Extreme weather always produces a botanical surprise packet or two. During the long drought, camellias surprised all and sundry with their ability to withstand persistent warm weather without much moisture around their roots. They may not have thrived, but most established camellias survived to tell the tale. A similar thing happened during last summer’s floods.

By January, the soil in my garden was completely sodden. Hampton is renowned for its deep, free draining soil, but the rain was so relentless over so many months that puddles had formed on the surface of the soil and, for the first time in my experience, were hanging around longer than a day or two. I expected the worst. I assumed there would be little chance that the various drought tolerant plants in my garden would survive the wet soil, and sure enough, many rotted away to a slimy mess.

Of all the plants that I expected to kick the bucket, lavender and rosemary were both at the top of the list. The theory goes that plants of a Mediterranean origin dislike an acid soil, loathe summer humidity, and absolutely abhor having wet feet. As if to prove the theory dead on target, a favourite ‘Tuscan Blue’ rosemary hedge slowly yellowed and died. I was certain the various lavender plants in my garden would do the same. But guess what? They lived. Every single one of them.

Some male gardeners think lavender is a poncey plant that should only be grown by women wearing pretty floral skirts. What rubbish! Lavender is beautiful to look at it, but in my experience it’s anything but some kind of delicate show pony. In fact, lavender has proven to be one of the toughest, most adaptable, and most reliable plants in my garden, and the fact that it survived the wettest summer for forty years only adds to its reputation.

I’ve got five different types of lavender growing in five different parts of the garden that differ markedly in their individual micro-climates. Out the front, there’s English lavender (Lavandula angustifolia) planted in a bed that is totally exposed to the elements. It’s thriving. In the cottage garden near the front door, there’s an Italian lavender (L. stoechas) planted next to a hot concrete path. Thriving. Out back, a Spanish lavender hedge (a different L. stoechas) is planted at the base of a west facing shed wall that gets loads of rain run-off. Thriving. In an east facing bed there are a couple of French lavender plants (L. dentata) growing at the base of a rock wall. Thriving.

I don’t do anything special to the plants. They receive no fertiliser or supplemental irrigation. I’ve never limed the soil where they are planted, or improved the texture. In fact the only care the plants receive is a light prune after flowering to promote another flush of flowers, plus a half yearly mulch of sugar cane to prevent weeds from taking hold. That’s it. I’m not some kind of plant magician relying on tricks to grow healthy plants, yet my lavender is doing brilliantly. If you fall for the lie that pretty plants are weak, and not worthy of a male gardener’s affection, you’re a fool.

Scientific evidence provides a clear indication that the climate in our part of the world is gradually becoming more extreme. The booms and the busts are getting more intense, and the oscillation between one extreme and the other, more violent. In response, we’re going to need to throw out the old rule book about what plants typically thrive in Toowoomba and the Downs, and replace it with a new plant palette that contains a mix of species tough enough to thrive in a wide range of conditions.

To do this we’ll need to get beyond the spoon fed mentality that plagues so much of our society, and get into the habit of closely observing our gardens, making notes (mental or otherwise) about the plants that seem to be big winners or epic losers in extreme weather events, and then share the information we collect with other gardens. Swap stories and cuttings over the back fence. Cook produce from top performing plants with family and friends. Inspire new gardeners with your passion for climate change ready plants.

Five years ago, I would have confidently predicted that camellias would struggle to survive the drought. In January I thought it was a dead-cert that my lavender would end up a victim of root rot. I was happily proven wrong on both counts. Plants never cease to amaze me, and in a future climate that’s bound to be more unpredictable than any of us has experienced, we’ll need all the surprise packets we can get our hands on.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 19th November 2011. Photo by Justin Russell, French lavender.

Don’t forget to visit our new site The Radish, edible gardening from roots to fruits!!

In recent years there has been a big rise in the number of people growing food in containers. While it’s hardly a new trend, container growing is a practice that’s gaining in popularity for a number of key reasons. More and more people are choosing to rent rather than buy a property, average land sizes are shrinking, and the population is aging. Growing food in containers is an effective way of reaping a harvest without the need for a traditional vegetable garden or orchard.

Container growing has some clear advantages over gardening at ground level. First and foremost, containers are mobile. When you move, it’s possible to simply put your containers on the back of a truck or trailer, and take them to their new home. Containers require little space. You’d be surprised how much food a container garden can produce from a paved courtyard or a balcony. And for those who find working a garden at ground level difficult, containers can be a god-send, enhancing ability rather than focussing on disability.

