Happiness is...

Making ricotta again and stuffing it up again. I've now realised I'm overheating it. Instead of fluffy and light, my ricotta was a rubbery clump. Still, that didn't stop me from making it into a zucchini and mushroom lasagne. When Graeme and I sat down for dinner that evening, I said rather smugly do you know I made the ricotta for this? I know it'll be third time lucky and next time, it won't be going into a lasagne. I'm going to eat it straight from the cheesecloth (ahem one of the boys' muslins) and pair it with some honey and fruit.

Several days later and I'm still so excited about making my first batch of compost. Full of worms (and goodness knows what other creepy crawly grubs), it was thick and fudgy and reminded me of good chocolate mud cake. I really do love earthworms. It's magic what they do.

Giving hope. It's too early in my book to be thinking about Christmas, but October is the collection month for Samaritan's Purse's Operation Christmas Child. We filled one shoe box last year and this year we put together two sets of presents and clothes for two children in need somewhere in south-east Asia. There are drop-off points throughout Australia and New Zealand. Our local shoe shop was more than happy to give away some shoe boxes.

How about you? Do you make your own ricotta? Have you given much thought to Christmas yet?





Another Happiness is...

Working with nature

It doesn't take much nowadays to get me excited about the prospect of a few hours in the company of other adults (excited beforehand and then I fall asleep, huh?).

A council-run composting and worm farm workshop. Riveting, don't you think?

Well, it was. Even more riveting was the fact they were giving away free compost bins and worm farms. What a fabulous thing for a council to organise.

The local CWA hall was packed on Wednesday. Full of people who wanted to learn and go home with a freebie for their garden. The room had a beautiful energy about it. There were people – like the gentleman sitting beside me – who kept an immaculate lawn but knew nothing about composting or worm farming. Others had tried to compost in the past but ended up with a sludgy mess and gave up as a result. Surprisingly, I was one of only three people who use a compost bin and keep a worm farm.

I feel quite confident about composting now, having done Nicola Chatham's online gardening course earlier this year. Our worms do their jobs well, and even though any niggles I have about harvesting the castings will get covered in Nicola's next course*, I went along because I knew I'd learn something. I'm in my element when I can delve deeper into something that inspires me. It's why I ask lots of questions. It's the one thing people always say about me...

Anyway, aside from feeling very sad at one point when it was pointed out that over a third of everyone's bins is made up of fruit and vegetable scraps filling up our landfills, and how all this needless waste gets converted to ozone-depleting methane, it was a worthwhile morning.

Here are some notes I made for you.

• Composting is really quite easy. The reason why people give up is they add too much nitrogen-rich matter (kitchen scraps, fresh lawn clippings, manure, mushroom compost) and not enough carbon, or poor layers (newspaper, brown leaves, dried grass, hay). I follow the 2:1 ratio for layering – 2 parts carbon to 1 part nitrogen or thereabouts. I keep it in mind, but I certainly don't lose any sleep over it. As long as there's enough carbon in there, your compost won't turn smelly or wet.
• If you fill your compost bin right up (the way I do it, layering with as much variety as I can get my hands on), and you turn it, say, once every 10 days, you will get beautiful rich compost within 10 weeks. How exciting is that?
• If you just want to add your fruit and veg as you go from the kitchen, you'll still get to make 'food' for your soil; it'll just take longer. Always finish with a carbon/poor layer which will keep any flies at bay.
• As for worm farming, you don't need to go and buy one of the expensive kits. All you need is a polystyrene box or two. I might be making one of these myself to extend our little worm family. (I promise I'll try and get out more.)
• You generally start off with around 1000 worms. You can buy worms in garden centres or get some from someone with an established worm farm. Or get your little tikes to harvest worms from the garden – they don't need to be special composting worms. Ordinary earthworms will do the job just as well (according to the workshop).  
• Worm juice, which is actually their pee, is liquid gold fertiliser. Just dilute with water to a ratio of 1:10 and it'll make your garden (and your indoor plants) very happy.

Luca and I spent the next day starting to fill our third (freebie) compost bin. We cut down the last of our winter broccoli and cauliflower and tore them all up ready to go back into the next cycle.

I came home that day and looked at my worms in a slightly different light, now that I know a little more about these spectacular creatures' anatomy and how they breed.

I discovered melon is one of their favourite foods, so that day they dined on melon skins and their usual banana skins. I made up two watering cans of diluted worm juice and drizzled one lot over the tomatoes and basil, and the other can went over my leeks to perk them up after the aphids almost got them.

I love working with nature. I really do.

