Another Country Diary gumboots
Another Country Diary

Links to images and other pages are in blue. These entries are broken up into weeks, or when the page gets too image heavy. 
Week of 20 to 26 October '02
Biscotti's, (that's a real name) is our local fruit and veggie shop. Along with local produce, they have, over 12 months, also built up a good line in delicatessen items. We go there when we haven't been market shopping and when we've run out of good bread or for pancetta, dips, and marinated things. 

Michael and Kiera are looking just a little bit more hassled lately because they have turned up the volume. That's not on the CD of Dean Martin relentlessly singing Italian songs, but because it's also become a coffee shop, gelato and foccacia bar. Each time I've been in it's been packed and the tables outside are crowded with happy customers so I hope it's successful for them. It's a great addition to the town and as you can see, the coffee is treated seriously. Now all they need are some good cheeses.

I've mentioned the clematis last week but it's looking so pretty that I had to take some more shots. It has climbed the old apricot tree and here draped itself along the fence. I've included a larger image here that gives you some idea of how stunning it is. (Image is 200k, 700 pixels wide. Opens in new window)

This weekend I've completed the planting of blueberries, youngberries and white currants. While I was filling the trench that I prepared for the blueberries with compost and good soil, I turned over one of the old grass sods and in the dust of my shovel was this frog. It sat stunned for a bit and I rinsed it off for its photo then returned it to a spot under the mulch. There's often a few turned over when we are digging the vegetable beds. They must help keep the insects down but other then seeing a few hopping around at night after rain, most of the year they seem to be hibernating in the soil. 

Another dead fish on the edge of the pond (these are just the ones I see). The heron obviously strikes again. It must get scared off and can't eat or carry off its catch. It doesn't come near while we're in the garden.

You can see why they're called gold fish.

The Bungendore Markets are held each month in the Memorial Hall and grounds. They used to be at the Showgrounds but that was far enough out of the way that in all the time they've been running, I never went there. It's a funny mix of junk, craft and a few food and plant sellers. I've put a few images together that I think explain its awkward charm. (Opens a new page with 6 images 350 pixels wide)
Last year I took the tough pond reeds to the tip. They don't compost down in a year and I can't feed them into the mulcher. This year with a new motor mower, I tried mowing over bunches of them and succeeded in reducing them to chaff (and shattering them into fine powder which blew away). There's now a big heap of mulch just when we need it.

The kids of the neighbours whose back yards butt up to our long block, all call out when we're gardening, or wave from the peak of their trampoline bounce. I've mentioned that it seems that it is obligatory for every home with children in Bungendore to have a trampoline. I don't know what that leaping and bouncing does to the next generation's brains but it's obviously a powerful drug as it keeps them busy for hours at a time. Not all those children are as cute as this lot however.

Fred Harden  
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