But it’s important to realise that container growing isn’t without some pitfalls. Pot plants require more care than those grown in soil. They typically need more water, to the point that if you forget to irrigate on a hot summer’s day, some of your plants are likely to either become badly dehydrated or die. But on the other hand, if poorly drained containers become waterlogged, plants can die from having “wet feet”.

Another easily overlooked issue is that container grown plants can be less nutritious than those grown in well managed soil. As they grow, plants draw nutrients from the soil and transfer them to their leaves, roots, or fruits, which then get passed on to us as we eat them. Healthy soil equals healthy plants, equals healthy food equals healthy people.

By contrast with well managed soil, a premium commercial potting mix is a soil-less medium that’s usually made primarily from composted pine bark and sand, with the possible addition of components such as peat, coco-fibre, slow release fertiliser, wetting agent, and water crystals. Potting mix is usually pasteurised using steam. This kills all the pathogens that might have been in the mix, but also destroys any good bacteria that help plants take up essential nutrients. As a general rule then, you’ll get more nutritional benefit from food grown in soil than food grown in potting mix.

Savvy container growers have cottoned on to this fact and make their own nutrient rich potting mix. Traditional gardeners sometimes use the loam-based John Innes formulas that are still the standard in Britain, and others modify a commercial mix with additions like home made compost and rotted manure. The idea with all of these approaches is that nutrients are made freely available to food producing plants, and subsequently, to people. To keep plants well fed in the longer term, I use organic slow release fertiliser or pelletised chook manure, and for quick growing vegies, nothing beats liquid fertiliser made from fish emulsion or worm juice.

When it comes time to contain your mix, there are dozens of different options. Choose what suits your style and personality, but if in doubt, keep it simple, and classic. There are all kinds of containers in my garden, but I have a preference for half wine barrels and those that are made from traditional unglazed, unsealed terracotta. I can’t emphasise enough how important it is to avoid wet feet – many plants are just as likely to die from too much water as they are too little. Always make sure a container has adequate drainage holes in the base, and only use a saucer for those plants that thrive in damp conditions. Pot feet are usually helpful.

Beyond that, you’re limited only by your imagination. Pretty much any vegetable can be be raised in containers, including those that are grown for their roots, and lots of fruiting plants are suitable as well. Go for dwarf trees or those grafted onto dwarfing rootstock, fruiting bushes, canes, and perennials. And of course, remember to include herbs in your container garden. Most do just as well in a pot as they do in the ground and some perform even better.

A lack of space or mobility doesn’t need to be impediments to growing your own food. If all you can manage is a pot of mixed herbs grown on a sunny window sill, that’s absolutely brilliant. Grow those herbs with pride, and cook them with love, and guess what – you’ll join the ranks of gardeners around the world who’ve discovered the incredible joys of growing their own food.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 12th November 2011. Photo by Justin Russell, potted Eureka lemon.

How many of you have this resolution stuck on your fridge at the dawn of a new year: “Grow some fruit and vegies.”? Lots of you, I hope, because of all the resolutions you could possibly make, home growing is not only one of the most do-able, it’s also one of the most exciting. There’s the promise of basket loads of delicious food for starters, which I can guarantee will be better tasting and infinitely fresher than the stuff on offer at the supermarket.

But there’s more to it than just physical pleasure. For me, home growing is one of the most deeply satisfying things I do. This is due in part to the nature of the work, whereby good stuff is produced through gratifying toil, but even more profound is the sense that you’re tapping into ancient rhythms. With lives dominated by a 24 hour news cycle rather than the cycles of night and day, full moon and new, summer and winter, the choice to take up home growing is a choice to reconnect.

Ahead of you then, new home growers, is an exhilarating, and occasionally frustrating journey. The best advice I can give is to start out brimming with enthusiasm. Let no one temper it. You’re right to be excited, and the best way to get started is to simply get stuck in and have a go. Vegetable growing isn’t as difficult as some gardeners claim, so chances are good that your initial efforts will be rewarded with admirable results. In turn, these results will spur you on to a new level of competency.

In practical terms, how should you actually make a start? Well, the very first thing you ought to do is spend some time laying out your plot. Make it as simple or elaborate as you wish. Perhaps start small and leave room for expansion, but don’t feel that you need to skimp on design just because you’re planning a vegetable patch. Make it beautiful and functional. Once the layout is in place it’s time to work on that most miraculous building block of life, the soil.

