AN update on my lemon and lime largesse.
Well, I haven't made any lemonade yet. Lucy, 7, and her mate, Annie, managed to drive the neighbours bonkers one recent Sunday when they set up a stall to sell them.
Given how much they are charging for them in the shops, the 50cents each or three for $1 price went down well.
They sung and danced on the footpath, cajoling poor passing pedestrians into buying lemons and limes. I think most were happy to do so and some even gave them a tip.
Of course, lovely neighbour Margaret came back a few times to purchase. I doubt she needed them. But that is what she does. That's why we love her.
The girls closed the day with a total of something like $17.50.
They were chuffed. We agreed they could get a cheapo icecream from the Golden Arches and do what they wanted to do with the balance. In Lucy's case her share went into her iPod fund. Apparently at the age of 7 she is the only person in the world not to own one! I found it very difficult to give them away to friends and family. I am assuming it has been a bumper citrus crop year.
I squeezed plenty of them into ice cube trays and then decanted inti ziplock bags.
I made a lemon slice. My good mate Nikole turned some into lemon butter for a fundraising afternoon tea we were putting on for the Hands Across the Water charity. It tasted scrumptious on Nikole's scones. There are still a few more left and I really hate the thought of them rotting. I will have to scour my recipe books for more suggestions - lemon meringue pie, lemon delicious ........
Monday, July 30, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
Bitters, Lime and Lemon
Ventured out to the backyard the other day (don't get me wrong, my backyard is not very big. It was just a matter of braving the cold to open the backdoor once we huddled inside to warm up upon our return from Darwin).
With a glimmer of sunshine, I was delighted to see just how wonderful my two Meyer lemons and two lime trees had fared while I wasn't looking.
There were lemons and limes everywhere.
It's amazing what your garden gets up to in the chilly months when you take your eyes off it.
What a delight. I had planted the trees about eight years.
Heavily pregnant, with the birth of my third child, Lucy, imminent I was madly nesting.
"Come on," I cajoled my husband. "Let's get this backyard sorted."
There was the small matter of a great block of concrete buried underneath the garden bed. It was so big we feared there must be a body buried underneath it. We think it may have been a clothesline foundation or some such thing. But it took many hours of jackhammering for it to be removed.
We got some nice herringbone brick paving and left a garden bed about a metre wide along the back fence.
We nourished that old soil like we were feeding a sickly child. Mushroom compost, cow manure and pea straw.The plan had been to espalier the trees.
I planted them carefully, tying branches against the lines of wire we had attached to the fence. It felt mean to chop off perfectly healthy branches and force the remaining branches against the wall. But it was inspired by the likes of garden designer Paul Bangay. In front of the citrus trees I planted a row of sweetly scented gardenias. In front of them a low hedge of hidcote lavender bushes. The garden flourished. But all this time later some things have fallen by the wayside. For instance, I couldn't bear to chop my verdant lemons and limes and they started to grow a little bit crazy. The gardenias flourished for a long time but then they lost their light source when the lemons and limes went a bit wild. They started looking spindly. Some died. I re-potted a few into big tubs. Then the lavender looked leggy with big woody bits. That had to go, replaced by a hedge of rosemary. That, too, looked lovely for a while. These days. The lemons and limes rule. And I'm OK with that. I have planted a few hellebores underneath them. They are still finding their feet. But what to do with all that citrus?
With a glimmer of sunshine, I was delighted to see just how wonderful my two Meyer lemons and two lime trees had fared while I wasn't looking.
There were lemons and limes everywhere.
It's amazing what your garden gets up to in the chilly months when you take your eyes off it.
What a delight. I had planted the trees about eight years.
Heavily pregnant, with the birth of my third child, Lucy, imminent I was madly nesting.
"Come on," I cajoled my husband. "Let's get this backyard sorted."
There was the small matter of a great block of concrete buried underneath the garden bed. It was so big we feared there must be a body buried underneath it. We think it may have been a clothesline foundation or some such thing. But it took many hours of jackhammering for it to be removed.
We got some nice herringbone brick paving and left a garden bed about a metre wide along the back fence.
We nourished that old soil like we were feeding a sickly child. Mushroom compost, cow manure and pea straw.The plan had been to espalier the trees.
I planted them carefully, tying branches against the lines of wire we had attached to the fence. It felt mean to chop off perfectly healthy branches and force the remaining branches against the wall. But it was inspired by the likes of garden designer Paul Bangay. In front of the citrus trees I planted a row of sweetly scented gardenias. In front of them a low hedge of hidcote lavender bushes. The garden flourished. But all this time later some things have fallen by the wayside. For instance, I couldn't bear to chop my verdant lemons and limes and they started to grow a little bit crazy. The gardenias flourished for a long time but then they lost their light source when the lemons and limes went a bit wild. They started looking spindly. Some died. I re-potted a few into big tubs. Then the lavender looked leggy with big woody bits. That had to go, replaced by a hedge of rosemary. That, too, looked lovely for a while. These days. The lemons and limes rule. And I'm OK with that. I have planted a few hellebores underneath them. They are still finding their feet. But what to do with all that citrus?
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Fragrant Frangipani
What better way to escape Melbourne's chilly winter mornings than a trip to the top end? Yes, lovely Darwin where the weather is a beautiful high 20 degrees every day. (But they do tell me the wet season is horrendous).
So, we made our way north and lapped up the lovely weather. I also loved the tropical plants. Think frangipani, marvellous lilies and the like. Okay. I don't know all the names but it is a tropical wonderland.
At Wangi Falls, in the Litchfield National Park, the monsoonal forest is a treat. The shrill sound of bats overhead are disconcerting. I felt like I was an extra in a some thriller and something evil was about to swoop and harm me. The kids were scared stiff. It's one way to keep them quiet.
A great way to cool off is to jump into the falls.
So, we made our way north and lapped up the lovely weather. I also loved the tropical plants. Think frangipani, marvellous lilies and the like. Okay. I don't know all the names but it is a tropical wonderland.
At Wangi Falls, in the Litchfield National Park, the monsoonal forest is a treat. The shrill sound of bats overhead are disconcerting. I felt like I was an extra in a some thriller and something evil was about to swoop and harm me. The kids were scared stiff. It's one way to keep them quiet.
A great way to cool off is to jump into the falls.
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