cunning cloches *with update

we've had some pretty foul weather these last few days and yesterday heavy rain, hail and frost were all expected. I'd even heard rumours of overnight snow and its raining heavily and hailing again. Great for the reservoirs and the water tanks but not such good news for all the tender seedlings that I had moved out into the vege beds in great faith this early in the season. Hail is definitely a new tomato killer, all that ice on the ground forms a lovely layer of frozen air and kills them off, just like frost. Panic! Bugger. Damn. Fowlers no.31 preserving jars to the rescue! These makeshift emergency cloches kept the seedlings toasty warm overnight and i slept through the hail and storm and sit here listening to the lovely sound of water rushing everywhere secure in the knowledge that these early outers were safe. Hoping the peas and beans survived the night.


* Im so so glad i did this. More hail came bucketing down a few hours after i posted. It was pretty decent stuff.

rain gardening

Its not generally my favourite way to do it, but time was running short, plus Im pretty stubborn and I had committed to getting it done this weekend.
Boy in bed = time to do stuff = plant artichokes; they're the funny looking short pale grey frondy things that appear quite limp . i planted a row of five behind and three in front. They should look quite striking in this spot, me thinks.
Didnt count on it being quite this wet.

I have discovered over the years that whenever i dont let self imposed limits stop me doing any kind of stuff, im always really pleasantly surprised at how i feel afterwards. Its really empowering to not let minor discomfort stand in the way of achievement. Also, being outside in the rain getting soaking wet always throws me back into childhood.

Sadly you cant see the rain still dripping from my nose nor just how much trouble i had taking a shot that wasnt all nostril or feet using a camera that inverted me and moved the image in reverse.

Im hoping they like this spot out the front of the house by the road and that not too many teenagers give them a thwack on the way past nor that they get suddenly repossessed at their peak and turn up on someone elses' table.

not enough rain

it rained yesterday, sort of...the first sign of rain here in 80 days.
We sat outside the boy and i, on the warmth of the stones, feeling the drops spitting on our arms, our faces, our heads. it evaporated almost as it hit the ground or a limb. But it was the smell, the beautiful dank, sweet earthy smell of the water on hot earth that made me smile and drew the others outside to breathe it in.

its rained again this morning, enough to wet the creek bed and drip from leaves but not enough to fill a tank or ease the pain. the next rain is months away...