Mystery Tree Part 3

Thanks to the sharp eyes and keen horticultural knowledge of a great mate of mine it seems that the mystery plant is a Pin Oak.

Check out Wikipedia for the full lowdown.

Agapanthus, Gum Trees and Ravens

We have been weeding around the base of our gum trees to remove one of the genuine 70s features of our block: the Agapanthus. Very 70s, very noxious weed. Very everywhere. Being very well established it is going to take a lot of time to get rid of all the agapanthus, which mass together in patches that have to be broken up with an axe and then lifted out of the ground in chunks! We decided to start with the two clumps that surround the base of the two gums closest to the driveway.

[before (R) and after (L) removal of agapanthus]

It has taken us a month to do this one patch. And when I say us, I really mean M. I did some of the chopping and heaving, but it was mostly M. This first clump has filled our two 240 litre green bins three times over: so it has taken six weeks to get rid of it. Given how much remains, we will be at this for about six to nine months!

M. sifted the last of the roots from this patch of agapanthus on Saturday. I tidied up the bottom of the drive a little on Sunday, removing the edge of a few agapanthus colonies, some ivy, fallen leaves etc. So, between us, this weekend, we filled two 240 litre green bins; a 120 litre garbage bin, a wheelbarrow, three old 80 litre recycling bins; 13 garden-waste bags; four buckets and one old Sea-Mail shipping sack! We're both knackered and got sunburnt too. It is going to be a long nine months.

[The bottom of the drive, note the freshly-exposed boulders (middle right) that have been—and still are—playing host to ivy, agapanthus, blackerry etc

So, to celebrate our first victory over the agapanthus, here is a cobbled-together tall shot of the monster gum and its companions.

As it happens, an Unkindness of Ravens recently took up residence in the top of our monster gum, the tallest tree in the area. We seem to have about a flock of about forty to sixty ravens. At first we thought it was a murder of crows (the tree is tall and it is hard to see them), but once they started craw-ing at each other, the penny dropped.

They start at about 4.30AM; fortunately/unfortunately, that is about the time we get up anyway, so we don't mind the discordant dawn chorus. The video below is posted for coz J. As opportunities arise I will try to get video of the Kookaburras, Crows, Magpies, Whipbirds etc., but for now the Ravens have frightened them all away.

A Few Light Changes

Remember what I said before about "add cool seventies stuff, remove ugly naughties stuff"? Well, back in August I bought a sensational, 70s copper light fitting off eBay. I really liked it, so I bid hard and paid over $160.

At the time we were so busy negotiating with the banks, loan brokers, agents, raising money, organising inspections, pest and building reports etc ad nauseam, that I didn't have time to collect it. And once we got bank approval we were so busy, packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking etc that I still didn't have time to collect it. So, reluctantly, I had it posted to me.

Luckily, it arrived in one piece. But once it arrived, we still had so many pressing things to do, that it stayed in its box for months. Boxes actually, because the lovely woman who sold this fitting threw in a second 70s, green-glass fitting for free.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I got started on the lights. I pulled out three of the fugly light fittings from the lounge area, and put in efficient, but bland ones, which we can endure until we can get something nicer. Then I pulled out the truly mostrous fitting from the hall, replaced it with the merely ugly one from the bedroom and installed the glorious 70s copper light fitting in the bedroom.

[truly hideous hallway light fitting, removed. What is this, night-club chic?]

[only slightly less ugly bedroom fitting, now in the hall]

[The copper fitting, throwing a golden glow]

[The proper context for the copper fitting; feature wall, teak and black leather bed-head, timber window frames; warm-coloured bedspread and two cats. We're looking forward to getting rid of the curtains, the carpet and repainting the walls]

I then moved on to the toilet, took out a functional fitting from there, put it in the carport, and replaced it with this lovely 70s, green-glass tear-drop shaped fitting.

[The new toilet light]

It wasn't easy, since the dolts who removed the original 70s features of the place destroyed the plasterboard underneath it in the process. All we have to do now is find a nice green and yellow wallpaper, hang a fern in the corner, and replace the tiles …

As for the wiring … who needs junction boxes when you can just connect all the wires inside light fittings. And who really needs to colour code wires? Colour coding is obviously for pansies. It is much more fun to guess which wires are which. After all, what could go wrong? (1st guess, the light wouldn't turn on; 2nd guess, it wouldn't turn off; 3rd time lucky!)

[The bedroom: like to guess what white is? And no, it isn't Earth; meaning one of these groups of wires should have been in a junction box. But which one?]

[The wiring for the toilet light. Note multiple holes and shredded plasterwork]

Carport ideas

This is from today's paper. Somewhere we have another image of a design which is a bit like it, with massive timbers used on an external garden structure.

