Some Progress; Or, Plum-Be-Gone

[Last week]

[now (after a very long day digging in the garden)]

[what we are aiming for]

[1] Callistemon rugulosus (Scarlet Bottlebrush)
[2] Callistemon citrinus (Crimson Bottlebrush)
[3] Callistemon rugulosus (Scarlet Bottlebrush)
[4] Corymbia ficifolia (Red flowering gum)
[5] Callistemon viminalis (Weeping Bottlebrush)
[6] Acacia leprosa (Cinnamon wattle)
[7] Acacia leprosa (Cinnamon wattle)
[8] Grevillea (Robyn Gordon)

The stone retaining walls will have to be at least partly rebuilt. When we rebuild them we will put in foundations/supports for a brush fence. The fence is made of panels of Melaleuca uncinata branches between steel posts. The picture below gives an idea of the look (though, after a while, the fence will be obscured by all the plants) and what it will look like rising straight out of a wall as it will on the other side of the drive.

Plants for the Lower Terrace

M's domain—in the front yard—ends at the turn around. In other words, I claimed responsibility for the jungle of weeds, and the impossibly steep embankment between our drive/turn around and the road, most of which seems to be owned, but has been completely abandoned by, Vic Roads. It is a kind-of nature strip, partly triangular, about five meters in width at its widest, as the magpie flies, but about double that in terms of surface area. I gather we have responsibility to maintain it, the way everyone else has to mow their nature strip.

Most of this embankment is precipitous. The face of it is also still completely covered in agapanthus and there is also still enough blackberry on it to make it impossible to climb up, slide down or otherwise move on its surface: to weed or plant anything. Probably, either a ladder or a abseiling rig of some sort would be necessary. At the moment, I don't want to think about it.

The upper part of this area (from three to five metres above the road), which we call the "lower" or "first" terrace is the flat-ish part of our "nature strip." My intention to make it really flat and plant it out with a dense mass of flowering natives all of which have red flowers: not an easy task since red is a particularly unusual colour on native (Aussie) plants. The shrubs and trees will, I hope, look good, be a privacy screen and a sound barrier. (That is, utile dulci: useful and pleasant.)

I also want to cover, in time, the whole face of the embankment in ground cover and low (red-flowering) shrubs. But the only way I can do this is by poisoning a few small groups of weeds and planting a few shrubs at a time, waiting until they are established and then moving on, gradually completely replacing the weeds. Any wholesale weeding or poisoning—in fact, any real disturbance of the soil and the roots holding it together—and the entire embankment could wash away!

So I will start with retaining wall and planting behind it on the lower terrace, move and rebuild the second terrace and plant behind it, erect the fence and then work my way from the mouth of the drive along the embankment. By the time it is finished, the combination of native plants, brush fence and stone retaining walls, ought to look brilliant—and distinctive.

The native trees and shrubs I have in mind (at present) are a mix of the following.

Flowering gum

Corymbia ficifolia (red flowering gum: the grafted cultivar Wildfire), this has a dense foliage and abundant scarlet flowers in summer but is slow-growing and from WA [6m x 3-4m wide]. This is the one I want even though Metropolitan Tree Growers warn that "there are no mature (15+ years) populations" of these grafted trees and it "is possible that graft incompatibility … could cause trees to become unstable (at the graft union)". That is, a mature tree might break off 10cm above ground level and fall onto the Burwood Highway!

Wattle

Acacia leprosa (cinnamon wattle: the grafted cultivar Scarlet Blaze, which has masses of round red flowerheads (late winter to early spring) [5m x 3m wide]. All of these Kinglake cinnamon wattles are propagated by cuttings from a single—unusual—parent tree. The yellow-flower form is indigenous to the area.

Bottlebrush

Callistemon rugulosus [aka C. macropunctatus] (Scarlet Bottlebrush; flowers from spring to autumn. This seems to be the one with the most spectacular red flowers, but it doesn't get particularly tall; [2–4m x 2–4m wide].

Callistemon citrinus (Crimson Bottlebrush); flowers from spring to late summer; fast growing. This one flowers for longer but the new growth is pink; [3–7m x 2–5m wide]

Callistemon viminalis (Weeping Bottlebrush; produces large, brilliant red flowers spring and summer; fast growing and tall; [8m x 3m]

Grevilleas

Grevillea banksii x G. bipinnatifida: the grafted cultivar "Robyn Gordon"; spectacular deep red flowers; dense foliage; flowers year round (1–2m x 3m wide).

Other trees M. is trying to convince me to plant

Now that the terrace is almost clear and getting close to being ready to plant, I think M. is regretting her decision to allow me to plant non-indigenous natives on this spot. She has been trying to convince me to consider these:

Eucalyptus ovata (swamp gum), which is fast growing and indigenous, but has very open foliage and canopy [20–25m x 8m wide];

Eucalyptus dives (broad-leaved peppermint gum) [15–25m x 6-8m wide]

Eucalyptus radiata (narrow-leaf peppermint gum) [20–40m x 6-10m wide]. There are two narrow-leaf peppermint gums in the front yard, so they are well adapted to the site and will grow fast and well (and tall!).

With a busy three months ahead of me I'll have plenty of time to decide, and to map out a planting scheme. And M. has plenty of time to lobby for these non-red-flowering plants.

Even More Weeding (Bored yet? We are.)

About six months ago, I posted this picture of M. on the lower terrace.

