Passionfruit and Bandicoots
Would you believe Jacinta is saying these words, “passionfruit” and “bandicoot?” I went away to choir one night and came home to hear her to say passionfruit, a three-syllable word that I didn’t bother with because it was “too hard.” It would be like Matt to have higher verbal expectations of our almost two-year old. Next question, do you really know what a passionfruit is? I must admit I thought it was a fruit juice company invention, but it really exists and is in season right now. Passionfruit grow on vines, they are not native to Australia, perhaps to South America. They are purple, round and about the size of an orange when they are on the vine. They are best eaten not when they are plump, but after they have sat around a while and shrivel up. You then cut them open and spoon out the thick yellow pulp and edible black seeds, eat it and drink the juice inside. It is sweet and sour, thus some people just like them spread over ice cream. Jess, the deprived child she is, doesn’t get ice cream but has come to love her passionfruit. It is one of those fruits that are normal to her and bizarre to me. She eats them rapidly enjoying every bit, while I wince and make sour faces yet savoring the newness of the fruit to my palette.
Bandicoot, this is another new word in my vocabulary and one that Jacinta finds in her everyday reality. We all smile at each other each time she says this, ever so carefully, paying attention to each syllable, “bandytoot.” A bandicoot is one of the many nocturnal Aussie animals that live in our backyard. Earlier this evening I was picking Keith’s brain to give me good description of this sweet little creature and all we could come up with is this: a hug rat-like creature, perhaps weighing 2-3 pounds. Comparing anything to a rat might ruin its reputation, so believe me, bandicoots are cuter and don’t come in your house. They eat seeds, fallen fruit, and dig up plants in search of yummy roots. Lately, Keith has been taking Jacinta out at night with the “torch” to watch Billy the bandicoot feast on seed. I suppose Izzy the water dragon has stopped visiting so Billy is her new evening entertainment. It gets dark around 5pm so we now have more waking hours to spend hearing and watching the nocturnal animals. Jacinta has become a little story teller, she’ll tell it in her few words over and over, “bandytoot……seed……yeah.”
On the land this week not much human work was done. Matt worked at the bank this week, but also got home in time to do some work on “the building site.” Mainly I think he’s digging up a few long tree roots, but I must admit I’m not much help yet. Although Jess and I did spend time out in the garden it was more in awe, sitting and marveling, lying in the hammock relaxing, or checking on plant and tree progress. Michelle and Rory spent a few days with us, familiarizing me with all of the planting she had done so I know what’s coming up. We picked two enormous beastly caterpillars off of the lemon tree. Have you ever seen a caterpillar with teeth hanging out of its mouth? With kids in tow, we walked these beasts straight up to the chickens (I dropped mine a few times en route in fear of those teeth) and even the chickens ran away! The only brave hen to eat these things was Old Mother, good Old Mother. She may not lay any eggs (nor do many of the chickens housed in our chicken retirement village), but she’ll eat garden pests. Jess and I cleaned up one dead-looking garden, near the house. I mulched and fertilized the kiwi vines, mulched some potatoes, and hmmm….perhaps that’s it. I watched the garlic, the peas and many new seedlings grow and just eased back into life. The trees all need a little help. That was a bit of procrastination eating at me all week, and now it has become a goal for next week.
It’s always good to get back to your own space, and for me, the kitchen. It is especially good when your garden has food ready and waiting to be consumed.
I made lots of salad this week, dug up purple carrots and chioggia beets to eat, and stir-fried some of the Chinese greens. After a summer of failed tomato plants, autumn somehow brought me two self-sowed tomato plants that are dripping with huge green tomatoes. Although the sun is not hot enough to ripen the tomatoes, off the vine they eventually turn red. Tomatoes, finally! Soon we’ll have broccoli and peas. I think so far I’ve learned that it’s fun to try strange varieties of vegetables, but it might be better to start with the normal ones. Of course I’d grow yellow, white, and purple carrots, but do they taste that good? Not really, that is, beyond the thrill of eating a carrot out of the garden.