Do you like composting? Do you skip in the garden knowing you're turning waste into magic? Do you squeal with delight when you turn that tap on the worm farm and it all comes gushing out?

Perhaps you think I ought to get out more too?





*I'm joining Nicola Chatham for her next course on organic gardening in pots. Nicola's also covering worm farming – yippee! I'll post more details soon, but you can get her free Organic Veggie Patch Kit here in the meantime. 

Making our own compost

I want to spend every spare minute I have in the garden right now. The light is beautiful and it's not too hot. Yet.

I always get distracted from what I'm supposed to be doing. This morning was no different. I took my camera down and took a few pictures.

1. Our first snow peas are ready.

2. My little experiment with nasturtiums. We used to grow nasturtiums in England to eat, but right now I want them as a companion plant. Aphids love nasturtiums, so the plan is they'll love my cabbages and broccoli a little less. The thing is I can't get hold of nasturtium seeds through my plant man, so I went for a little walk and took some cuttings. They sat in water in the kitchen for a couple of weeks until I noticed some roots. Luca and I are after plenty of brilliant orange flowers so I stuck them in the poorest soil I could find near the brassica beds (nasturtiums don't like rich soil; you get more flowers if you hold back on the fertiliser and compost). Fingers crossed.

3. I'd actually forgotten I planted cauliflower. I got quite a surprise when I poked through some leaves and found this creamy white head.

4. A bed all ready for this season's crop of tomatoes and basil. It had sunk down a fair bit through the winter, so I followed the same no-dig garden method and topped with alternating layers of carbon (hay, cardboard) and nitrogen (mushroom compost, veggie scraps, lawn clippings).

5. Our first homegrown broccoli. Lovely but not quite the tight heads I was hoping for. Or does that not matter? And does anyone know why it's all going to flower so quickly?

6. Tomato seedlings in.

Then I got stuck into the one thing I've been looking forward to for weeks. Filling a compost bin to make soil. Number one compost bin is already full and takes the odd bucket of scraps from the kitchen but it's time to start another one.

Making compost is more than throwing in kitchen scraps at the bottom of an empty bin with the occasional bit of cardboard and grass (just because they can go in) and hoping for magic one day. We composted this way for years and abracadabra all we got was slime. With broken egg shell.

I've learnt there's a little bit of science. Much like no-dig gardening.  

I'm not exactly sure why I love filling a compost bin. Is it because I like adding a bit of this and a bit of that, put a lid on and leave the rest to nature? Is it because I find it incredibly satisfying to put household waste (newspapers, office paper, vegetable peelings, ahem urine*) to really good use? Is it the thrill of making something else other than food from scratch and saving a bit more money?

Probably all of the above.

The boys shredded paper. I filled buckets with water and a dash of molasses (blackstrap molasses does wonders for the micro-organisms, which help break everything down, and gets all the worms rushing in).

We filled the bin with different layers of carbon and nitrogen including some roadside alpaca poo and store-bought chicken manure, and finished it with a layer of molasses-soaked hay.

It'll sink down in a few days leaving us room to add our scraps.

Then abracadabra we'll have homemade compost. Very soon.

Congratulations to Libby who wins Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Companion.





* Graeme often 'waters' the garden when he gets in from work. You know, when it's dark and no one can see. He walks through the door and announces he's given the beds a good dose of nitrogen. He'll be doing the same to the compost bins as long as I remind him. Seriously, if you garden, urine is a valuable resource.

Grateful for little surprises

I woke up with a spring in my step today. The strawberries are turning red. I've got enough kale to have juice every day and I'm excited about getting one of my beds ready for tomatoes and basil.

It's Friday and Graeme's working from home. To give him a little peace and quiet, the three of us spent a very blustery morning on the sand, driving first to buy some chicken poo and poke little hands at a rabbit for sale. (Yes, Luca, I know Mummy bought a fabulous rabbit hutch for next to nothing in a garage sale, but this rabbit's not coming home with us. Not today.)

Usually, when we go out, the cat-and-dog antics come with us. But not today. There was no fighting over the biggest bucket or the spade with the better handle. Kian filled and Luca picked clusters of weeds and gave them a new home. Look at my collection, he said.

They walked along walls and jumped, and said hello to passing strangers. Sydney scavenged like she does. When it was time to come home, I prepared myself for all the fuss. There was none. Was it because Daddy was home?

Then I took delivery of some mushroom compost and chatted with the mushroom grower on my driveway. We talked about my broccoli and he told me how to give the mandarin tree a bit of love and attention. 

