Tag Archives: Abbie Jury

Outdoor classroom – rejuvenating tired perennial patches

[1] Many of us have areas of garden which look like this – tired and dull. Although this patch has been kept weed free, mulched and deadheaded, it is many years since it has been actively gardened. There is no alternative to a bit of hard digging.

tired and dull

[2] Dig out all the plants. You can see how heavily compacted the soil has become over many years. It was originally rotary hoed which made it light and fluffy but that was a long time ago.

OC-2A-13-5-2011

Placing the plants on a mat beside where you are working will reduce the mess.

OC-2-13-5-2011

[3] Dig to at least the depth of the spade and dig again, breaking up any clods of dirt. This incorporates air into the soil and encourages worm activity. Rake the area to an even surface for replanting.

OC-3-13-5-2011

[4] Different plants divide in different ways so look closely at the plants. The pulmonaria at the top of the photo will pull apart easily to three separate pieces, all with roots and growing crowns. The phlomis at the bottom of the photo could be cut into many plants but I will take this to just two strong plants, reducing each to only one or two growing points.

OC-4-13-5-2011

[5] If you have dug well, you can replant using just a trowel. Try and avoid planting in rows – staggered drifts look better. I want a quick result so am planting at about 15cm spacings. Take the oldest leaves off the little plant, leaving fresh new growth tips. Remember that the soil is fluffed up and the next rains will compact it a little, so don’t plant at too shallow a depth. Only plant the strongest and the best divisions.

OC-5-13-5-2011

[6] We give a light feed of an all purpose fertiliser – in this case our locally produced Bioboost – and then mulch. This patch was dug, divided and replanted about three weeks ago and has a mulch of wood chip from our shredder. It should be well established and look lush and vigorous in spring time.

OC-6-13-5-2011

A step by step guide by Abbie and Mark Jury first published in the Taranaki Daily News and reproduced here with permission.

Breaking the Mould of the Modern New Zealand Garden – the Dreams at Paloma

The combination of foliage and colours brings life to the Bamboo Forest

The combination of foliage and colours brings life to the Bamboo Forest

I wrote in my last column about the brave and grand visions of Bob Cherry in Australia. I recently revisited another garden which never fails to surprise me and it is considerably closer to home. Paloma is Clive and Nicki Higgie’s creation at Fordell, just on the other side of Wanganui. It, too, takes in a sweeping vision on a scale which is not common. It is not a pretty garden in the accepted sense. I can’t recall seeing any roses there. There is a distinct lack of frothing perennials. I think I am on safe ground when I say that there are no clipped buxus hedges defining the spaces. In fact, Paloma has avoided pretty much all of the modern clichés of good gardening. But it is an outstanding garden.

Beginning with a blank canvas but reasonably extensive land with interesting contours (they are farmers), Clive and Nicki started by sourcing pretty much every interesting plant they could find back a decade or three when specialist nurseries still existed. They lean to the exotic plant side from preference. So from the start, palms, cycads, large, tree-like succulents, rare trees and bamboo dominated but the plant collection has gone way beyond those families. They were certainly pushing the boundaries of what could be grown in their climate right from the start but, as plants mature, micro climates change and the tender plant material looks completely at home these days.

The Garden of Death - social history and toxic plants, not a memorial

The Garden of Death - social history and toxic plants, not a memorial

When you are building plant collections from the start, it is natural to group families of plants in the situation that best suits them. With the passage of time, those groupings mature to different themed areas but it takes advanced skills to turn those collections into a garden. The owners in this case describe the garden as having distinct zones which include the well established Palm Garden (a very good collection of palms), the Jardin Exotique (a strong Mediterrranean influence, named for Nicki’s French heritage), the remarkable Bamboo Forests and two arboreta. I am not even going to try and draw a word picture of this expansive garden. It is an ongoing project but, being in distinct zones and project-based, it does not fall into the rambling but-wait-there-is-more trap of some large gardens.

The recent Desert House project

The recent Desert House project

The large desert house is a new installation, made necessary by the gift of a huge collection of well established cacti and succulents. A traditional earth labyrinth (dug by hand) is nearing completion. Clive is having a great deal of fun building the new Garden of Death. This is not to be confused with a pet graveyard. Rather, it is a unique environment for another themed plant collection which is focussed on poisonous plants and their social histories. With a touch of whimsy, they refer to it as the GoD garden.