Coming home after a month of busyness, Jess and I were lucky enough to stay home almost all week long. I took Jess back to playgroup to meet up with all of her favorite toys (hmmm….you’d think I’d say friends) on Thursday. We loved our visits from friends, and today went to the Murphy’s for a lovely day of lazing at their home. Matt drove out to Sydney to celebrate a friend’s wedding and then on to a football game with family, so he missed out on the fun, but had his own. Justin and Melina have been on their land for about 7 years and now have fruit to eat from their trees. We squeezed ourselves an orange juice, had white guava for morning tea, and Jess had a little banana as a snack, all from their trees! They didn’t have any lettuce in the garden so I brought some over, and in return got some of their handmade soap. They grow their own cows for meat, and use every bit of the body. The lard is used to make soap, I have yet to learn how exactly they do it, not that I’m about to start raising cattle.
Melina asked me what my family and friends thought of me, in choosing this way of life. I explained what I think some of you think of this, “Well, I know they trust that I’ll put my heart into it, do my best and that it will make me happy to try. I usually accomplish things I really want to do… so I guess they just wish me the best.” Perhaps you could think that this is a waste of a university education, but I don’t get that feeling from any of you. She said, “wow, my family just thinks we’re losers.” They grow their own vegetables, their own fruit, enough garlic to sell and pay for the things they can’t grow. They raise their own chickens and ducks for meat and eggs, sheep for meat, and cattle for meat and fertilizer. They slaughter their own meat and use every bit of the animal and either enrich the soil, their bodies or make other necessities.
I guess in this age where most city dwellers depend on others to do all of this and don’t know how to do any of this (myself included), I just look at them in awe. Perhaps it is our perception of farmers that needs to change. Should we not be in awe of the very people who provide us with nourishment? Perhaps it is the mechanization of farming that took a face off of those who nourish us and allowed us to look down upon that way of life. I am not a farmer, I do not provide food for anyone but myself. I still purchase most of my food from other farmers, but I can not see their faces and it does make it hard to thank them. I remember studying Thich Nat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk and learning that one form of prayer is heightened consciousness and thankfulness for the sources of things. One suggested prayer was to sit down at breakfast and contemplate for example, your oatmeal. When I remember to do this, I first picture the face of the farmer who sowed the oats, the land in which it grew, the truck driver who took it from the farm to the packaging factory, the factory worker who packed the oats, the shop owner who sold me the oats, the farmer who grew the grapes, the sun that dried them into raisins, the cow who gave the milk for my oatmeal, the tree that grew the bark for my cinnamon, and on and on and on. For all of these people, the earth, the sun, the animals, I give thanks. I suppose the thought is that just giving thanks might change the way we treat them all.
It is getting late, perhaps I will go to bed and contemplate all the effort that went into creating my cozy bed, my warm blankets, and my pillows. Goodnight (:
Bandicoot, this is another new word in my vocabulary and one that Jacinta finds in her everyday reality. We all smile at each other each time she says this, ever so carefully, paying attention to each syllable, “bandytoot.” A bandicoot is one of the many nocturnal Aussie animals that live in our backyard. Earlier this evening I was picking Keith’s brain to give me good description of this sweet little creature and all we could come up with is this: a hug rat-like creature, perhaps weighing 2-3 pounds. Comparing anything to a rat might ruin its reputation, so believe me, bandicoots are cuter and don’t come in your house. They eat seeds, fallen fruit, and dig up plants in search of yummy roots. Lately, Keith has been taking Jacinta out at night with the “torch” to watch Billy the bandicoot feast on seed. I suppose Izzy the water dragon has stopped visiting so Billy is her new evening entertainment. It gets dark around 5pm so we now have more waking hours to spend hearing and watching the nocturnal animals. Jacinta has become a little story teller, she’ll tell it in her few words over and over, “bandytoot……seed……yeah.”
On the land this week not much human work was done. Matt worked at the bank this week, but also got home in time to do some work on “the building site.” Mainly I think he’s digging up a few long tree roots, but I must admit I’m not much help yet. Although Jess and I did spend time out in the garden it was more in awe, sitting and marveling, lying in the hammock relaxing, or checking on plant and tree progress. Michelle and Rory spent a few days with us, familiarizing me with all of the planting she had done so I know what’s coming up. We picked two enormous beastly caterpillars off of the lemon tree. Have you ever seen a caterpillar with teeth hanging out of its mouth? With kids in tow, we walked these beasts straight up to the chickens (I dropped mine a few times en route in fear of those teeth) and even the chickens ran away! The only brave hen to eat these things was Old Mother, good Old Mother. She may not lay any eggs (nor do many of the chickens housed in our chicken retirement village), but she’ll eat garden pests. Jess and I cleaned up one dead-looking garden, near the house. I mulched and fertilized the kiwi vines, mulched some potatoes, and hmmm….perhaps that’s it. I watched the garlic, the peas and many new seedlings grow and just eased back into life. The trees all need a little help. That was a bit of procrastination eating at me all week, and now it has become a goal for next week.
