No Way José!

As regular readers will know, this blog isn't purely about food and cooking, although I write about it a lot... and as you can no doubt gather, it would be fair to say that I enjoy food AND cooking. If I were a pixie, I'd be ground staff as I'm fairly sure that there are no wings available to lift this love of food off the ground :-) Ok. I'm not that large. I'm more towards the comfortably padded (Nigella) end of the scale (without the serious boobs... and yes, I CAN say boobs. It's my blog. So there!)


Although I intend to introduce many other skills that we shouldn't be losing as generations slip by, today I'm going to tell you a bit about my garden. There are two reasons for that. The first is that it's Spring here and the garden is full of new secrets and fresh colours and the second reason - but by no means a deciding reason - is the fact that Miss Twinset and the Other One are pixie hunting in the kitchen. They've decided that Ruby is to blame for the rapidly diminishing alcohol stores and no amount of explaining that even if she was helping herself, it would be a teaspoon full at most makes any difference. They are totally convinced that somewhere in my kitchen is an extremely sloshed (and slooshy) pixie who possibly resembles a rather ripe tomato rather than a svelte fairy, due to the numerous bottles of booze that she's liberated from the store cupboard. Of course, their search is being conducted with all the precision of a blind tattoo artist and it certainly doesn't help that their "field rations" for the day consisted of a case of wine, 2 bottles of vodka, 3 limes and a bucket of ice! So... I've run away to the garden.



Now there are a few reasons why being in the garden is therapeutic... for a photographer like me, it affords me plenty of opportunity to just play and be creative! However, as I've said before, I'm not a particularly talented gardener. It would be fair to say that I could kill gravel!! I'm the only person I know who has managed to annihilate not one, but TWO cacti in the past few months. I'm not quite sure how... It's a talent I tell you! However, I really love gardening and the satisfaction of seeing something grow and thrive. Don't look shocked... it happens. Generally when I mostly let nature take its course :-) The only part I don't enjoy as much is when José - the garden boy - taunts my lack of knowledge and skills. Considering he spends all his time leaning on a large garden fork with a tooth pic hanging off of his lip, he doesn't really have the right to an opinion. After all, I've yet to see him have a go at anything useful. It's always... "you're planting that there?" or "if you think that's best" or "and you thought it would grow (snort)"... but so much as ask him to pull a weed and he comes over all "Yo no hablo Inglés" Hmph!! He would like to point out though that he is Spanish and not South American. I think he's neither, being rather freckly and with red hair, but I'll take his word for it!



The other thing about my garden is of course that the undesirables - slugs, snails, caterpillars, weeds - all seem to find it a highly desirable and seemingly safe haven! In fact, I've no sooner rid a section of garden of some of them, then a fresh colony pops up. I swear they've mastered transporter technology and if we could listen in, we'd hear them hailing ships on all frequencies and declaring my garden a habitable area with great air and rich soil deposits. It can't help that I've planted a rich assortment of snacks for the landing parties now can it... ? No. However, I'm fighting back and perhaps... if I'm lucky... I may get a few beans and tomatoes for myself :-) Now... it's not only about flowers or vegetables or fruit. It's about ALL of them in equal measure.

You see, our ancestors (no... not 1000's of years ago... maybe just 3 or 4 generations ago) grew a lot of their own food to suit their needs. Carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, whatever... Of course, they also kept chickens, geese, goats a pig or two and perhaps a cow. We've already covered the likelihood of me keeping a cow in suburbia, but to be fair... the keeping of fowl (birds, not something bad... although a large amount of chicken poo certainly IS foul) is governed by local law. Even if it weren't... I have 7 cats and I'm against cruelty to animals. The cats, not the chickens. Imagine being able to see and smell your toy / snack and not be able to reach it? Torture! Ok... it won't be much fun for the chickens either... I'm getting off track though. My latest obsession for my garden is fruit trees. I already have an orange tree, lemon tree and naartjie tree, but I've since added an apricot tree, a pear tree, a plum tree and a nectarine tree. Now. You may be thinking back to my earlier statement about being talented enough to kill gravel and wondering how I manage to keep my garden growing at all...? If you've been keeping up, you'll know that I have a theory... and it's a doozy!

I suspect that it's a green thumb that's behind it all. Yup - a green thumb! Or thumbelina. Well, that sure got José's attention... his arm slid right off the top of that large garden fork right before his jaw thudded into it! I think he even dropped his tooth pic :-) You see, I don't have enough time to really devote to planting and maintaining my garden and yet it seems to do ok... even thrive! The only explanation that makes any sense to me - even though it is totally illogical to most - is that there exists a sub-culture of garden pixies. Cousins of our dear Ruby if you will. Their sole task is to look after the gardens of enthusiastic gardeners and to reward them with flowers, trees, fruit and veg at the end of it all. Green thumbs and thumbelina's :-) They're assisted by garden gnomes, of course, who generally take guarding duty, but I think mine must sleep all day while invaders sneak past them :-)

I've never been lucky enough to see my thumbelina - and yes, I feel very sure it's a girl who runs my garden - or her band of merry henchmen. Perhaps if I had some of the "breakfast punch" that the Other One makes on a Sunday, I'd be fortunate enough to catch a glimpse... after all, she sees a LOT of stuff that isn't there. Worth a thought. However, I've spent many hours photographing my garden and often photographed her assistants as you can see here. During these hours in the garden, while I fumble my way through gardening 101, I've thought a bit about my thumbelina and I've decided that she wears a pale petal dress in a fetching lilac shade in Summer and Spring and a sturdy, furry seed pod coat in Autumn and Winter. Her name? Ah José, excellent question. I had thought to call her Rose as it is my favourite flower, but I could picture her turning her little freckled nose up at such a predictable name for a garden sprite. Instead, I decided she was more likely a Delphinium (largely because it's said to mean Big-hearted, fun). Of course, Delphinium is a rather long and stuffy name, so I'm sure she prefers to be known as Phin :-)

And now... while José scrabbles about looking for his lost tooth pic, I think I had better go and see what remains of my kitchen. I saw the Other One going in the back door with a hammer minutes ago and I can't have that!

Until next time...