It is that sense of whimsy which gives Paloma its special character. Those of us who count Clive as a friend tend to be in awe of his productivity and his wide range of practical skills. This is not a garden where money is spent bringing in outside contractors and tradesmen. Clive must be the ultimate D.I.Y. man, the epitome of that New Zealand ethos. But this is not about cobbling together a walkway or putting in a bit of retaining wall. He builds. He welds. He creates. In the early days of making the garden, those creative energies were primarily directed into projects using the plants. These days the bulk of the planting is done, although the arboreta are ongoing projects. An arboretum, by the way, is a deliberate collection of different trees (not to be confused with a forest or a plantation) and, being Latin, the singular is arboretum but only the determined and the fortunate have the plural of arboreta. Garden maintenance is always necessary but it is hardly creative so I would guess that the creative instincts have found new direction in sculptural installations and building. There are neither classical repro statues nor kitset octagonal summerhouses here. Paloma is characterised by one-off originals, at times combined with strong colour, occasionally provocative, often quirky.

Wit and whimsy on arrival at Paloma

Wit and whimsy on arrival at Paloma

If you only enjoy visiting gardens that look like your own, you may find Paloma disconcerting from the moment of arrival at the simple board fence which has been transformed with whimsical writing. But if you like the challenge of being stimulated rather than soothed on a garden visit, the multiple layers and complexity of this garden environment will be a surprise. I do like a garden where you can’t take it all in on the first visit.

Paloma is not a seasonal garden in the usual manner so there is no single best time to visit. For more information, check out their website (www.paloma.co.nz) , email them (paloma@paloma.co.nz) or phone 06 342 7857.

Turning  plant collections into a garden - Paloma

Turning plant collections into a garden - Paloma

Tikorangi Notes: Friday 29 April, 2011

A somewhat over the top performance from just one Cyclamen hederafolium tuber, albeit a large and well established one

A somewhat over the top performance from just one Cyclamen hederafolium tuber, albeit a large and well established one

Latest posts: Friday April 29, 2011.
1) The voluptuous splendour of Vireya rhododendron Rio Rita in Plant Collector this week.
2) Garden tasks for the week including autumn pruning and getting garlic in early.
3) Outdoor Classroom this week looks at hard pruning large, scruffy camellia bushes.

Tikorangi Notes: Sunday, May 1, 2011
Another weather bomb last week (as we seem to call extreme weather events these days) had people drawing comparisons to the infamous Cyclone Bola of 23 years ago (I can date Bola because it coincided with the birth of our son) but it was not of that magnitude here. Still, tearing winds for two days blew over pretty well every plant in the nursery, snapped a large branch off a prunus which blocked half the road (surprising how long it took for anybody to tell us that our vegetation was a traffic hazard!), snapped a large branch from one of our old man pine trees and generally dislodged anything that was loose. A friend down the coast tells me it wrecked about 20 trees in his garden so we are guessing it was worse elsewhere. Now we are into clean up mode but calm, clear weather has returned. There is not a lot of autumn colour remaining after the winds, but the Cyclamen hederafolium continue to flower. This particular tuber is undeniably large but its production of blooms is so excessive that we have been making jokes about it being on steroids. There is no human intervention, however. It is just hellbent on outdoing every other cyclamen in the garden.

Paradise Found in New South Wales

The quixotic creations of Bob Cherry

The quixotic creations of Bob Cherry

If you ever have any doubts about the quality of service at our local information centres, try going to the tourist information office at The Rocks in Sydney and ask about gardens to visit in the area. If you wandered into our I-sites, it would be reasonable to expect them to come up with maybe six or more options which would include a mix of both private and public gardens. Not so in Sydney. The staffer resorted to Google (which I had already tried at home) and merely pulled up real estate open homes in areas with garden type names. It remains a mystery to us as to whether there are in fact no open garden options beyond the botanic gardens. If there are, we failed to find them.

We did find the Royal Botanic Gardens which are very close to the Sydney Opera House in a magic location. The parking metre fee of about $26 made me wince and the café where we had lunch was downright ordinary. The wonderfully decorative ibis who have clearly adapted to café fare were the best part of lunch. Mark was particularly impressed by the palm collection and chose to linger there, studying mature specimens of varieties he has here to put into his planned Palm Walk but in the end it was the bats which provided the most vivid memory. Many large bats, hanging about in trees. I had been under the misapprehension that bats slept during the day. Not so, at least not these Sydney bats. They merely hang around upside down, bickering, squabbling, fighting and generally making a lot of noise. While the bats are vital for pollinating certain plants in the gardens there, numbers had built up to such a high level that they were also responsible for doing a lot of damage to many trees. I think we were told the current population is estimated to be around 16000, and that was not in a large area. The gardens’ management have permission to try and reduce the population but, this being Australia with a laudable commitment to their indigenous fauna, there is to be no cull. Instead they will attempt to drive the bats out by emitting a particular frequency of sound which only the bats can hear. Lucky neighbours. The bats do not apparently fly very far so upwards of 16000 displaced bats are likely to settle nearby.