It’s always good to get back to your own space, and for me, the kitchen. It is especially good when your garden has food ready and waiting to be consumed.
I made lots of salad this week, dug up purple carrots and chioggia beets to eat, and stir-fried some of the Chinese greens. After a summer of failed tomato plants, autumn somehow brought me two self-sowed tomato plants that are dripping with huge green tomatoes. Although the sun is not hot enough to ripen the tomatoes, off the vine they eventually turn red. Tomatoes, finally! Soon we’ll have broccoli and peas. I think so far I’ve learned that it’s fun to try strange varieties of vegetables, but it might be better to start with the normal ones. Of course I’d grow yellow, white, and purple carrots, but do they taste that good? Not really, that is, beyond the thrill of eating a carrot out of the garden.
Coming home after a month of busyness, Jess and I were lucky enough to stay home almost all week long. I took Jess back to playgroup to meet up with all of her favorite toys (hmmm….you’d think I’d say friends) on Thursday. We loved our visits from friends, and today went to the Murphy’s for a lovely day of lazing at their home. Matt drove out to Sydney to celebrate a friend’s wedding and then on to a football game with family, so he missed out on the fun, but had his own. Justin and Melina have been on their land for about 7 years and now have fruit to eat from their trees. We squeezed ourselves an orange juice, had white guava for morning tea, and Jess had a little banana as a snack, all from their trees! They didn’t have any lettuce in the garden so I brought some over, and in return got some of their handmade soap. They grow their own cows for meat, and use every bit of the body. The lard is used to make soap, I have yet to learn how exactly they do it, not that I’m about to start raising cattle.
Melina asked me what my family and friends thought of me, in choosing this way of life. I explained what I think some of you think of this, “Well, I know they trust that I’ll put my heart into it, do my best and that it will make me happy to try. I usually accomplish things I really want to do… so I guess they just wish me the best.” Perhaps you could think that this is a waste of a university education, but I don’t get that feeling from any of you. She said, “wow, my family just thinks we’re losers.” They grow their own vegetables, their own fruit, enough garlic to sell and pay for the things they can’t grow. They raise their own chickens and ducks for meat and eggs, sheep for meat, and cattle for meat and fertilizer. They slaughter their own meat and use every bit of the animal and either enrich the soil, their bodies or make other necessities.
I guess in this age where most city dwellers depend on others to do all of this and don’t know how to do any of this (myself included), I just look at them in awe. Perhaps it is our perception of farmers that needs to change. Should we not be in awe of the very people who provide us with nourishment? Perhaps it is the mechanization of farming that took a face off of those who nourish us and allowed us to look down upon that way of life. I am not a farmer, I do not provide food for anyone but myself. I still purchase most of my food from other farmers, but I can not see their faces and it does make it hard to thank them. I remember studying Thich Nat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk and learning that one form of prayer is heightened consciousness and thankfulness for the sources of things. One suggested prayer was to sit down at breakfast and contemplate for example, your oatmeal. When I remember to do this, I first picture the face of the farmer who sowed the oats, the land in which it grew, the truck driver who took it from the farm to the packaging factory, the factory worker who packed the oats, the shop owner who sold me the oats, the farmer who grew the grapes, the sun that dried them into raisins, the cow who gave the milk for my oatmeal, the tree that grew the bark for my cinnamon, and on and on and on. For all of these people, the earth, the sun, the animals, I give thanks. I suppose the thought is that just giving thanks might change the way we treat them all.
It is getting late, perhaps I will go to bed and contemplate all the effort that went into creating my cozy bed, my warm blankets, and my pillows. Goodnight (:
posted by Matt & Shana & Jacinta & Genevieve Henry at
4:57 AM
1 Comments:
Okay...it's time for some pictures of the work site. And the map...
Love,
Boss
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