It wasn't just the fact I've now got everything I need to layer my no-dig garden bed, but it was how the compost had mushrooms sprouting all over it. I rushed upstairs to show the boys what came with the compost. The reaction I got was great, but they're still mushrooms.  

Oh well. Luca picked thyme for me and I made mushrooms on toast for my lunch and sat down properly with a knife and fork. (Another little surprise given I usually wolf something down as I ferry food and drink to the table and mop drinks off the floor.) 

Maybe everyone's in good form because my brother arrives on Sunday. We see parents, brothers and sisters once a year usually, but I haven't seen my brother in two years. So he's never actually met Kian. I can't wait.

I'm joining other lovely grateful people at Maxabella loves.

Did you know I'm giving away a cookery book?




Chasing the sun with old wheelbarrows

I've never forgotten the sight of the garden at JoJo's, a little (well, it was back then) mezze restaurant in Whitstable, England. Nikki and Paul inspired me on so many levels when I met them back in 2004. I'm not sure they realise how much of an impact they had on me. And still do. Every time we move house, I go in search of a JoJo's. I'm half referring to JoJo's as a restaurant and half referring to the actual people. Friends who share my values to do with food, our environment, and a tremendously inspiring sense of style and resourcefulness...

Seriously, I really do go looking for a JoJo's everywhere I go. I haven't found one yet. I realise now as I type these words that this is another factor in why I gave my blog the name I did.

Anyway, I'm not getting to the point as usual... I remember one night Graeme and I took the train from London to Whitstable to catch up with Nikki and Paul. We sat at the bar and ate beer-battered calamari*, haddock goujons and patatas bravas, then when everyone else had gone home, they shut shop and we drank wine together.

I was pickled that night. So pickled I fell off my seat on the train back to Victoria.

This is that moment.

Thems were the days before kids...

Will I ever get to the point???**

Here it is, here it is: Somewhere between the lamb cannon and the cave-aged gorgonzola that night, we wandered out to their garden. An olive tree stood right at the back. I remember talking about their plans for a wild meadow. Nikki talked about how you can buy packets of wild meadow seed that you just scatter and voila, you have a patch thick with cornflowers and poppies.

What really stuck with me, though, were the butler sinks that she had planted with herbs, charming old troughs picked up in a nearby scrap yard, and was there a bath?? Can't remember now. You're picturing a higgledepiggledy mess of other people's rubbish. And yet, it was a higgledepiggledy thing of beauty.

I don't yet have any chipped troughs or butler sinks, but a plastic baby bath is doing the job nicely.

What I have been looking for, though, is a wheelbarrow. An old wheelbarrow that has served someone well for years, but can't go on anymore. I've looked on the roadsides for months.

Then two come along in the space of two weeks. Two garage sales. Both were going to the tip the minute their owners had sold all the bric-a-brac in them. Neither could believe I would want an old wheelbarrow.

But rescue them I did.

Graeme drilled holes and Luca took a hammer to old terracotta tiles and lined the bottoms.

We're not really sure what we're doing, but we mixed manure with organic compost and some mushroom compost. Then a wet blanket of sugarcane mulch and a drenching with worm juice.

I've replanted the leeks in one (replanted because the poor buggers were fighting for space in a tiny pot).

Now they can soak up all that sun in the front garden. Sunshine that has gone to waste till now.

Which has just given me another thought. All that lawn... A wild meadow. Just think, no more mowing. Cornflowers, poppies. Do they grow over here? Anyone?

I'll be picking two winners for the Amazement giveaway this coming Friday. If you'd like to visit, make sure you enter here.





* We've eaten a lot of calamari. Around the UK, in Spain, in France, in Greece, around Australia... OK, I'm just showing off now. Point is, Nikki's is the best. I haven't had any since my visit in July 2010.

** Believe it or not, I had to change the title of this post. I'd planned on talking to you about wintry pears, Hugh FW's savoury muffins and a rhubarb crumble. I was just going to mention the wheelbarrows. But all this just poured out. I needed to say it. 

Alpaca poo and thyme in a bath

The garden has come a long way since we built the first two beds in October. And so have I.

I came across Nicola Chatham late last year. We had already built and planted our beds using the no-dig gardening method. I discovered that being in the garden, for Luca, really fills him up, and it was so easy being with him.

And although we did have some success with greens and a beautiful tomato glut, plus great fun with our worm farm, I was still very lost. And I found the whole process very frustrating, because I was thinking of gardening purely in terms of results. In fact, I'd have been quite happy for someone else to do it all, so that all I'd have to do is pick what I want for dinner.