We had to drive upstate to find a garden – in this case, one created by leading Australian plantsman, Bob Cherry. The garden he and his wife, Derelie, own is called Paradise and is located in Kulnura. Readers may not know the name Bob Cherry but many will know of Paradise camellias, particularly the Paradise sasanquas which completely dominate the markets both in Australia and New Zealand. However his interests go well beyond camellias and he was working with bidens, amongst many other plants, in search of new garden varieties. What is a bidens, you may ask? Closely related to cosmos and the orange and yellow so-called cosmos that turned up in a packet of pink and white cosmos seed here are in fact bidens. There are also common weeds that are bidens. Beyond bidens, begonias, Camellia sinensis, michelias, polyanthus and many other plant varieties were undergoing the Cherry touch in the quest for better garden plants.

Camellia changii - reputed to flower throughout the better part of the year

Camellia changii - reputed to flower throughout the better part of the year

Bob has made over 40 trips to China since it opened up to the west in the early 1980s and has been responsible for introducing a wide range of new species and plants to the west. We were fascinated to see Camellia changii in flower – in early March. Apparently it flowers all year round and its March flowers were certainly eyecatching, being a true scarlet red with no pink tones at all. Camellia changii is also sometimes referred to as Camellia azalea, although I have failed to find any explanation for that name. In the wild, changii is rated as extremely endangered but it has been distributed around the world and it opens up possibilities for breeding a new race of camellias that flower outside the time when petal blight hits. Of course they don’t have petal blight in Australia. Yet. Bob told us that he point blank refuses to visit New Zealand during camellia season. He thinks it is probably only a matter of time before petal blight reaches Australia but there is no way that he wants anybody to be able to claim that it was first found in his garden or nursery.

Bob and Derelie garden on a pretty grand scale and, typical of most Australasian gardens, they do it themselves with minimal input from outside labour. We didn’t even look at Derelie’s extensive rose gardens, but there is an extraordinary range of woody trees and shrubs, including some of the best foliaged Michelia yunnanensis (syn. Magnolia laevifolia) that we have seen. But the other stand out features of this garden called Paradise were Bob’s structures. I am not sure I can convey the full scale of these. We built a pretty large brick wall here in our garden and it took 16000 bricks. Bob has so far used an estimated half a million bricks on his structures. And that does not include the extensive stonework and ironwork. He gets in a brickie whenever his budget allows but he does all the stonework himself. We are not talking brick paths and dinky little structures here. This is grand vision stuff. The pillared walkway shown in the photograph is as yet unfinished. There are now 50 of these massive brick columns and it is to be an extension of the wisteria walkway. There is something bravely compulsive about some of the constructions – a vision the creator is determined to get well underway, knowing that he may never see completion. His property is on the market and he yearns for retirement to a smaller piece of land in Tasmania. Bob Cherry is one of the gardening world’s modern quixotic gems.

Derelie has published a book on the garden which is available in New Zealand. “Two Dogs and a Garden” is a beautifully produced book, full of pretty photographs (very pink, but how could it be otherwise when camellias play a large role in their lives?) and a personal interpretation of the lives they lead in their own piece of paradise.

Finally back to Sydney, we were delighted by the crepe myrtles used as street trees and in full flower in Chinatown. The crepe myrtle or lagerstroemia is a small tree, mainly from Asia, with beautiful bark. They can look remarkably dead when they are dormant in winter. We saw some in northern Italy, completely dormant, with bark which resembled piebald ponies. They will grow here, but they rarely flower well. We are just a bit too wet and lush for them. They tend to do better in drier climates with hot summers and more seasonal variation than we can give. Being a small tree with a light structure, they make a well behaved street specimen. In flower, they look a little like trees covered in crepe paper blossoms which seemed entirely appropriate to the ambience of Chinatown.

Crepe myrtles in Sydneys Chinatown

Crepe myrtles in Sydneys Chinatown

Relearning the old ways while getting to grips with new technology

The chaenomeles - attractive and aromatic but not overly versatile when it comes to doing anything with them

The chaenomeles - attractive and aromatic but not overly versatile when it comes to doing anything with them

