Yesterday morning, whilst on the phone to my mother, council contractors were clearing the road verge free of tree limbs, as well as trimming trees too close to the power lines.

“I really should go and ask what they’re doing with the chips, shouldn’t I?” I wavered, not really feeling up to talking to complete strangers at 8.55am.

“Yes, yes you should,” my mother replied. “Hang up. Go and ask.”

Wearing Evelyn as protective armor, I walked to the corner of my paddock where the men were standing, and asked what they were doing with the woodchips.

Nathan and I had been discussing getting some pinebark for a while, to help complete the small yard, as well as mulch for my fruit trees. Free woodchips delivered would just be perfect.

Two hours later, this showed up.


“Sorry it’s not a full load, mate.” He apologised as he tipped the chips out for us.

That pile is nearly as tall as I am.

Today we spread chips out over part of the small yard, mulching the things we want to save and suffocating the rest.

I was going to do a before and after shot, but I forgot to take a before shot. Just think that the centre part was all dead, and the plants were being strangled by waist high grass.

garden 003

We still have A LOT of woodchips left. It’s kind of awesome.

Half way through spreading out the chips, we had a visitor.


We had to stop work to admire her.

Of course this means I haven’t written a single thing for NaNoWriMo today. But that’s okay. I can write tonight.

Today am am revelling in a clean fresh garden start, tomato seedlings planted, a greenhouse garden bed fixed, and woodchip mulch that I got for free.

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Invasion of the garden eating monsters.

by Veronica on March 13, 2013

in Animals, Garden

Nathan and I were playing Minecraft the other night when we heard a scream. It echoed around the entire house, leaving us listening for the sound of a baby waking up, or a terrified child.

[Related, yes, we play Minecraft together. It’s not just a game for children. Shut up.]

When no one woke up, we looked at each other and sighing, headed for the torch.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yep. It was a possum.”

I knew we had a possum, because the other night, she was dancing an irish jig on the roof above my bed at three am. Later, I prayed for her death, while wondering how wrong it was to hope for something that inconveniences me personally to, you know, DIE.

We headed outside to our one large gumtree on the property and started looking. BANG, there she was. I glared at her and she chittered at me anxiously as I shone the torch in her eyes, wishing that my torch was actually a laser so that I could get rid of the destructive fucking thing.

Not that I’m bloodthirsty or anything.

(I am.)

It’s no secret that I don’t like brushtailed possums. My wish for them to pack up their bags and move far far away from my house is well documented and loudly voiced. They’re destructive. They kill my baby trees. They break tree branches. One fucker has been stealing my chicken eggs.

I am not impressed to have yet another one living near my house.

However, if I’m really lucky, this one will also get hit by a car, at which point I’ll do a little dance of glee, before composing myself and celebrating internally.

I am such a bad person.

This is why I need a protective ring of triffids around my house. Not only will they take care of marauding possums, but I can put them to work hunting down the mice that are currently eating all my seedlings. Sure, they might kill me too, but DETAILS.

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Fruit trees. Also, leggings are not pants.

by Veronica on June 13, 2012

in Garden

Yesterday after I’d suffered through the gestational diabetes test, I took advantage of the fact that I was in town without my children or Nathan and went shopping. I figured I deserved a reward after sitting for just over an hour in pathology watching all the girls wearing leggings as pants walking in and out.

The highlight was the leggings-as-pants with a hole in the bum, showcasing hot pink underwear. I thought about forgiving her, because she was pregnant, until I remembered that hey, I was pregnant too and still managed to not forget to put on a skirt before I left the house.

So, walking very slowly, I went shopping with my mother. Something neither of us enjoy – but I was buying fruit trees and they’re much nicer to shop for than clothes, or baby fripperies.

This was the very last of our wedding money and Bunnings vouchers (the rest going on the new toilet and grey water system, obviously) and I’m rather pleased that I was able to spend it on trees. I also bought a double grafted apple tree – Cox’s Orange Pippin and Lady in the Snow – from our local nursery.

Of course, this post was meant to be of the freshly planted trees, with photos of grumpy Nathan thrown in somewhere for good measure (he doesn’t like digging holes), but the weather outside looks like this:

Despite being past lunchtime and we’re busy hiding inside, like sensible people.

Ah Winter. I can’t say I’ve missed you.


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Something big and something little

by Veronica on June 8, 2012

in Amy, Animals, Garden, Isaac

Firstly this:

This is why Isaac isn’t allowed to be quality control for the garden greens anymore. He’s not very good at it yet. (Amy missed a leaf covered in aphids, so she’s out too).


Amy was having a bad morning, before she snuggled up with our tomcat, Wolfgang.

It was at that point that I realised, our cat is nearly as long as our five year old. Also, he weighs A LOT.

On the upside, there are no rats or mice in the shed anymore.

Good cat.


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Outside in the garden, Isaac and I were hunting for frogs and spiders to photograph when I learned a few new things.

1 – My centre of gravity has changed drastically and my balance is wobbly at best.

2 – My son will push me over in order to see the frogs.

3 – Suddenly standing ankle deep in a garden bowl of cold water is not the most fun thing I could envision for my left foot.

4 – If a frog thinks it is well hidden, it won’t move while you photograph it. However, it will move very quickly if your three year old tries to touch it.

5 – Alpine strawberries (or “Wild Strawberries”) will continue to flower and fruit despite frosts and cold weather, making them perfect for Tasmania.

And finally, last but not least,

6 – If you ask your son to “just stand still and LOOK AT ME” so that you can take a photo, not only will he find the muddiest patch of ground to stand in, but he will pull this face.

What have you learned recently?

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