But that's not what gardening is about. Besides, I wouldn't have anything to teach the boys. Gardening is work in progress. It's a journey. And honestly, I only learned this a matter of days ago when I got lost out there and realised just how much it has to teach me.

A big part of this transformation is down to Nicola's Abundant Veggie Patch System*.

Nicola Chatham

I love how Nicola doesn't promise self-sufficiency.

She got me with that word. Abundance. Such a great word. We all want abundance.

I learnt all about permaculture basics, and found the concept of zoning fascinating. I've since moved my greens to the right zone!

I learnt how to do a sunshine study on the house and work out the best location for a veggie patch. How to design a bed and get the dimensions right. Where to get materials and do everything on a budget.

This is what I've found wonderful about the course. There are so many lessons weaved into it.

Suddenly, I started looking out for people dumping their rubbish on the side of the road. I found several great buckets and a baby bath to use as a planter, and I picked up a compost bin and plastic pots at garage sales nearby.

One place we decided to build a bed was on a slab of concrete. We used tarp to line it, drove out into the country to collect a load of bricks (thank you Freecycle), then Luca and Graeme spent one afternoon chipping away the mortar and lined them up.

Voila!

Through the course, I learnt that you can make your own soil, and crucially for me that it was all about carbon and nitrogen.

I don't know about anybody else on the course, but I loved the whole layering of the carbon (such as newspaper, brown grass cuttings, hay) and nitrogen (such as chicken pellets/horse poo, green leaves, fresh grass cuttings). Yes, I've heard mention of nitrogen before and people say to dig in manure, but until now all the advice has been a bit wishy washy.

Anyway, I found bags of horse poo by the roadside for 50c a bag, collected newspaper, all our grass cuttings, pruned trees and bushes in our garden for the green foliage (remember, nitrogen!), and bought other bits and pieces such as hay, mushroom compost and molasses.

Once you've put all the layers in and wait for a week or so, you can start planting straight away.

Layering the garden bed

Soaking the hay in water and molasses

Meanwhile, we got a few little surprises from the beautiful mushroom compost that we bought from Kim Margin...

We also made our own compost using the same recipe. The boys got shredding indoors, then soaked it in buckets, layering it with chicken pellets, horse poo, mushroom compost, hay, greenery, and vegetable scraps from the kitchen. 

A second bed by the garage next to our chilli plants 
and blueberry bush (well, bush by name, not by nature;
it's a stick in some soil at the moment with a fancy tag),
ready for some brassicas to go in. 

Still lots of room for more plants in the 'concrete' bed. 

Strawberries went into pots on Mother's Day, and we cleared some room for them to sit in the sun all day.

The kale is loving it here. Drilled a few holes in the bath and in went 

mint, thyme and tarragon. Also in pots: 

oregano, more tarragon (I can never have enough),

Vietnamese mint (thanks Nicola!), rocket,

basil, parsley and coriander.

Spinach, chamomile and spring onions on the left. Our old bed (right) isn't being neglected. 

Luca and I have just planted broccoli, cabbage and cauli, plus peas, marigolds and wild rocket.

Even as I sit here, I can see the leeks that still need to be planted (a fiddly job that keeps getting left to another day), the carrots, lettuce and watercress. I'll wait for Luca, because it's his garden too now.

Picking up alpaca poo in the Yarramalong Valley (sorry can't resist one of Graeme's jokes here: what is Kian saying when he's straining? al-pac-a-poo.... Geddit? C'mon, not even a little laugh? I'm still giggling at that one weeks later)...

Anyway, where was I? Yes, we're doing lots of things for the garden at the moment, and I'm glad to say I haven't visited a garden centre or DIY chain once. Driving out to farms for poo (why do I like poo more than manure?), borrowing a wheelbarrow from a friend to load bricks, shredding the paper, screeching the car to a halt with the boys in the back for a big black container....

I'm writing this down so it cements it for me. Gardening is as much about the doing, as it is about the harvesting. So while I have moments where I would love to have Jamie Oliver's gardener chap from Jamie At Home carrying bunches and baskets of organic goodness into my kitchen (doesn't everyone have that dream?), I'd probably be missing out on a whole load of life lessons.

This is still the very beginning of my gardening journey, but I feel I'm on the right track now. It was the perfect course for me to get me on the path of creating abundance. (So thank you Nicola*).

Because the goal that I've set myself is to have a kitchen garden I can be proud of within a year. All I have to do is learn to enjoy the getting there. 

* Nicola has a rather lovely free newsletter called Sprout that you can sign up to on her website. That's how it all started for me funnily enough. I got to know her that way and when her course came up, I had to do it.