The very best thing you can do is improve existing site soil by adding plenty of compost and rotted manure, checking to make the pH is neither too acidic or too alkaline. If you’ve built raised beds and need to bring soil in, try to buy real soil rather than one of the soil-less mixes. Either way, get plenty of organic matter into your plot for good long term results.

Now that you’ve improved the soil, it’s time for plants. This is where most new home growers totally lose the plot and buy a boot load of this, that and everything else. Well, so be it. Who am I to tell you shouldn’t go a bit overboard in your first season? Kylie and I did. We grew lots of things we didn’t really eat, but the experimentation was brilliant fun and what we didn’t like using ourselves got donated to friends and rellies. I’d call that a good outcome, wouldn’t you. I repeat, let no one temper your enthusiasm.

Try growing some crops from seed. Some easy plants to start with are beans, corn, rocket, beetroot and pumpkin. Sow just beneath the surface of finely prepared soil, and keep evenly moist until seedlings appear in about seven days. When they’re up and have grown a second set of leaves, thin the seedlings out to the spacings recommended on the packet.

Now comes the trickiest part – maintenance. Some garden writers will tell you that vegetables are prone to all manner of pests and diseases. This is only half true. For a new garden’s first couple of seasons, pests will be yet to really discover your plot. In subsequent years this will change, so use the opportunity now to practise some organic control measures. Most importantly, don’t flip out every time a hole appears in a leaf. Most problems aren’t serious and can either be controlled or ignored. Keep the soil well fed and well watered. My approach to pest control is a combination of prevention, building biodiversity, treating acute problems, and practising the fine art of turning a blind eye.

Above all else, go for it! You’re about to take up one of life’s truly noble pursuits, a source of endless joy and boundless satisfaction. Tune into the seasons, don a straw hat, take up a spade and start digging. Long live the home grower!

First published in The Chronicle 16th January, 2010. Photo by Justin Russell.

There are occasions in the garden when you want to cover the largest area of ground possible with the least amount of mucking around. When I was designing gardens for a living this situation occurred a lot, since I was often asked to draw up plans for new properties built either on top of a hill, or more problematically, cut into the side of one. One job in particular was memorable. The house had been built at the bottom of the tallest “battered bank” I’ve ever seen. It would have been at least 15m in vertical height, west facing, and battered at an angle of about 30 degrees. That’s a daunting amount of bank. It’s also a lot of bare subsoil on which to grow anything other than a weed.

Even though the clients weren’t raving fans of native plants, I found it really hard to overlook some of the groundcover grevilleas. The older cultivar ‘Poorinda Royal Mantle’ was my go to plant, and as far as I’m concerned, remains the pick of the lot for difficult slopes. It might be 50 years old, but continues to set the standard in terms of drought tolerance, frost tolerance, speed of growth and reliability. It’s also exceptional value for money. A single plant can cover an area of more than five metres in diameter. Plus, it’s pretty to boot.

Another standby that made its way on to the planting plan was Grevillea ‘Bronze Rambler’. This cultivar is slightly taller growing and more layered than the carpet like ‘Royal Mantle’, but in my experience it is just as tough and proves highly attractive to small birds, who use the prickly foliage for protection. ‘Gin Gin Gem’ was a third cultivar that made the cut, thanks largely to beautiful foliage that cascades down a bank like a set of green waves.

Exotics too worked well. Juniperus conferta, or shore juniper, is an outstanding plant in many regards. I love the fact that it blends really nicely with native plants, but probably exceeds many of them in terms of toughness. It is pretty much bomb proof. Hence the reason you see shore juniper in another really tough environment – the dreaded shopping centre carpark. Here, you might find it growing alongside another old toughie, Chinese star jasmine. Featuring one of the trickiest botanical names in the book, Trachelospermum jasminoides is commonly grown as a climber, but works equally well as a ground cover or even a low, table-like hedge.

There are other situations though when you need a plant that will cover a smallish area of ground to prevent weed growth or just to act as an attractive filler between bolder, more architectural plants. This is where some of the spreading clumpers (for want of a better term) come into their own.

The Toowoomba violet, Viola odorata, is as good as anything in a semi-shaded position, filling the air with it’s sweetly scented perfume in early spring. Its native cousin Viola hederacea doesn’t have the same perfume but is also an excellent plant. I once saw a big clump growing beautifully on the Springbrook plateau and after arriving home, raced out to the nursery and bought enough plants to cover the ground beneath a young camellia hedge. It worked beautifully, doing exactly what I wanted it to do – suppress weeds but in a much more attractive way than boring old mulch.