Here is an update:

What should be obvious from comparing the two pix is that we have cut down the plum tree, and I have started the terracing, using red gum sleepers and red gum posts cut and salvaged from old fence posts. Also obvioius, but on the negative side, the grass has re-grown and the agapanthus has fought back in the spots where we didn't dig out the roots.

But, also gone is all the ivy from the fence (there is still a bit next to the tree), most of the blackberry (roots and all) and a lot of cherry laurel (which has been cut back well over the fence line). We also have shifted some soil (spoil actually) from the trench around the garage, ready to spread out over the terrace once the sleepers go up.

Not so obvious is that the tree limb which occupied all the space between the plum and the fence has now been completely removed (we are burning the last of it now, the bit marked in the top photo), including the splinters that were still attached to the tree (a narrow-leaf peppermint gum), and the dead wood, termite larvae and termite poop have been dug out too.

The biggest step is the start on the retaining wall, but the most obvious when you stand on the drive is the plum tree. It had to go (dying—in fact, mostly dead—and not native) to make room for the native trees and shrubs we want to plant (which I will discuss in another post). But it is amazing how exposed this spot seems now. So we are anxious to get the terrace finished and the plants in so we can rebuild the wall for terrace no.2 and get a six foot brushwood fence in place.

Ted (Dec 2010–June 2011)

Below are some recent photos of Ted aka Edward Alfred aka Sebastian, who died yesterday after being hit by a car. He will be sadly missed by us all.

Mud Begone; Or, Go Away From Our Garage*

Every time it rained—which is fairly frequently in the Dandenongs (or, "The Blue Dandenongs"(!) as it called on a local sign)—and for weeks afterward, we had mud all around and running through our car port. Like this:

[note how wet and be-mucked the slab is]

So, every time we needed to get any wood from the woodpile, or put rubbish in the bin, or get in or out of a car, we had to protect ourselves from the mud. Ted, not being so concerned about mud, simply walked it in and around of the house for us.

We have tried various methods to keep clear of the muck, pavers (large and small), bricks etc, but the ground takes forever to dry here and so the pavers and bricks eventually become covered in mud too. And then Ted started digging in the mud for us, creating pools that never dried out!

[One of Ted's pools, still full of water, two weeks after he dug it]

[from left to right: monster paver, small pavers, bricks (with a pile of extra pavers on top)]

[bricks, disappearing into the mud]

And so, we interrupted our other gardening plans to excavate a trench around the carport slab, and put in some ag-pipe. After reading up online about How to Dig Trenches, Installing a Land Drain etc, and buying 20 metres of ag-pipe, a few connectors, six bags of screenings (fine gravel) and three tonnes of scoria, we started digging. And digging. And digging.

[it is difficult to measure progress in mud-tone photos.
Trust me, this is a lot of work]

[And this is a lot more work]

Doing the above slaughtered us. It took a week to recover. I finished the job this weekend, by deepening the trench, angling it from the retaining wall towards the slab, and in a continuous gentle slope from the start (where Ted created his reflective pool) to the stone-lined drain that starts half way along the carport (see here and here). The start of the said stone-lined drain had to be lowered first, to allow enough drop for the water to drain.

[Left: angling trench; Centre: ag-pipe on a bed of, and covered in grey screenings; Right: covering said pipe and screenings in 20mm scoria]

One minor problem was that the slab was laid on bedrock, and the concrete was a hand-span wider than the slab in places, and the concrete supports for the posts almost joined the slab: this was a minor problem because when I wasn't bent double, shoveling sticky, heavy, stone-filled clay, mud and water out of the trench, I was cutting a path through concrete or bedrock with a four-pound hammer and a chisel.

Since I still can't make a first with my right hand I am not sure what price I have paid (measured in days of pain) for each meter of the trench, but it is at least one (four metres, four days today). But I suspect it will be worth it. The mud is gone, and the slab is dry. And, after two fairly heavy downpours, it is still dry, and the drain is working, carrying the water along the trench into our 70s stone drain.

[the monster paver which the wheelie-bin is on, was the base of the old incinerator]

[job done]

And now that the drainage is done and it works—and despite the monster effort M. and I put into this—I am left wondering why it wasn't done forty years ago, at the same time as the stone drain was constructed. Because it is pretty clear that for the last forty years this carport looked like the photo at top, not the one below, with all the grief that that entails.

*to the tune of "It Ain't Me Babe"

Mystery Eucalypt No More?

Now that we have flowers to examine, it appears that the towering, pale-barked eucalyptus in our front yard is actually a Eucalyptus regnans (aka Mountain Ash, Victorian Ash, Swamp Gum etc), tallest of the eucalypts (and tallest of all flowering plants), and possibly the tallest of all plants.

Mountain Ash live for at least four hundred years and grow, when young, at a rate of about one metre per year. In the 1850s, G. W. Robinson arranged with loggers in the Dandenong Ranges to notify him when they found a very tall tree: every one he measured exceeded 91 metres, the tallest being 104 metres. Since the tallest trees were felled first it is likely that some of the Mountain Ash in this area stood at over 120 metres high.

So, at about forty metres, ours is obviously only a young specimen—which is why the area of rough basal bark is so small, and why we had so much trouble identifying it (that and the fact we hadn't seen a flower or gumnut spray). And, given the growth rate, it appears that the tree was planted, or sprung up from the earth at about the time the house was built.

It is amazing to think that in another forty years our Mountain Ash will look like the beauties up the road in Sherbrooke Forest!

City of the Damned

Here are two photos of the termite city after it has had three days to dry out. What you can't see is the way in which it is gradually crumbling into corn-flake-sized pieces and dust.