We need a barbecue like a hole in the head, but we both love the idea of adapting this to an open carport or garage design. And I love the decking-cum-walkway-cum-duckboards. You see them in every bush path.** Anyway, we are considering making a path across the steeply-sloping front of the house on raised duckboards, rather than excavating and landscaping to make a path. It would be less work, no planning approval would be required, there would be more room for native plants … all good.

** I remember many years ago walking the South Cape Bay walk on the Southern tip of Tassie, which alternates between duckboards over button grass plains and shaded forest paths. I decided then that I wanted a place with duckboards! Of course, I also decided then that I wanted a place large enough to need them… Anyway, see the pictures here.

Bathroom ideas

Like millions of others, we keep a clippings file. These bathroom pictures caught my eye, because of the little square, shiny tiles (very 70s, I grew up with a side-table topped in these).

What we like about this first one is only the wall of tiles, with a glass screen that is open at both ends. In this case there is a narrow, free-standing floor-to-ceiling wall obscuring the shower head from the facing wall of mirrors and the skinks. I have seen a version of this where the sink is on the free-standing wall. We couldn't do that in our weenie room, but I am sure we can think of something …

And we just love the tiles in this one. It is the right colour scheme for us, the fab green/blue/gold tiles and the massive black (slate?) tiles behind. The bath itself is butt-ugly, like the sinks above, and the OMFG light-fitting. And pointless, the bath that is. And we don't have room for one anyway. But the wall is yummy.

Mystery Tree Part 2

Not a maple... maybe an oak...

This fantastic botanical insight from http://www.sfrc.ufl.edu/4h/Shumard_oak/shumaoak.htm and yes I am looking forward to herds of white tailed deer :) but its gonna freak out the girls big time!!!!

Foggy Mornin' Coming Down

[Foggy Morning Ttriptych]

This is what it looks like from outside our bedroom window on a misty morning. (Click on the images to get larger versions.)

[Far Right]

[Right]

[Left]

[Far Left]

Mystery Tree

Can you identify this tree? It was so bare and lifeless that we thought it might be dead. Long after the plum blossomed, lost its blossoms, and sprouted leaves, this one remained steadfastly bare. But now …

[The Tree Canopy]

[The Leaves]

Success & Failure

It took just two weeks after moving in for this Euphorbia to curl up and die - FAILURE

It took just two weeks for this Sydney Rock Orchid to flower after waiting 4 years - SUCCESS



Our New 70s Tea Towels

I bought these "2 linen tea towels" "by François" off eBay for $14 in August: brand new, in their original box. But this is all the box says; it does not tell us who or what François is, where she/he/they/it were based, anything useful in fact. The towels themselves only add that they are "Colour Fast" and "Designed in Australia".

Looking online I found a few other linen tea towels and scarves signed "Francois by Neil": with eye-wateringly clichéd themes, and self-explanatory titles like "Wildlife of Australia" and "Kangaroos" or "Australian Aboriginal" and "Australian Aboriginal Weapons" etc.

So, we scored a pair of brand new vintage Australian 70s tea towels with a really bright, cheery design. And they work really well. And they look great in the kitchen too. Awesome.

Add cool seventies stuff, remove weeds

It should be "add cool seventies stuff, remove ugly naughties stuff"—but removing ugly naughties bits from this house (pukesome tiles [see third picture below] and light-fittings, curtains etc.) will be a lot more difficult and expensive than removing weeds, so we have started with the weeds.

So, what cool seventies stuff? How about this jump-suit? M. got this outstanding flower-motif orange jumpsuit from our local retro-Atomic cafe: The Soda Tree Cafe

[M. was reluctant to model her new outfit, so I suggested that she photograph me in it … a suggestion that amused her greatly]

This will be perfect for a house-warming party …

Below is a 1972 toilet set that we discovered when we moved into our last place (which was almost pure 60s, but had had a few things added in the 70s, like this).

[1972 Selfix Inc. toilet-paper roller]

We—very kindly I thought—replaced it with a brand new set when we moved, and got to bring this gem with us. And the hole it left in the toilet door really wasn't that big …

[1972? Caroma toilet brush]

The brush and stand were made in Australia by Caroma; the toilet-paper roller was made in the USA is by Selfix Inc., but if they were not designed to go together I'd eat my head.

And here are a few sadly-necessary bits of 2010 ugliness that we had to add …

[a compromise between 70s purity … and death by asphyxiation (if you are lucky)]

Another Domicidal Limb

Here are a few pix of another homicidal limb—or domicidal, since it was attempting to destroy our house. Since it landed at 4AM, the noise of branches landing on the roof woke us up, and completely freaked out the cats.

Fortunately, it actually landed right on the edge of the house, shattering all the little sticks at one end on the roof (1st picture, taken at the time), and shattering a few plants with the main branch at the other (2nd, taken in the morning). (That is my new lime tree you can see knocked over, it was a very welcome house-warming gift: thanks Leonie and Pete!)