Another ground cover plant that takes my fancy is Ajuga, commonly known as bugle weed. With sufficient moisture it will grow in everything from full shade to full sun, and it will spread quite quickly to cover a decent sized area. Carolyn Robinson has used it extensively as a ground cover at Glenrock, her magnificent garden just across the border at Tenterfield. A range of cultivars exist, including ‘Jungle Beauty’ and ‘Catlin’s Giant’, and like the violets, there’s a native species – Ajuga australis.

For something a bit different but very effective as a ground cover amongst cottage-type plants I’m a big fan of some culinary herbs. Oregano in particular is really tough and will happily scramble between larger plants without overtaking them. Thyme is also good, as is common sage, salvia officinalis. The variegated cultivars, alternatively coloured purple or yellow, make a nice contrast between flowering plants and will cope with particularly hot and dry conditions.

The next time you build a house on a hill, or buy a place with steep banks, or simply want to fill in some gaps, forget about using the strappy leaved plants that are in vogue with the modern landscaping crews. Like a two-wheel-drive vehicle on a bush track, “strappies” can only achieve so much. Go for proper groundcover plants instead. They’re absolutely made for the job.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle 30th May 2009. Photo by Allison Steiglitz.

Camellia sinensis hedges at "Emaho", Ravensbourne

Here at Thistlebrook, I’m keen to grow as much fresh food for my family as possible, alongside a selection of my favourite ornamentals. It’s amazing though how quickly you can fill up a couple of acres. For the first year or two after moving in, I spent hours scratching my head, asking myself the question “How am I going to find the space to fit in everything I’m keen to grow?”.

It’s taken a while, but I’m now confident that I’ve found the solution. Instead of making a big differentiation between ornamentals and edibles, I’d choose ornamental edibles, and grow those that aren’t so ornamental in beautiful ways. My new gardening philosophy is inspired by a quote from the Scots American conservationist John Muir, who in the 1800′s suggested that “everybody needs beauty as well as bread”.

My guess is that most of you are facing a similar dilemma. Enthusiasm for growing some backyard produce is one thing, but where to fit the plants when only limited space is available. The answer is to look to consider your boundaries, and your divisions.

By choosing appropriate plants, it’s very feasible to establish edible hedging around the perimeter of your garden that will attractively hide the fence, facilitate some privacy and produce a surprising amount of food in one fell swoop. You can also select smaller growers for internal divisions throughout the garden, edging paths and driveways for example, thereby making use of every scrap of space available.

In these situations, you want something small, suited to clipping and evergreen. It’s hard to overlook rosemary. In return for a regular haircut, it will provide year round structure and toughness, not to mention an endless supply of barbeque skewers and Jamie Oliver inspired pastry brushes. There are lots of cultivars available. ‘Tuscan Blue’ is excellent, though for cooking ‘Gorza’ is the one to choose.

Another excellent option for a low to medium height hedge is Camellia sinensis, otherwise known as the tea plant. Like its traditionally grown cousins, the sasanquas and japonicas, Camellia sinensis has beautiful lustrous leaves and smaller, but no less attractive flowers in autumn. Most varieties of tea, including green and black, can be made from the fresh young leaves of this species. Pick them regularly, and you’ll hardly even need to get out the hedging shears.

For intermediate hedges to around two metres in height, the options become much broader. In frost free areas along the escarpment, any of the edible plants in the ginger family, which includes tumeric, galangal and true ginger will work nicely along a boundary, as would a row of coffee bushes, lillypillies, or our native lemon myrtle, Backhousia citriodora. Harvest the citrus scented leaves for use in baking and Asian dishes.

In frostier zones, feijoas are an excellent choice, producing interesting flowers followed by deliciously tangy fruit that remind me of lemon sherbet. Blueberries are great, bay trees make a lovely feature either side of a gate, and then there’s one of my favourites, Punica granatum. Pomegranates are highly underrated both in terms of their productivity and quality as ornamentals, yet to me they are as beautiful as any rose bush, with the added bonus of seriously edible fruit. Try a cutting grown cultivar like ‘Wonderful’ or ‘Galusha Rosavaya’ for best results.

