More tales from the garden.

Look at this idyllic verandah. This is the very first house we rented when we moved to southern Tasmania. It was in a small village on the D'Entrecasteaux Channel. An old farmhouse on six acres with cottage gardens, creek, paddocks with grazing belties, apricot orchard and a beautiful old willow tree with obligatory tyre swing. Sadly, we only had a short time at this lovely cottage, in between old and new owners. But it did give us brown thumbed city slickers the chance to cut our teeth on looking after a big garden. I had never pruned a fruit tree in my life and got to hone my skills on on a whole orchard, whilst four months pregnant, (hope they're still alive!) and the massive cottage garden beds gave us plenty of practice in weeding. And seed saving. The garden was home to a massive amount of colourful spires of Russell Lupins. And I saved the seeds in brown paper bags and took them with me when we moved.
And here they today are in my garden, planted two years ago and at last showing their magnificent towering blooms. I sowed the seeds, watered and weeded the seedlings and built ugly wire contraptions over them so the rabbits wouldn't eat the little green leaves. Now looking gorgeous, not only am I amazed that I actually grew them, they also remind me of very special times at a very special place. Isn't that something?

14 comments garden, home, me, tasmania

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