tails up around the poor expired plant.

Perusing the latest Organic Gardener I noticed that we have it confirmed that the little darlings are in great danger when faced with any day over 36degrees. Luckily they have a good shady run during the day, run being an operative word, as they weren't doing much running. In fact they were all smooshed up together huddling behind the Community Garden sign which is written on a door so thanks to our friends who have provided shade from the westerly sun.

Ms Tagalong was all for running out to the pen to check if their perch is far enough away from the roof. She didn't want to find that they had fallen off the perch literally due to stuffy nights when they are not 600mm away, but her common sense said that the perches were away from this death zone. Ms Tagalong spied the jostling that goes with the nightly going to bed. Our little laced neck chook is a bit of a bully actually. She flew straight up at one settled comfortably on the outer perch and they both fell off in a fluster of feathers and squawking. She then hopped up as quick as lightning and took prime position. When the former resident again took her place there was a bit of beak exchange and pecking until they topped and tailed with yet another and finally settled down.

Ms Chicken Whisperer and Ms Chicken Expert start planting the garlic please. Forget ratatouille and houmous it is the number one home-grown feed-crop for fowls, so continues the article. He grows more than a thousand garlic plants for the chicks! How many chickens does he feed? Ms Tagalong thinks our community garden members might miss the garlic heads.

And one more thing - nothing to do with chickens. Members of the book club spent a very pleasant evening sitting around the table, watching the bats fly in for the figs and idly discussing The Kite Runner. What a community spot!

Drought and flood

While Ms Tagalong is sitting sticking to her seat with sweat it's hard to think of productive community gardens, water (we now have none in the tanks)and plans for the autumn.

I did want to talk about yarrow. Well, I think that's what it is. It has pink flowers, fluffy leaves and is about the only thing growing in the garden besides the basil and the pumpkins which were also looking very wilted on my last foray into the garden. Talking about forays, I don't think people want to in this weather. They want to go to the beach, sit in a pool and drink long, cool drinks. Ms Tagalong is sure that most of our illustrious members don't actually need the excuse of the hot weather for a long, cool drink!

So, back to yarrow. What is it good for?


Having confirmed that Ms Tagalong's memory is correct, this drought hardy plant, (explains why it is growing in our community garden) is used as a blood stauncher. So those with nosebleeds, go no further, this is all you need.

But be careful; if you read further, It was one of the herbs dedicated to the Evil One, in earlier days, being sometimes known as Devil's Nettle, Devil's Plaything, Bad Man's Plaything, and was used for divination in spells.

If I catch Mr Ideasman or Mario out in the rain, dancing and singing swishing switches of yarrow I shall have to move in with Ms Mova - who knows what might happen being the plaything of a bad man!

Ms Tagalong has just walked into a very thankful garden after last night's deluge.
Unfortunately the taps had been left on so the first torrential downpour watered the concrete!! Thanks Ms Mova for spotting that and now hoping for more rain to replenish some very hollow receptacles.

For those of you who tune in to read only about chickens, you will not be disappointed....next week!