For taller screens or hedgerow use, the options are similarly plentiful. Olives make a tough, interesting screen that can be loosely grown or formally clipped, and the stone pine (Pinus pinea) would make a long-lived alternative to some of the other more ubiquitous conifers in vogue at the moment, especially on the southern Downs. Pine nuts will be ready to harvest after about six to eight years. For a more traditional approach try hazelnuts, hawthorn, and crab apples, many of which produce useful fruit. Then there are oranges, figs, pears, mulberries…you get the picture.

For keen gardeners, space will be tight whether you’re on a small block, or an acre. There’s just so many plants to try, you’ll fill up whatever space you have available. But with some planning and careful selection, you can have your cake, and eat it too. See the opportunities presented by dead spaces like the margins and gaps between different areas, try and think “beauty and bread”, and my tip is that you won’t go far wrong.

First published in the Toowoomba Chronicle, 25th April 2009. Photo by Justin Russell.

“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance”

- Ophelia to Laertes in William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act IV Scene 5

It’s Anzac Day this Friday. At one point in my life this would have meant nothing. I was once a surly teenager who vehemently opposed war and believed that those who were silly enough to fight in them were fools. Thankfully, time moderates harsh views. As I’ve grown older and had kids of my own, I’ve come to regret those earlier beliefs and now deeply appreciate the sacrifice made by those who served and died on my behalf.

My chest will be beating hard on the 25^th, as will the chests of Diggers across the country as they march and lay wreaths, as they play two-up and shed a tear at the sounding of the Last Post. On those chests you’ll see sprigs of rosemary pinned alongside medals of honour.

Rosmarinus officinalis is an ancient symbol of remembrance. The Greeks believed that the plant stimulated the memory and at funerals, mourners would throw sprigs of rosemary into the grave as a memorial for the dead. Its significance to Anzac Day is simple: The shrub grows wild on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Diggers recall the pungent scent as they scrambled up the hills at Anzac Cove under a hail of Turkish machine gun fire, and for some, it became a scent that haunted them upon return to Australia.

One wounded Digger repatriated to Adelaide hospital in 1915 brought some rosemary home with him from Gallipoli and planted it. The rosemary grew and cuttings were taken to create new plants for a memorial hedge.  This hedge now resides in the Waite Arboretum in South Australia, and on Anzac Day you can purchase plants propagated from the original “Gallipoli Rosemary” (see Garden Cuttings for growing notes).

It’s a good idea. To me, plants are an ideal memorial, a powerful symbol of life and hope. Unlike an impersonal stone monument, they are living organisms that grow and fruit and respond dynamically to the seasons. This was never more true than in Australia 80 years ago.

During the Great War the fledgling nation was a very different place and nearly everyone was related to, or knew a soldier that died during the conflict. As a consequence the war was personal. Avenues of Honour were eagerly embraced as a way to commemorate the men and women who died during WWI and were established all over the country. The oldest is in Ballarat, running for 22km and containing 3912 individual trees, planted in memory of a fallen soldier.

Another good example is Heroes Avenue in Roma, which was planted in 1920 with 93 Queensland Bottle Trees, Brachychiton rupestris. What few non-locals realise though is that planted behind the cenotaph in the town’s Queen’s Park is a semi-circle of nine pine trees. According to local tradition, these pines were grown from seed collected at Lone Pine on the Gallipoli Peninsula.

The original Lone Pine was the sole remnant of a group of pines cut down by Turkish soldiers to cover their trenches. The tree was obliterated during the battle. However a couple of horticulutrally-minded Diggers collected pine cones from the fallen branches and planted the seeds on their return to Australia. The pines were subsequently found to be the Turkish Pine, Pinus brutia, and the species has since been planted all over Australia in remembrance of the ANZAC’s. The solitary tree at the Lone Pine Cemetery in Gallipoli is a Stone Pine, Pinus pinea, planted in 1920.

Of the gardens I’ve visited, my favourites are those that beautifully reflect the personality and experience of their owners. Forget about exterior decorating. The best gardens are intensely personal. They are filled with significant plants and are imbued with symbols and concepts that convey deeper meaning. This is what I’m aiming for in my own garden, and I’d encourage you to do the same.

With that in mind, I reckon it would be a great idea to spend at least part of Anzac Day creating a living memorial in the backyard. It might be as simple as a rosemary hedge or as elaborate as an avenue of Turkish Pines. You might plant something specifically in memory of a relative or a friend that died while at war. Or, you might do as I do, and plant an area dedicated both to remembering, and to peace. For while we remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice, the enduring legacy of Anzac Day is one of humanity, the folly of war and the hope that one day, all conflicts will cease.

Published in The Chronicle, 19 April 2008