Feeling guilt at wasting the windfall chaenomeles

Feeling guilt at wasting the windfall chaenomeles

It is in the nature of Mark’s and my life that we receive a certain number of invitations to be guest speakers. Not that we are on the celebrity speaker circuit, I hasten to add. Nobody is offering to pay us $4000 to listen to our gems of wisdom. We might be a great deal more enthusiastic if they were. These days we decline most such invitations – it takes a great deal of time and effort to prepare a talk, quite aside from the travel time to go and deliver it. But I relented and accepted an invitation from outside the area to speak to a horticulturally inclined group this week. The reason was quite simple. I needed to learn how to put together a power point presentation and this would force the issue. Which it has done, but not without stress. A quick lesson from power point-savvy daughter at Christmas more or less equipped me to start. I put together a sequence of images on a theme of learning about summer gardens from England and the garden design debt to Moorish Spain. So far so good. We headed out to check that it all worked with a friend who regularly gives such talks. But there was a problem and it was a case of the semi sighted leading the nearly blind as we tried to solve it. We had to have another glass of wine instead and the next day, I returned to the problem of trying to fit photo images to screen size. Spending all day in front a computer screen is not the norm for me, so I tend to fluff around and multi task. There I am, laptop on power point stretching me beyond my technology skills, while starting to cook dinner and making fresh grape jelly when Mark asks: “What are you going to do with the passion fruit crop?

To be fair to Mark, his question was not unreasonable. He has cooked, skinned (I dislike cooked tomato skins) and frozen large quantities of home grown tomatoes. He has taken corn off the cob, blanched it and quick chilled it, and packed it in meal sized portions. He has been cleaning and drying beans. He consulted with me about how many tins of tomato we might buy throughout the winter and spring and how often we might eat corn. I suggested up to 70 servings of tomato (twice a week) and maybe 40 of corn. Having reached that target, he started worrying about what to do with the remainder. Meanwhile the avalanche of autumn produce continues. What to do with the many bucket loads of pears, a variety without keeping qualities and rather too blemished to appeal to others? And the grapes? Our tastes have matured to the point where we are no longer so desperate as to make homemade wine. We haven’t even started on the apples yet and the feijoas will be starting soon. The chaenomeles are falling. Fortunately the pumpkins and potatoes just need sorting and storing but there are other crops shouting for attention and basil and tarragon seem to be going to waste. There is such a lot of pressure in this self sufficiency drive.

The crop of motley looking pears

The crop of motley looking pears

Back in the late seventies, the world clock of peace ticked, apparently inexorably, towards the midnight which would signal the onset of the feared nuclear holocaust, petrol rose dramatically in price and home interest rates were up to 24% for second mortgages. Along with others, we felt the drive to simplify life and to be less dependent on outside supplies. We bottled and dried and froze food, ate largely from our own garden and shunned all tinned and pre packaged options. I will even admit to doing macramé (it was the age of macramé, an aesthetic aberration that has probably bypassed younger generations). The knotted sisal rope holders I constructed for our stereo speakers were a tour de force. I made elaborate patchwork dresses from old fabric (called vintage these days) which I smocked and embroidered and sold to a local craft shop. Mark produced handsome woodturning and I bought him a book on how to make sandals from leather and old car tyres. The sandals never eventuated but we were children of the land. In modern parlance, our carbon footprint was very low indeed. So we are not without experience in this field of partial self sufficiency even if it has taken us thirty years to return to the practices.

But my goodness, hasn’t the Christchurch earthquake been a timely lesson for us all on considering how we might cope in a similar disaster? True, all Mark’s tomatoes and corn would defrost. Depending on the freezer for food storage means one is also dependent on electricity. But we are not going to build our daily lives around a worst case scenario and it takes even more time (and indeed expense) to preserve food by bottling.

What to do with a surplus of grapes when home made wine does not appeal?

What to do with a surplus of grapes when home made wine does not appeal?

Interestingly, it is the time element that we had forgotten about. It takes a great deal of time both to grow food at home in sufficient volume to come anywhere near meeting one’s needs and then it takes even more time to prepare and store that food. If you don’t derive pleasure from doing it, the commitment is more likely to seem like an unnecessary burden. If you measure your time in dollar values, it is hugely more economical to simply hop in your car and go out to buy the food you require. But it is not the same. There is no way anyone could derive the same sense of satisfaction from unpacking supermarket bags and putting away packets and tins as one can from stowing away home grown food. Squirrel Nutkin Syndrome, I call it. The woodshed is full, the freezer is filling, and the pantry has a wide range of food options, even if it is a lifestyle choice which will not appeal to some. Mark also comments frequently that it takes a lot of land to produce a surplus of food and some of the extremely low estimates of how much area you need have him perplexed. And that is without even attempting to grow our own grains.

Should we suffer a natural disaster on a par with Christchurch, you can be sure of tomato and corn chowder here for about the first week. It may be cooked over an open fire but there should be plenty of it. However, the problem of what to do with the passion fruit harvest remains. As do the pears.