Looking up at the tree, (3rd) you can see where the limb fell from, and you can see the limb that was dangling next to it, which was threatening to come down as well.

Since there was not a breath of breeze about when the first limb descended, we were a little worried that the slightest breeze would bring down this other—bigger—branch. So, I tossed a bit a rope over the branch with a noose around then end and pulled it down (4th) …

I then cut it up for firewood (5th). The branch was 5 meters long and fit perfectly into one of our firewood boxes!

I hope the tree was watching very closely: this is what we do when you throw a branch at us. First the noose, then dismembered and the fire! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

The Back Garden

There is going to be a big difference between our front and back gardens. For one thing, I will be master of the back garden, M. will be mistress of the front garden.

The back will be mostly vegies, herbs, fruit trees and (possibly) chooks; the front will be mostly native (and indigenous, where possible) plants.

Of course, the "front garden" is really made up of three different areas; and the back is made up of two, but that is the subject for another day.

Even though there are still a trillion things to do inside, yesterday I gathered up a 20 meter tape measure some stakes and a level and mapped out the back yard. I have worked out, more or less, how much room we have and have sketched out a rough plan for the garden. Here is the plan:

The red "X" marks the spot where the following photo was taken …

… so you can see what a fantasist I am!

The existing path will stay. At the end of the path will be a 7x3m greenhouse/glasshouse/hot-house, and tucked up in the left-hand corner (from this perspective) will be an open-air potting bench and compost bins.

Along the fence on the left-hand side of the path (again, from the perspective of the photo) will be a row of fruit trees.

On the right-hand side of the path will be five raised garden beds. The three furthest of these will be mostly annuals, in rotation; the two closest perennials and herbs.

The long rectangle in front of the fruit trees is a bench; and the spot where the "X" has been placed is on another bench, but this one will be covered one way or another, since it has to act as a privacy barrier. (Actually, the greenhouse is also a privacy barrier of sorts.)

The two fruit trees closest to the "X" will be in barrels. In a few years time the area they occupy (which is about 6m long and 1.5 to 3m wide) will be a chook house and run. I may even make it larger, and get a few more chooks, but council regulations may prevent us getting too ambitious in this direction.

It is also possible that the fruit tree closest to the potting bench may be replaced by a monster water tank, but since this is a couple of meters above roof height, and water would have to be pumped into it, I am not sure how practical this is. Still, it would be well-hidden, close to the glass house, and could gravity-feed all the fruit-trees and raised garden beds (and double as a back-up water supply in case of fire). So if we can work out a way to do this …

Below the glasshouse, on the far right-hand side of the path (just behind the spot where a fruit-tree stump still stands) we are thinking of putting a mulberry. It will have to be a well-pruned dwarf, otherwise our gutters will end up full of fruit! But, according to my permaculture book, they do well in moist spots, and this is a moist spot. In fact, I'd be hoping it would reduce the water that flows through the retaining wall into the garage every time it rains.

I will do posts on some of the individual elements of this design another time. But now it is time to get back out there!

Prints

These are the prints we have grouped in the hallway. Arranging them was fun (on the ground). Repeating that arrangement on the wall … not so much fun. But I think they look okay. All we need to do now is clean them!

Three of the prints are by Karin Ryan, a Gippsland artist. They were bought by M. and I from Tin Shed Arts Gallery in Malmsbury in 2004. We went for an Easter day trip and spent a lazy thousand dollars before lunch. (The colour one—"Blind Love"—is M's; the other two—"After the Flood" and "A Blanket of Peace Descends Upon the Earth"—are mine.)

The central print is Dürer's Melancholia, the most written about image in the history of art, and a personal favourite since I was a teenager. I bought the print from the Kupferstichkabinett [The Museum of Prints and Drawings] in Berlin in 1994.

The remaining print, the one at top left, I bought at a sale of work by art students at Tas. Uni. in 1992 or 93. I have no idea whose work it is. I wish I did. It would be nice to see what they went on to do.

In the background of the top photo is J's own—much superior—art school production, "The Water Test" of 1993; and in the background of the bottom photo is (the edge of) a wonderful Deco mirror that M. inherited.

* * * * *

We watched Martin (1977) over the weekend, a very strange vampire film by George Romero that we should have watched ages ago (and which I should be discussing on our other, sadly-neglected blog). And like so many films of this era, we spent the evening saying to each other "Check out that carpet!" "Did you see those curtains?" "We are going to have to find one of those."

In terms of decor it doesn't quite equal Kiss Me Kill Me (1973), but …

[note wood-paneled ceiling, the row of ceiling windows and the cool phone]

[note the brown shag pile carpet: excellent (lollies are a bonus)]

[note the colour of the fridge]

[note cool red wall phone (at left) and the distinctive wallpaper-over-light-switch (at right)]